2020-05-01 All Creatures

color me !

FUN FACTS: There are 13 otter species around the globe. These semiaquatic mammals can hold their breath for up to eight minutes. Sea otters carry food in the loose skin of their armpits, have the thickest fur of any animal and are the only otters to give birth in the water. River otters open their eyes for the fi rst time one month after birth and hunt at night, sometimes eating turtles and amphibians.

Send Us Your Otter: Remove the back cover and mail your fi nished coloring to All Creatures, 110 William Street, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038. N

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Senior Pets Welcome! Steve Greig’s

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Editor’s Note

—Edward Grinnan, Editorial Director

JULEE CALLED TO SAY that something was wrong with Gracie, our four-year-old golden. I rushed home, praying Gracie would greet me with her usual exuberance. Instead, she moved tentatively, leaned into my leg and looked up at me imploringly. She was in pain.

Julee said our vet, Dr. Barbara, thought Gracie might have strained a muscle, but we wouldn’t know without a full-body scan. “She prescribed pain pills and said to watch her for a few days.” Julee’s eyes were red with tears. She was fi ght-

ing her own pain, having just had back surgery. She should have been in bed herself. But Gracie comes fi rst.

How terrible to see our beloved animals suff er. They can’t usually tell you what’s wrong or even how to help them. But they want your help.

Gracie is a high-energy, athletic creature, graceful as the wind. Her brother, we’re told, is a champion agility dog, and it was possible that Gracie simply tweaked something during her own lively exertions. But how could we be sure it wasn’t serious? I grew more worried when Gracie refused to climb the stairs to the second fl oor. Where would she sleep? Would she make an attempt in the middle of the night to come up to Julee and me and hurt herself further?

Julee ladled a measure of warm homemade chicken noodle soup into Gracie’s bowl. “This always makes her feel better,” she said.

I watched Gracie until it was bedtime. I climbed the stairs, hoping she would follow. Lord, it would make me feel so much better if she came up. Please…Gracie just sat on the landing, her eyes pleading and plaintive before she drooped her head and I disappeared into the bedroom.

A minute later I reappeared at the top of the stairs, holding my pillow and a blanket. Gracie raised her head. Her tail wagged slowly at the sight of my bed-ding. She understood I was coming down to sleep with her. She knew she would be safe. That’s all she needed from me. That’s all so many animals need from us humans. To know that we are there for them, just as they are so often there for us.

I pulled Gracie’s bed next to the couch, and we settled in for the night, her with a satisfi ed sigh. In the morning we both felt better, and in a few days she was running like the wind again.

Order Always By My Side at guideposts .org/millie, or look for it wherever books are sold.

26 MY BEST TEACHERSLife lessons from some special San Diego Zoo residents. By Georgeanne Irvine, San Diego, California

30 OUR BROODY HENShe waited and waited for her eggs to hatch. Was she meant to be a mama?By Crystal Sands, Bangor, Maine

32 A NEW PERSPECTIVEA photographer learns to see depression differently.By Matt Stevens, Honolulu, Hawaii

37 THEIR MYSTERIOUS WAYSThat bell had rung for a reason.By Diane Stark, Contributing Editor

38 HELPING AMERICA’S ANIMALSMeet volunteers around the country who are making life better for creatures big and small.By Peggy Frezon, Contributing Editor

41 CREATURE COMFORTSFins sliced through the water. This is the end, she thought.By Ruth E. Wilson, Sydney, Australia

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5 UNEXPECTED FRIENDSA prickly pal and his best bud. By Desiree Cole, Contributing Editor

6 PEACEABLE KINGDOMHer reminder to take in God’s world. By Jacquie Walsh Durkin, Bluffton, South Carolina

8 PAW PRINTSA roundup of news, expert advice, fun facts and more, including pilots rescuing pups, an unusual wish granted and a coop saved by cops.

16 FINDING FLUFFYTheir cat had never strayed....By Marcy DeAntonio, Altoona, Pennsylvania

20 FOREVER FAMILYAdopting animals that no one else wanted helped Steve Greig heal.By Alina Larson, Contributing Editor

25 THE PROVIDERHow would the birds survive? By Patty Kirk

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42 HOW I MET MY PETWhy he was led to a puppy and a kitten on the same day.By Shannon Minter, Winnsboro, Texas

44 IS THIS FOR REAL?Actress Daphne Neville’s longest-running role: otter conservationist.By Alina Larson, Contributing Editor

46 HERE’S TO PET PARENTSCaring for a furry loved one goes far beyond fi lling the food bowl. By Peggy Frezon, Contributing Editor

on the web Special Guests Nursing home resident Joyce

Gardner’s wish to meet a penguin came true (page 10). Watch a video of the three unusual visitors spend-ing time with Joyce and other seniors at guideposts.org/penguins.

