animals Archives ⋆ John Harrer

A Tale of Two Mockingbirds Orville and Wilbur

February 12, 2018 by jjharrer Leave a Comment

A Tale of Two Mockingbirds

Editor’s Note on “A Tale of Two Mockingbirds Orville and Wilbur”: This was my third speech for Toastmasters. In it, I was working on some of the suggestions I had received from my second speech. Getting comfortable in front of an audience and keeping their attention were the main suggestions were the focus.

It was a fun story that actually happened to us. The challenge was cutting the story down to no more than 7 minutes. There was a lot that was left out because of the time constraints.

Mr. Toastmaster, fellow Toastmasters, and welcomed guests. Today I have for you a story of survival, perseverance and the love of a good woman.

It was June 4th, 2003. My wife, Ranae, and I had just sat down for dinner when the phone rang. Our neighbor was frantic. A baby mockingbird had fallen from its nest and our neighbor was sure it would be eaten by one of the rogue cats in our neighborhood.

Now, it should be noted I was our block’s veterinarian. If you had a problem with your car you talked to James across the street. If your lawnmower wouldn’t start, that was Charlie at the end of the block. A legal problem, that would be Cesar who worked at the Sheriff’s Dept. Me, I was animals.

I had worked as a vet tech in my youth. Bird-saving wasn’t my forte. As a matter-of-fact, though I had tried many times, I had never been successful. However, to calm my neighbor, I carried the tiny thing home. Then, once my wife, saw it, she fell in love. Now, I needed a miracle.

Of course, I didn’t reach for the “miracle” thing right away. Changing expectations would be the much easier course of action. “You know, honey,” I said, “I don’t think there is much we can do for this little fellow. He likely won’t make it 48 hours, but we’ll give it our best try.”

She looked at me with those loving eyes and said, “We’ve gotta save him.”

Looking for a Miracle

We didn’t know anything about mockingbirds. But, the one thing I had now that we never had before, turned out to be the miracle I needed – the internet. “What does Google say about how to feed mockingbirds, Babe?” Mealworms. Okay, mealworms. Where do we get those? A bait store. Huh. There’s one less than a mile away. “What do we do, chop them up?” Feed them whole? Really? Okay, I’m in.

I made the worm run and got back with a buck and a half worth of mealworms. We held one in front of the fledgling. Nothing. Could they even see? Smell? Maybe I should cut it in half. It looks so awfully big compared to such a small bird.

It took us awhile, but we finally learned if we bumped the box, the baby would think mom had landed on the edge of the nest with food. Jostling the box trigger the baby bird to open its mouth. We put one end of the worm in, the baby did the rest.

Two days later, our neighbor called to say another baby mockingbird was found. Now, we had two beaks to feed until they learned to fly. We named them Orville and Wilbur.

Worse Than Taking Care of a Baby

For the next four weeks, it was feeding a worm every two hours during the day. The boys grew slowly. We just weren’t as good as Mom and Mother Nature. To hasten the process, I developed a “training system”. I bought a small bell and rang it before feeding a worm. In no time at all, they associated the ring of the bell with meal time.

Ranae and I worked together. One of us would hold Orville and the other the bell and the worm. We stood a few feet away and rang the bell. Orville flew! Landing clumsily into my hand, he gobbled the worm. Wilbur had a little more grace and finesse and soon we were standing ten feet apart as the birds flew to the sound of the dinner bell.

A few weeks later we moved the exercise outdoors. The boys – we had no idea of their actual sex – the boys were flying well when a light gust of wind caught Orville’s wing and bent it backward. The poor guy was grounded.

Wilbur is Good-To-Go

As the days went by, Wilbur kept flying and getting stronger. The extra time in the nest had helped him advance more quickly. A friend stopped by on a beautiful, warm July Saturday afternoon and we brought Wilbur out for a training run. He was feeling good and we probably overdid it. Once he had his fill of mealworms, he took off for the tallest tree in the neighborhood. He spent his first night outside. The next morning I rang the bell. Wilbur came flying in, but wouldn’t land on my hand. I placed a worm on the sidewalk for him. He thanked me for the meal and headed north. We were now batting .500 in the saving-mockingbirds department.

After a few weeks of R & R, Orville got his wings back and we continued training. Late in August, after a particularly large feast of mealworms, Orville headed for the top of our mulberry tree.

