URGENT: KITTENS FOR FOSTER CARE

The first time I heard of the Philippine Animal Welfare Society (PAWS) was December of last year, when they started campaigning against a Dolphin Show beside SM Mall of Asia. I saw a flyer about their campaign in the community board in our village's Mini-stop branch. I took down their contact numbers and visited their website. I told my friends about the campaign who willfully spread the word (good job guys!) joined the picket rally and printed out flyers to be handed out to the present and would-be dolphin show customers.

My life took a sharp turn from there, and for the better I tell you.

Dolphins are among my favorite marine animals (besides their nemesis, the sharks). Being an avid fan of dolphins since elementary, I've kept myself updated with news on dolphin abuse and slaughter all over the world, special thanks to the ever-so-convenient internet.

Months later, after struggling to finally finish my thesis, I saw Sherwin's, blog while browsing through the web:

Me Find Home, a place where he writes about the dogs and cats up for adoption in the PAWS Rehabilitation Center.

The PAWS rehabilitation Center is in dire need of volunteers willing to foster care kittens round the clock in order to increase their probability of survival. It's a heart-breaking scene, that day I saw the thirty-plus homeless kittens thriving with so much life yet are deprived of the wonders of the world because they are confined inside the animal shelter. One of the residents also told me, that the newborn kitten I found loitering in the middle of the street susceptible to being road-killed, the one I took to PARC ignoring that my pastel pink top was already full of kitten poop, didn't survive and crossed the Rainbow Bridge a few days ago.

My heart sank when I heard the news. Before I arrived in PARC the third day I visited Mario, on my way to U.P. Diliman, I saw a kitten's remains in the middle of the road. It was horrible. Sometimes I wonder how some cat owners manage to go through the day living with the risk that their beloved cats may never come home again. I've never been a cat owner, mostly because my family dislikes cats (which I don't understand), so I probably wouldn't understand this liberal relationship.

The story of this group of kittens, urgently in need foster care, is another tragic story. Their lives hang by a thread, and it will only be a matter of time before the final judgment would take away the only hope given by the animal shelter residents.

They've got so much ahead of them, so many things to learn and do. Please don't let their little spark go out before they could truly embrace the world. They deserve to experience what true happiness is in the hands of a loving human they could call their own.

If you wish to volunteer and care for these kitties, please contact PARC at 475-1688 and look for Ms. Tin . :) You can also visit the PAWS website at http://www.paws.org.ph/ for more information. Your kindness will be greatly appreciated.



Susan is one of the recently adopted and lucky cats in the shelter. There are more cats and kittens in need of loving homes. Visit Me Find Home for more information.

Animal Doctor: A Dream Not Meant For Me

During my third visit to the PAWS rehabilitation Center, I presented my "Hamster Journal" to the shelter manager. The Hamster Journal is divided into two parts. The first part consists of my pet hamsters' general diet, basic information on hamster care, and other facts I've researched about these rodents. The second part is mainly a daily record of their health, activities, behavior, and home designs. I have a separate one for my dog, Doggy Black --- but I forgot to bring that one.

After browsing through my logbook, the shelter manager asked me if I planned to take up veterinary medicine.

"It's not too late," he remarked, flipping a page and looking at the measurements (cm) I made on Scratch and Kururu when they were still alive.

"Maybe," was my answer.

The question hit me hard. I really do want to take up veterinary medicine, but the problem is I had a bad experience relating to that course.

Being an animal and environmental advocate all my life, I grew up beside a veterinary clinic where I witnessed dogs and cats come in and out all day. Little did I know that my father, a former veterinarian, influenced by his female assistant, injected these animals (I admired from afar) with water ---- for the selfish reason of ---- that's right, making more money.

Sick animals were brought in and eventually died. My aunt told me one devastated owner was sensible enough to have his dog checked for a second opinion. When that particular client sued my Dad, their schemes were revealed.

I was seriously apalled when I learned about this ballyhoo years later. Now I know why he couldn't return to his profession, though my mom insisted on him pursuing it, because of his shame and his ruined reputation as an animal doctor.

As told by my aunt and mother later on, my Dad was seduced by his female assistant into using water instead of real medicines on their patients. I didn't know who to believe. But all those years I've known my Dad, I've known him as a chronic push-over (also known as a male doormat) with an aversive style of confrontation and a secret rebellious nature. I decided it was more logical that he had been influenced by someone else, because he won't instrinsically put a living creature's life on the line out of his own motive.

I remembered his assistant very well, a slim and tall young woman who I always kept my eyes on. Even when I was very young, instinct told me not to like her. She had this hostile aura when I was around, as if she was trying to hide something from me; knowing my younger self, I was never intimidated by the dirty looks she threw at me. I took her on without a second thought.

When I wasn't playing, I spent most of my time hanging out inside the clinic where I stay close to my father like a guard dog. She'd stand near my father, occassionally flirting, and I'd pretend to play with my feet by swinging them wildly with every intent to hit her. I recall my father scolded me because swinging my feet was dangerous --- so I obeyed him and stopped ---- resting my feet on top of the table across me, thus separating them. Whenever my Dad left the clinic to get something, I would swing my feet again.

I refuse to blame my Dad for not pursuing his veterinary practice; it's the mess he got himself in to that led to the demise of his veterinary career. I could just imagine the shame he went through, and the consequences of his mistake that slowly took its toll on his morals.

When I told my mother's side of the family during my senior high school year that I was considering Veterinary Medicine as a course, she reacted like I just licked my baby brother's shit off his diaper and told everybody else in our "tight-knit" family about it. Their tongues lashed out unheard of insults and criticisms faster than a bullet train. Their discouragement could match President Bush's hatred towards Iraq. Veterinarian became a dirty word in our family, and although I secretly wanted to take up that course, I eventually changed my mind to cease the negative feedbacks.

Maybe Veterinary Medicine wasn't made for someone like me, but I do as much as research as I could on my animal friends and the animals we rescue with all due respect to their natural instincts.

It may be the most I could do, but every new discovery excites me more than any material luxury.




This is Emil, a gorgeous 5-year old dog from PARC looking for a home.
Find out more about Emil in Me Find Home. Make a difference today --- adopt a dog and gain a friend. :)