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All Creatures invites unso licited manuscripts but cannot be responsible for returning them. Mail them to All Creatures, 110 William Street, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038. All Creatures (ISSN 2572-1712) is published bimonthly by Guideposts, 100 Reserve Road, Suite E200, Danbury, CT 06810. Standard nonprofi t postage paid. Canadian GST #893989236. Copyright © 2020 by Guideposts, all rights reserved. Volume 4, No. 5. Issue date: May/June 2020. Printed in U.S.A. Postmaster: Send address changes to Guideposts, P.O. Box 5814, Harlan, IA 51593-1314. Canada Post: Send address changes to P.O. Box 1051, Fort Erie, ON L2A 6C7.

A GUIDEPOSTS PUBLICATION

All Creatures is a bimonthly magazine featuring true stories of the animals who share

our lives and inspire us to be better people.

Editorial Director & Vice PresidentEdward Grinnan

Executive Editor Amy WongCreative Director Kayo Der Sarkissian

Managing Editor Megan TroiseArt Director Gigi Fava

Photo Editors Kristin Sladen, Kevin EansCopy Editor and Production

Coordinator Steve LevineProduction Editor Celia M. Gibbons

Senior Contributing EditorsRick Hamlin, Colleen Hughes

Senior Digital Editor Sabra CiancanelliSenior Digital Producer Brett Leveridge

Assistant Digital Producer Ashley LateefContributors

Meg Belviso, Allison Churchill, Desiree Cole, Amanda Ericson, Peggy Frezon,

Lisa Guernsey, Jim Hinch, Alina Larson, Celeste McCauley, Evan Miller, Mari Pack,

Doug Snyder, Diane Stark, Elena Tafone, Sara Touzard, Alikay Wood

President & CEOJohn Temple

Chief Financial O� cer David Teitler

Senior Vice Presidents Rocco Martino, Kelly Mangold, Heather Dennis, Carl Hixson

Vice PresidentsWilliam McGlynn (Magazine Marketing)

James Asselmeyer (Production) Julian Lama (Continuity and Book Marketing)

Ty’Ann Brown (Outreach) Chris Mellor (Books and Inspirational Media)

Ansley Roan (Digital Content)

FOR CUSTOMER SERVICE:P.O. Box 5814, Harlan, IA 51593–1314;

guideposts.org/customerservice

Do you have a story about a pet or other animal that inspired you or changed your life?

Send a manuscript to All Creatures, 110 William Street, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038 or

[email protected]. Connect with us at facebook.com/allcreaturesmagazine.


Zookeeper Estelle Morgan was determined to help baby porcupine Diablo survive. Diablo’s mother, overwhelmed with her porcupette twins who had arrived just months earlier, rejected him after he was born at Cotswold Wildlife Park & Gardens in England. Morgan took Diablo home, hoping his appetite would improve. That’s where he met her dachshund, Fig. “It’s safe to say they have become best friends,” Morgan told South West News Service. “Under close supervision, they will run around the garden togeth-er, and Fig has been very gentle and patient with Diablo,” she says. The other good news? Diablo gained a whopping four pounds in only six weeks. —Desiree Cole, Contributing Editor

unexpected friendsDiablo and Fig

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I drove through my neighborhood the day after a spiritual retreat, feel ing more present. I heard the birds talking to one another. I saw bees in the budding flowers. Then, right in front of me, four adult ducks stepped out into the road. The last one hesitated, looking back at her ba-bies, who were too scared to cross. She quacked as if to say, “Come on, you can do it!” One by one they fol lowed her, safely making it to the other side. I was happy to have witnessed that moment. It was a reminder to slow down and take notice of God’s beautiful world. —Jacquie Walsh Durkin

Bluffton, South Carolina

Share a moment of connection you’ve

had with one of God’s creatures (poems

and prayers welcome). Send it to allcreatures

@guideposts.org or All Creatures, 110 William

Street, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038.


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People and animals going the extra mile to help other creatures in need

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Flying the Furry SkiesWHEN PILOT Jon Wehrenberg agreed to fl y a rescued Dober-man from Florida to South Carolina back in 2008, he had no idea it would be the start of something special. His friend Debi Boies, a Doberman rescuer, asked if he would help her get this one dog to a better home. After that fl ight Wehren-

berg and Boies real-ized they could do so much more. They founded Pilots N Paws (PNP), connecting pri-vate pilots with rescue, shelter and foster or-ganizations to provide safe transports for animals in need of for-ever homes.