Orville Continues to Visit

The next morning at sun up, I rang the bell with a meal worm in the palm of my hand. I wasn’t sure which direction he came from, but I could hear him crash into the Mulberry tree above me. I held still. He squeaked. I rang the bell. Whoosh! Orville landed on my fingertips, snagged his favorite treat, tossed me a wink and a nod, then flew off.

For the next month, I would sit in my lawn chair at sunrise and sunset, worm in one hand, a bell in the other. (The sunset session also often included a cocktail.) Almost without fail Orville would land and snack. We had imaginary conversations of his adventures – he was getting along fine. He said he ran into Wilbur once in awhile, but that Ole Wil was too proud to take handouts. Orville claimed we had the best worms east of Union Ave.

The Final Visit

As time went on, the days got shorter. Our cats discovered I was chumming a feathery meal for them twice a day and surely wanted to take advantage. Orville noticed the cats, too.

It was early October and the weather was turning cool. I hadn’t seen Orville in a few days. It was taking him longer and longer to fly in. Did mockingbirds fly south for the winter, I wondered? The light was failing, the sun was setting. I continued to ring my bell and I had plenty of worms left. As I gathered my worms and bell to head inside, I thought I heard a familiar rustle in the tree above me. One quick ring. One last visit. Orville said he’d found a girl and needed to settle down. I told him I understood. He grabbed a worm one last time, took an extra lap over our house, and headed for the tallest tree. Both Orville and Wilbur had learned to fly!

Indy Our New Dog From The Shelter

February 1, 2018 by jjharrer Leave a Comment

Indy Our New Dog

Rusty

It was time for a New Dog. Rusty, our Queensland Heeler, passed away last December and it was time to get another dog. We like keeping two dogs at the house. They keep each other company. The contrast of personality is fun to observe. Maybe, I should say, we NEED two dogs.

I’m convinced that in the natural order of things, dogs’ lifespans were set to be between a decade and a generation. We measure the periods in our life by the dogs we’ve had. There was “Love” as a toddler, then one of my favorites, “Spot” as an adolescent. What a fun dog he was. He was the family dog, but I think I may have spent the most time with him. We went a lot of places and had many adventures. Spot would pull me around on my bicycle and my skateboard. Oh, how he seemed to love being a sled dog! As an adult, there were Smokey and Boomer, Casey and Murphy, and Max and Rusty. All pretty darn good dogs too.

Each one lasted a decade more or less. One of the gifts dogs offer is to help us get accustomed to losses of a higher order in our lives – if that’s possible. I’ve often wondered why, in the span of my lifetime, 60 years, the lifespan of humans has increased substantially. The life of dogs is about the same as it was when I worked for a veterinarian way back in high school. Like I said, it’s the natural order of things.

Max helping Rusty

Rusty Helping Buster

Moving On

Rusty was 13 years old. I knew she was not long for this world. The decision to adopt a shelter dog was easy. My days of raising a purebred are behind me. Ranae, my wife, wanted to get a shelter dog, too. She didn’t like walking through the kennels and asked me to pick a good candidate.

We wanted another male dog. Rusty was our first female and, while she was an excellent dog, we felt boys were easier to deal with. Just a feeling.

We didn’t want a huge dog. Buster is about 75 lbs and big. As we age together, it could be a challenge to handle him. We couldn’t choose a small dog either. Buster would think we brought him a chew toy. No, New Dog would have to be in that mid-range of 30 -45 lbs.

Buster is a short-haired dog. We got Buster after Max, our Australian Shepherd. Max took constant brushing to keep him looking good. And, a handsome dog like Max deserves to look good. But, he shed and that’s a bit messy. So, short or medium hair was on the list.

Age Consideration

If we’re careful about how we do it, we can have one dog in his later years, and a younger one. The younger one keeps the older one more active and, who knows, maybe the older teaches the younger a little about life and how to behave. We did not want the trials and tribulations of a puppy. The potty training stage and the chewing no longer have the appeal they once did. In my 50 years of owning dogs, this was only the second time I have not started with a puppy. The first was Rusty. Side note: Rusty grew up next door to us and I got to watch her grow. When the family moved, they couldn’t take her.