PNP now has 18,000 volunteers (6,000 of whom are pilots) across

going beyond


George Azzi fl ies rescue missions for Pilots N Paws.

the country. There are a number of people involved in each mis-sion. The work begins long before pilots get involved. First, a rescu-er gets notifi ed about an animal in need, then he or she evaluates the situation. Is vet or foster care needed? Where will this animal have the best chance of fi nding a home?

If a transport is the next step, the rescuer issues a request via the PNP online forum. “We get alerts if a request is

posted in our area,” says Los Angeles–based helicopter pilot George Azzi, whose PNP volunteering com-bines his two passions: animals and avia-tion. Most pilots fl y up to 300 miles, but if the distance is longer, they relay by meet-ing at airports along the journey. “I’ve heard of relays involv-ing eight to ten pilots, covering thousands of miles,” Azzi says.

Since 2008, PNP vol-unteers have fl own more than 175,000 ani-mals—dogs, cats, even ducks. Azzi says it opens up so many more doors. “Potential pets might get over-looked at shelters be-

cause an adopter is not able to travel to get them,” he says. “With our help, you can rescue a dog or a cat from across the country. Or an animal might be saved by getting medical help faster.” Like the stray husky Azzi took on his fi rst PNP fl ight that had been hit by a car in Tijuana, Mexico, and needed immediate care.

Even though the pilots usually don’t see these animals again, Azzi says that helping them get to a safer, happier place means everything to him. “When we’re up in the air, they know they don’t have to be afraid anymore. For me, that makes it all worth it.”

—Wendy Sotos Strongsville, Ohio

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IT WAS HATCH DAY for Michelle Sullivan’s Silkie chicken eggs when a nor’easter hit Derry, New Hampshire, knocking out the elec-tricity at 4 a.m. She awoke to the sound of

The Cops and the Coop

Chicks and eggs staying warm at the police precinct

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the incubator turning on and off, which meant the temperature would drop quickly.

To hatch, eggs need the incuba-tor kept at 99.5 degrees with high humidity. She also had six two-week-old chicks to keep warm.

“Neighbors didn’t have power either,” Sullivan says. One baby had already pecked a hole in its egg. She called the Derry Police Department in a panic. Could she bring her soon-to-be flock there to ride out the storm? They agreed.

Sullivan set up her heat lamps, incubator and chicks, turning an interview room into a coop. A steady stream of officers visited. “It made our day,” says Lt. Eric Kester, who calls Sulli-van “the ultimate mother hen.”

Five of the 11 eggs hatched, and Sullivan says none of her Silkies would be alive if it weren’t for the police department’s generosity. Lesson learned: Even parenting chicks takes a village.

—Monica Lester, Contributing Editor

NEW RESIDENTS at the Bernadette House, a senior care home in Lincoln,

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England, are asked to make a wish when they move in. But Joyce Gardner, 99, didn’t ask for just anything—she wanted to meet a penguin.

“I’m always look-ing for something diff erent to entertain the residents, so…I thought it was a great idea,” home director Elizabeth Stephens told Birmingham Live.

A few months after Gardner’s request, Pringle, Charlie and Groot—three Hum-boldt penguins who are no strangers to the limelight—were waddling around the Bernadette House. Originally from Chile, the two-foot-tall birds live at Heythrop

Zoological Gardens and often work at events or on camera.

Gardner’s wish turned out to be a gift for all—her peers enjoyed the unique vis-itors, who sat on the seniors’ laps with the help of a handler. “Most of our residents live with dementia, and animal and bird therapy is very calm-ing and therapeutic,” Stephens told the BBC.

For Gardner, it was unforgettable. “I’ve always loved animals, especially penguins,” she told Birmingham Live. “To meet one in real life was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had.”

—Monica Lester Contributing Editor

Not your everyday visitor

WILD ORANGUTANS are found in only two places on earth: the islands of Sumatra and Borneo. The three species that exist are all critically endangered, and as the rain forest shrinks, orang-utans are coming into closer con-tact with humans. Despite laws prohibiting hunting, harming or own ing red apes, many mothers are killed so their babies can be sold as exotic pets.

Orangutan Outreach, a U.S.-based nonprofit, has been working since 2007 to save these intelli-gent creatures. “We partner with organizations in Indonesia to educate people about the impor-tance of the rain forests and the vital role orangutans play in that ecosystem,” says outreach co-ordinator Debbie Clemens.

The nonprofit supports the res-cue, rehabilitation and release operations of orangutan conserva-tion organizations. This includes

forest school for the babies who don’t have mothers to teach them how to find food, build nests and avoid predators. “Orangutan Outreach sends funding to res-cue centers in Indonesia that raise the orphans and teach them skills so they can be released into the wild,” she says. The centers also care for adult apes who can’t survive on their own.

One of Orangutan Outreach’s primary fundraisers is the MOM campaign, which is held every year on Mother’s Day. “MOM stands for Missing Orang-utan Mothers,” Clemens says. “We partner with zoos and other organizations to bring atten-tion to this orphan crisis.” Learn more at redapes.org/mom. You can also support the orphans through a virtual orangutan adop-tion at redapes.org/adopt.

—Diane Stark Contributing Editor

Hope for Orangutan Orphans

Babies Alejandra and Topan resting in a hammock during forest school.


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IN JANUARY, California became the first state to waive pet adop-tion fees for veterans. State Senator Ling Ling Chang, who wrote the bill, said that she’s “glad we can reduce the barriers for bringing together veterans seeking companion animals and pets in need of a home.”

The Golden State is home to two million veterans, and its shelters take in 800,000 animals a year. But only half of those animals are adopted, which gives this law even more meaning. For veterans out side California, several organizations can help.

Vets Adopt Pets has a network of shelters around the country that have agreed to waive adop-tion fees for veterans. Founder Barbara Teasdale discovered as a child that her great uncle Freddy, a World War I veteran, opened up more when her pup Cuddles was around. Starting Pets Adopt Vets was a way for her to help animals and people like her uncle.

Another option is Pets for Patri-ots in Long Beach, New York. Veterans provide proof of ser vice; shelters choose the animal; and upon adoption, Pets for Patriots arranges discounts on veteri-nary care, pet food, supplies and other essentials.

While not all veterans need a trained service animal, many can benefit from having a pet. Just ask New Yorker and Army veter-an Jessica Apgar, who likens her bond with her adopted calico to those in the military. “You depend on the friend next to you, not just to keep you safe, but for a laugh or a shoulder to cry on.”

—Allison ChurchillContributing Editor

why we love… free pets for veterans

Many veterans can benefi t from having a pet.

paw prints


Special ways we remember our companions

I’ll never forget you

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ONE SATURDAY in August 2000, I was working the bake sale table at my church’s annual peach festival, thinking about how I was going to cele-brate my forty-ninth birthday the follow-ing month. I wanted to do something special since it was also my third anniversary as a breast cancer survi vor. I chatted with a cus-tomer at my table and learned she was caring for six Chihuahua pup-pies. What if I adopted one to celebrate? The idea took hold. When I met the puppies, one in particular begged me to pick her up. She’s as sweet as peaches and cream, I thought.

Peachie and I were a family from then on. We moved to a new house when she was nine. To help her adapt, I fenced in an outdoor area, where we enjoyed the sun and played with her toys together. I’ve

The plaque for Peachie reads, “Our precious little angel. Always loved and truly missed. Forever in our hearts!”

had many dogs but this one stole my heart. A brain tumor took Pea-chie at 18. I said good-bye and promised I’d always remember her. Six months after she died, I had a beautiful bronze bench placed in her play area, where she was buried. I want-ed Peachie to know that

I kept my promise. —Susan M. Meredith

Cambridge, Maryland

Do you commemorate your pet in a special way? Share it with us! Send a photo to [email protected] or All Creatures, 110 William Street, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038.

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Expert answers for pet concerns paw prints

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should I be worried?Q

Featured expert: Marcie Fallek, DVM, CVA A

My 13-year-old border collie, Charlie, has severe arthritis in his shoulders and hips. He doesn’t seem to be in pain but is sti� when he tries to get up. I was shocked that some vets told me to put him to sleep. Could natural treatments help?

—Dirk Ebeling, Prague, Oklahoma

I have good news for you and Charlie: Holistic treatments really do work. In almost 30 years of practicing holistic veterinary medicine, I’ve never seen a dog euthanized because of arthritis.

Many holistic treat-ments can address this debilitating con-dition, without the danger of severe, even life-threatening side eff ects caused by some conventional drugs.

There are several types of arthritis. Oste-oarthritis, the most common type, is a progressive deteriora-tion of joint cartilage and bone, resulting in

Charlie’s stiff ness. He’s probably a valiant collie that doesn’t let his condition keep him down. He might not seem to be in pain, but pain is what limits his ability to rise from a lying position or take long walks.