The Most Important Characteristic

Buster

Our New Dog would need a good attitude. The biggest challenge was to find a dog with the right temperament. Buster is a handful. He is protective. He is relentless. He is dominant. And yet he can be fearful. He is the most complicated dog I’ve ever owned. Yes, and he’s unpredictable at times.

While volunteering at the shelter for 16 months, I got to observe many dogs. Walking through the kennels, some dogs barked, some sniffed, some shied away. Often, I would hang around the kennels watching and observing different dogs. Would they bark? Wag their tail? Lick? Could I tell their personality through stainless steel bars?

The Search

The New Dog search began at the County Shelter. Like I said, I volunteered there for 16 months. Sometimes there are a lot of dogs, but none fit the criteria. That’s just the way it is.

Next stop SPCA. It was only a few miles from the County Shelter. Their dogs are $100 compared to the $40 for the County Shelter dogs. With neutering, vaccinations, microchip, and free vet check this is still a good deal. I had to be somewhere soon but walked around looking for potential candidates. I found a couple and talked the gal behind the counter. Have you ever just gotten a bad vibe off of someone? I’ve owned dogs for 35 years, I worked for a vet. I know my way around. When I asked about adoption, I thought that would shine through. Instead, I felt she was talking to me like I was in the 10th grade and I’d never owned a dog before. I told her I would be back for a meet-and-greet with a few of the dogs.

The City Shelter was next. Their dogs were $20 and had the same amenities. I found a Queensland Heeler and set up a meet-and-greet. He was about 3 years old. The meet-and-greet is tough. The dog has been in its kennel for who knows how long. Now, it’s out in the exercise yard where every other dog that had been there had either shit or peed. Asking him to focus on a human is a tough task.

Meet-And-Greet

The meet-and-greet is crucial. You have a limited amount of time to discover this dog’s personality. A kennel worker is with you at all times. How do you make the best use of this time? This is the procedure I practiced when I volunteered at the County Shelter:

We had to walk the dogs from the kennel to the exercise yard. I did this with a nylon lead and watched how the dog followed me. It often was a tough walk. These dogs had been locked in kennels all day and this was a taste of freedom. Once in the yard, I turned them loose to explore.

Our shelter preferred we limit the exercise to 20 minutes, so the first five belonged to the dogs. The next 10 were mine. I’d reconnect the lead and we worked on “heel” and “sit”. Very often the whole dog’s demeanor would change during these 10 minutes. A good percentage of dogs seemed to appreciate the exercises. Their heeling improved. Then, the last five minutes were theirs to do however they wished. After the heel-ing exercise, most wanted to be closer to me.

The Queensland at the City Shelter never showed any interest in heel-ing or me after 15 minutes. Some dogs are not a match. It’s not the dog’s fault. It’s not mine. It’s often difficult to move on, but I do.

Finding the One

I return to the County Shelter a week later. Finally, I think we have a good candidate. He’s a young, perhaps a year old, Queensland/Shepherd mix. He’s happy. He’s somewhat submissive, yet he has a quiet confidence in his kennel.

We meet-and-greet with Ranae and things look good. He loves people and really comes out of his shell quickly. We ask the shelter to hold him until the following day so that we can prepare Buster. They agree.

The Meeting

The following morning it’s raining. We bundle up and take Buster for a 3-mile walk. Luckily, the rain let up to a drizzle and we didn’t get too soaked. We’ve taken a little of the “edge” off Buster too.

Next, we took Buster to a dog park near the shelter. The rain was light and intermittent. Ranae stayed with Buster while I headed to the shelter. I returned 20 minutes later with the new dog. The new dog was happy to be free of his kennel. Buster was getting a little bored having no one to play with at the empty, rain-soaked dog park. They played and romped around for another 30 minutes. The New Dog, or “N.D.”, (later converted to Indy) got put in his place a couple of times. He was undeterred and Buster wasn’t too rough on him.

They both went in the truck. There was some jockeying for space in the cramped back quarters. They were a mess from running in the rain, wet grass, and mud. We got home without incident and now the two dogs are getting along fine.

Indy

Who Let the Dogs Out – Pet Overpopulation

January 25, 2018 by jjharrer Leave a Comment

Toastmaster Speech

Editor’s Note:

My last speech at the Pathways Level I module is about dogs. The goal was to prepare and deliver a well-researched speech, quoting sources and including statistics. This speech was delivered 1/24/2018 at Toastmasters Downtown Bakersfield.