Acupuncture works wonders for arthritis in dogs. When a dog has severe arthritis, a veterinary acupunc-turist will often add a mild electrical stimu-lation to the needles to facilitate energy fl ow and promote healing. Cold laser treatments,

which use low fre-quencies, can help too.

It’s important to keep Charlie mov-ing; the more he lies around, the stiff er he’ll become. Try to fi nd a facility that off ers hydrotherapy for dogs. Moving on underwater treadmills and in dog pools will strengthen the mus-cles around Charlie’s compromised joints, relieving pressure on the joints themselves. His range of motion and mobility will im-prove, and his dis-comfort will decrease.


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Steve Greig welcomed music-loving Tofu to the family.

Karen, after heart surgery

calendarMany herbs and supplements—such as glucosamine/chondroitin sulfate, hyaluronic acid, curcumin (turmeric), ginger, boswellia and devil’s claw—can alleviate arthritic pain. But quality makes a diff erence. Consult a professional so you know what you’re getting. A combi-nation of movement therapy and supple-ments is often the best way to see results. Work with a trained holistic veterinarian to develop an individual-ized treatment plan for your dog.

In my opinion, Charlie has a lot of life left to live. My border-collie mix has had severe arthritis since she was eight years old. She’s now 15 and, with the help of ho-listic treatments, takes three long walks a day.

Marcie Fallek has spe-cial ized in holistic veterinary medicine for 27 years in New York City and Fairfield, Con-necticut. Learn more about her at holisticvet.us.

MOTHER’S DAYMAY 10 There was one hen in Crystal Sands’s fl ock that desperate-ly wanted to be a mother. Would she ever get a chance (page 30)?

NATIONAL ZOO AND AQUARIUM MONTHJUNEGeorgeanne Irvine shares stories of per severance, friend-ship and miracles from her more than 40 years at the San Diego Zoo (page 26).

PET APPRECIATION WEEKJUNE 7–13Find out why Steve Greig decided to adopt animals that nobody wanted—including nine senior dogs, a pig and a turkey (page 20).

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The conditions outside weren’t fi t for man or beast. Or cat. Es-pecially our big gray cat, Fluff y,

who was probably curled up in a patch of daylight in the greenhouse and fl ower shop we ran next to our house. The snow was piled high where the plows had come through. It looked as if it was going to be a quiet day for our family business.

Then a car pulled up. I went outside to see if it was a customer. The driver rolled down the window. “Excuse me,” he said. “I’m Mark. Did you lose a cat? I found one near the grocery store parking lot last night.”

Fluff y? That was more than three miles from our home. There was no way our blind cat could get that far, even if she did wander off . “No, it couldn’t be,” I said.

“This cat is big, gray and fl uff y,” he said. “And I think she’s blind.”

My eyes widened. I asked Mark if he would wait while I looked for her. She was nowhere in the greenhouse. Mark volunteered to drive back to his

house to fetch her. “It’s no problem,” he said. “She’s a good cat.”

“I didn’t even know she was gone!” I said when I had Fluffy safe in my arms again. I off ered Mark a reward, but he refused it. “I’m just glad I found you,” he said. “I went all over town looking for Fluff y’s owner. A woman a few blocks over told me she’d seen a cat in your greenhouse.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said. But how did Fluff y get all the way to the market? What kind of adventure had she been on? Who was the mys-tery neighbor who directed Mark

finding f luffy

Our cat watched over the greenhouses of our fl ower

business—and we watched that she didn’t stray

By Marcy DeAntonio Altoona, Pennsylvania


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to us? Since Fluffy couldn’t tell me, I was determined to fi gure it out.

The night before, I’d received a call from my niece, Kerri. “Hi, Aunt Marcy,” she said. “I know it’s late, but can you help me blow up some balloons for Mia’s party?” It was her daughter’s birthday the next day.

“Of course,” I said. “I have a he-lium tank in the greenhouse. I’ll meet you there.” We blew up balloon after balloon. At one point Kerri went out-side to get more. She took so long I went to see if I could help—and left the greenhouse door open. That must

have been when Fluffy got out. But how did she walk all the way to the grocery store? Unless she didn’t walk. Kerri and I had kept her car doors open as we fi lled it with balloons. It’s possible that Fluff y had jumped into her car for warmth.

Feeling a bit like Miss Marple, I called Kerri. “Where did you go last night after we blew up the balloons?” She’d gone straight home. “Hmm,” I said. Maybe Fluff y hadn’t been in her car. “Are you sure you didn’t take your car anywhere else?” I asked.

“That wasn’t my car,” Kerri said.