Who Let the Dogs Out – Pet Overpopulation

Americans love their dogs! From Lassie to Rin Tin Tin to Spuds McKenzie, the dog is man’s best friend. There are an estimated 78 million dogs owned in the US according to the American Pet Products Assn. Nearly 48% of all US households own a dog. But, let me ask you this, are we their best friend?

One of my goals in retirement is donating time to worthy causes. When, in late 2015, I heard Nick Cullen, the Director Kern County of Animal Services, declare he believed the County Shelters could reach No-Kill status by 2020, I decided to pitch in. Kern County Animal Shelter has an active roster of 40-50 volunteers who typically donate 10-30 hours a month performing basic animal care, helping with clinics, providing creature comforts, and assisting in grooming and socialization. As a volunteer, one generally starts at the bottom. With nearly 300 animals being housed at the Fruitvale Shelter, the bottom was washing dishes.

Making a Change

After a couple of months of dishpan hands, I moved to socialization. One afternoon the Volunteer Coordinator asked me to meet the Director.

“Return to Owner”, or RTO is the measure for how many dogs picked up as strays, were returned to their rightful owner. The County wanted to increase their dismal RTO and had learned of my experience working in social media. Nick Cullen challenged me to establish a program.

In March 2016, my team of three volunteers launched the Kern Pet Detective. Our goal was to post to our Pet Detective Facebook Page, high-quality photos of the dogs that were classified as strays and brought to our shelter. We felt with the proper use of social media, we could get word of lost dogs out to the public reaching as many as 20,000 people in the Kern County Area. Anyone looking for their dog on social media could do a quick scan of our page and see if their dog was at the Fruitvale Shelter.

The Latest Research

In researching this project I learned some very sobering facts. While no national organization is responsible for tabulating statistics, the American Pet Products Assn. estimates that 3.3 million dogs enter animal shelters every year. About 1.6 million are adopted by new owners. Nearly 670,000 dogs, or 20%, are euthanized. Nationally, only 620,000 are returned to their owners. Think about that for a moment. Of the total number of dogs brought into shelters, more are euthanized than returned to their owners.

Now, it can be said that some people will just dump unwanted dogs and others through carelessness will let them run away. Some may no longer be able to afford them and simply turn them loose. But any way you look at it, far too many dogs have owners who aren’t looking to get them back.

Making a Difference

In our first year, the Pet Detective Program did make a difference. According to the Annual Report from Kern County Animal services the RTO in 2015 – the year before Pet Detective was established – was 6.9%. In 2016, after only 9 months in operation, the RTO increased to 8.6%.

More importantly, there was a side effect no one had anticipated. The Pet Detective Page had grown to 2,500 “likes” and had a weekly reach of 20,000 page views -substantial numbers for a grassroots, community-oriented, volunteer-created social media page. Members of the community were exposed to photos of dogs they would not normally see. They were telling their friends, neighbors, and relatives about them. The adoption rate for the County Shelter increased from 26% in 2015 to over 36% in 2016. Not all of the increase can be attributed to the Pet Detectives, but we did do our part.

Once a dog is brought into the Kern County Shelter as a stray, the County is obligated to hold it for 5 days. After that, it is moved to the adoption wing in the hopes a member of the public will adopt.

Adoption Is a Bargain

Adoption is a good deal for the public. Three years ago I purchased a dog from a breeder for $200. Three visits to the veterinarian for shots, worming and a microchip set me back $150. Then, to have him neutered cost another $150. To top it off, I bought his county license for $60. Add that all up and it equals $560.

When a member of the public adopts a County Shelter dog, they are neutered, have been chipped, vaccinated and licensed. The cost? Usually less than $50. Last week, our family adopted a year-old Queensland mix at a cost of $40.

Libraries and animal services are the forgotten orphans of municipal governments. They are the first to suffer budget cuts when times get tough. When libraries get cut, we get fewer books. When animal services get cut, there are more animals on the streets. I was surprised how much County Animal Services relies on the community of volunteers, rescue groups, and foster families to reach their goal.

Our local animal welfare groups are doing a good job. There’s still a lot more to do. Education about spay and neuter and the responsibility of pet ownership will continue to be the biggest challenges. With the help of a lot of dedicated people, who knows, maybe we can convince a nation of dogs that we deserve to be their best friend.