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“I borrowed my husband’s.”Aha! “Did Tony go anywhere in his

car last night after you got home?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Kerri said. “He went to the grocery store to get a few more sup-plies for Mia’s birthday.” That had to be it! Fluff y had jumped into Tony’s car while Kerri was here, and she rode all the way to Kerri’s house. Then, unknown to Tony, Fluffy rode with him to the store. She must have got-ten out while he loaded his groceries. I hated to think of Fluff y alone so far away from home. It was lucky that Mark had noticed her in the parking lot. And even more lucky that he was kind of a sleuth himself.

In the morning Mark drove around the area looking for lost-cat signs. When he encountered people along the way, he described Fluff y to them.

He finally ended up on Sycamore Street, which was only two blocks from us. He told me that he spotted a woman in her driveway and made his inquiry. “No, I don’t have a cat,” she said. “But the woman who owns the greenhouse and fl ower shop on Ge-neva Lane has one. Maybe it belongs to her.” She turned out to be Fluff y’s second angel. I wished I could thank her, but Mark couldn’t remember which house on Sycamore it was. I’d exhausted my detective skills. Miss Marple I wasn’t. At least most of the mystery is solved, I thought, stroking Fluff y’s fur.

We got on with our day, and I took extra care to keep the greenhouse door shut tightly. Fluff y fell back into her routine of sleeping in sunlit patches and purring for our customers.

A FEW WEEKS LATER, I received a phone order from Debbie, one of our regulars.

“I’ll just mail the bill to your house as usual,” I told her.

“Great, but I have a new address,” Debbie said. “I moved into a new place on Sycamore Street.”

I paused. “About three weeks ago did a man in a car stop and ask you about a lost cat?”

“Yes!” she said. “I told him it might have been yours. Was it?”

“It was!” I told her. “Fluff y found her way home because of you.”

That made two angels and one cat found. I could close my case.

Marcy and current greenhouse denizen Jazzy

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forever familySo many senior and disabled animals are overlooked at shelters. Steve Greig not only sees them, he gives them the love they long for

By Alina Larson, Contributing Editor


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Accountant Steve Greig’s motley family of 16 animals has taken over his suburban Colorado home. Crazy? Not to him. The all-senior crew, which includes a moody 110-pound pig and a music-loving turkey, has helped him heal after his greatest loss and given the lifelong animal caregiver unexpected blessings of joy, fame and friendship.

Have you always had pets?I grew up in a little town in New Mexico. My parents were animal lovers and let me bring home any creature I wanted, as long as I could take care of it. We always had a dog. I also had hamsters, ger-bils, rats, a duck. I’ve only ever known life with a bunch of animals.

Tell us about the special dog that came along when you were an adult. I became an accountant and bought a house. I had three dogs at the time and loved them all. I’ve never met a dog I didn’t connect with. Then I got Wolfgang, a miniature pinscher puppy who I became especially close with. We did everything together; we went on vacation and even went horseback riding together. We could look at each other and know what the other was thinking.

What happened to him?He was hit by a car and died when he was 12. I was 36 and devastated. It was the worst thing in the world. A month, then two months, then three months later, I was still not feeling any better. I thought, Something good has to happen. Something good has to come from this.

So what did you do? My parents had instilled in me the

importance of adopting shelter dogs. I decided to adopt the oldest dog I could fi nd at the shelter. I went there and was just about to leave when a 12-year-old Chi-hua hua with bad knees and a heart murmur sat on my lap. I could just feel the joy radiating from this dog. I could feel him lifting my spirits. And I thought, I can help this dog live. He’d been at the shelter a long time. He had one ear pointing down and one ear sticking up. I named him Eeyore, and today he is 19 years old. He still has a bunch of issues, but he’s doing great.

How did adopting Eeyore change you? Eeyore was the fi rst senior animal I adopted. But from that moment on, I realized that was what I was sup-posed to do. It was the best way to honor Wolfgang. And the best way to heal after his death. I’ve only adopted seniors and animals with disabilities since then. It has felt so impactful. So I adopted another and another. Now I have nine se-nior dogs. That’s my magic number! I also have a pig named Bikini, a rabbit, two ducks, four chickens and a turkey named Tofu who gob bles along to Madonna tunes.

You essentially have a farm family but not on a farm.… Well, I’m in an area of Denver where Steve kicking back with his animal crew

there’s an exception to the pet maximum number. They all have plenty of space to roam and relax.

How do you juggle a full-time job and caring for such a large and diverse group? During the week I get up at 5 A.M., be-fore my day as an accountant begins, because it takes a couple of hours to feed everyone, give out medications and clean up. Luckily, I live close to work, so two days a week I come

home at lunch to take care of them. Otherwise I have a great housekeeper who is just as crazy about animals as I am. I get home at 5 P.M. and do it all over again.

As seniors, are they able to exercise much? There are five dogs who don’t walk. They have heart problems or are blind, so I pull them in a wagon while the others walk. I have a couple of doggie doors so they have access

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to the outdoors when they want some fresh air.

How does your giant Irish wolfhound deal with all these little old dogs? I had Enoch before I started adopting seniors, and now he’s nine years old. He’s so low-key, he’s great with putting up with all these oldies.

And there’s a pig in the mix? Bikini has been with me for five years.

I was at a chicken swap in Denver and met this guy whose land-lord wouldn’t let him keep his pet pig. The pig had already lived with dogs and had even used a dog-gie door. Of course, I had to have mine enlarged for her—twice. She’s 100 percent house-trained, moody at times and now, at eight years old, 110 pounds.

Though the majority of Steve’s pets are dogs, a turkey, a pig and a rabbit have settled in too.

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What do your friends and family say about your crew? They’re so used to it by now. Besides, they thought I was crazy before all of this!

What do you say to someone who is worried that adopting a senior dog will mean expensive health care? Animals will always have health problems, no matter their age. When I got Eeyore seven years ago, he had heart and knee issues, but he’s been on heart medication and is doing well now. With any pet, you need to be prepared for medical expenses—even a young dog can cost you. Older dogs are so much easier. They just want to be with you. They only need short walks. As you get older, you become the best version of yourself, and that’s true of dogs, too.

If someone loves older dogs but is worried about the responsibility, they should foster. Most shelters need fosters, and they’ll cover the costs. I get so many messages on Instagram from people who adopted senior dogs and are so glad they did. I’ve never received a negative response about it, actually.

How did your Instagram following become so huge? I’m the last person you’d expect to have a social media presence. I joined Instagram because I liked sharing pictures of these animals I love. And the number of followers just kept growing and growing. It really is crazy

that it took off like this. I think people like it because they get to see ani-mals get adopted and happily live out their lives.

How did your book, The One & Only Wolfgang: From Pet Rescue to One Big Happy Family, get its start? After you hit a certain number of Instagram followers, you get lots of offers. I received several to write books. When HarperCollins brought up the idea of creating a children’s book, I thought it was great. What a wonderful message for younger people: that seniors need to be cher-ished. Kids get so many messages about how the newest is the best, but not about the importance of loving people and animals and things that are old. So for me, that was a good reason to do it.

What was the process like? It was crazy! There are real photos with the illustrations, so the pub-lishers would tell me they wanted this or that pose. But working with a pig—you never know how cooper-ative they’ll be! Promoting the book for several months, traveling and doing author readings while still having a full-time job—it’s been busy but amazing. The book is dedi-cated to Wolfgang, so the experience was bittersweet. I’m grateful to be able to share what a loving senior animal family can be.

Follow Steve and his animal family on Instagram @wolfgang2242.


DURING THE DROUGHT this past summer, I rigged up a fi ne trickle from the sprayer attachment on my hose for the birds and spent hours watching them from my kitch-en window. Standing motionless in the drizzle were not just the usual cardinals and chickadees, but also yellow-billed cuckoos, painted buntings, brown thrashers andhermit thrushes. Moved by the parched birds’ miser-able demeanor—beaks open, tongues thrust out—I had taken to watering them out of pity and worry, leaving the hose on even when I left the house for most of the day.

My winter provisions of seeds and suet evolved simi-larly. At fi rst, I fi lled the feeders only occasionally, to watch the birds gather. Now I buy seed in 50-pound sacks. The birds, I think, would starve without my help.

So when they suddenly disappeared from the fi lled-up feeders this spring, I was confused. What can they be eat-ing? I wondered, scanning the woods’ edge for seedeaters scratching for worms among the robins. No cardinals or fi nches there, and it would be months before there’d be seeds or fruit of any kind. How will they survive without food? I fretted.

Just then I heard a racket in the treetops. I looked up and got my answer. Finches, waxwings and chickadees were chowing down on tree tassels.

God always provides, I learned, not just for birds but for us as well.

the provider

Creator God, thank you for your ever-constant provision!

Let it direct our gaze toward you.—Patty KirkIL

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my best teachersIn more than 40 years of working at the

San Diego Zoo, I have learned a lot from the animalsBy Georgeanne Irvine, San Diego, California

M y career at the San Diego Zoo started back in 1978. As a child, I often visited this zoo,

and getting a job there was a dream come true. At fi rst, I didn’t know much about the issues facing wildlife, but I quickly learned that many species were—and still are—in trouble and desperately need our help.

Initially, I worked in public rela-tions and fundraising. Then, in 2017, I helped launch the San Diego Zoo Global Press, which publishes books for adults and children. I write the

Hope and Inspiration children’s se-ries, which features true stories about animals at the zoo and its Safari Park that have overcome challenges and hardships in their lives. The animals I write about hold a special place in my heart.

I wanted these books to introduce children to a specific animal, help them grow to love that animal and then teach them the importance of protecting all animals. The books have had a greater impact than I ever expected: Young readers have learned


important life lessons through the stories. To be honest, so have I.

FRIENDSHIP HEALS The zoo has paired cheetahs and dogs as animal ambassadors since the 1980s. Cheetahs are shy and nervous and need the comfort of their canine companions. Because the cub and pup are raised together, they form strong, lifelong bonds. Ruuxa, a cheetah cub at the Safari Park, and Raina, a Rho-desian ridgeback puppy, were like brother and sister from the start. Keepers noticed that young Ruuxa’s legs were bowed. Veterinarians were unsure if he’d ever be able to run, even after surgery, but no one told Ruuxa he couldn’t. With Raina by his side during recovery, it wasn’t long before he was running at top speed.

When Raina was two, veterinar-ians discovered several tumors in her body and diagnosed her with termi-nal cancer. Raina had just months to live! Trainers were heartbroken for her and worried how Ruuxa would do without her. They brought in Little Rae, a Rhodesian ridgeback puppy, hoping this new friend would be there for Ruuxa when Raina was gone. Then something amazing happened: Raina didn’t die. She didn’t even seem sick anymore. Another scan showed that the two smaller tumors had dis-appeared and the larger tumor had shrunk enough so it could be removed. Three rounds of chemotherapy later, she was cancer-free. Today Ruuxa, Rai na and Little Rae live together. Their friendship reminds me to be-lieve in miracles.

From left: Georgeanne poses with Floyd; Mosi Musa, ignored by his mom, hugs a stuffed monkey.

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COURAGE IS CONTAGIOUS Karen, a Sumatran orangutan, was raised by keepers because her mother wasn’t able to nurse her. At a year old, Karen wasn’t growing as quickly as she should have been. Veterinarians discovered a penny-size hole in her heart. She needed open-heart sur-gery, which had never been done on an orangutan.

Two of the world’s top cardiac sur-geons volunteered to repair Karen’s heart. For two weeks following the surgery, Karen remained on a venti-lator because of a lung infection, and doctors were concerned she might not survive. Finally, she started breathing on her own.

Karen’s story was all over the news. Letters poured in from around the world. One get-well card came from a fi ve-year-old girl named Jennie, who was fi ghting leukemia. She promised to visit Karen as soon as she was well enough. Jennie beat cancer and grew up to become an emergency room

nurse. To this day, Jennie still visits Karen at the zoo every chance she gets. Sharing the challenges we face can help others summon the bravery to overcome their own challenges.

MAKE THE MOST OF WHAT YOU’VE BEEN GIVEN Seven years ago, Floyd the fl amingo was hatched and started his training to be an animal ambassador at the zoo. As Floyd grew, his caretakers no-ticed that his legs were crooked, and it looked as if he had two left feet. He went through a series of surgeries to straighten his legs. Still, no one was sure Floyd would ever walk again. He worked hard to regain his strength and balance, and when he took his first steps on his own, his trainers cried with joy. Floyd rejoined his fl ock and returned to his job as an animal ambassador.

One day last December, Floyd fell. His legs were injured so badly, there was nothing veterinarians could do.


It was devastating to lose Floyd, but he lived seven wonderful years—time he never would have had if he hadn’t persevered. He showed me that life isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth living.

IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO FULFILL YOUR PURPOSE When Mosi Musa, a vervet monkey, was born, his mother showed no inter-est in caring for him. But his grandma, Thelma, was drawn to him. She cud-dled and held him and taught him to be a monkey. Mosi grew confi dent and independent, thanks to his grandma, and soon he was able to live full-time with his vervet family.

Eventually Thelma’s health failed. I visited her shortly before she died. Even in her weakened state, she continued to be protective of Mosi. She fulfilled her purpose until the end. Thelma reminded me that we’re never too old to make a diff erence, a message that resonates with me

as I approach an age at which many people retire. I love what I do and plan to help animals for as long as I can.

These days I’m busy observing and sometimes photographing close to 10 animals for future children’s books. There’s something fascinating about not knowing how each story will turn out. It’s a lot like life, I guess—not knowing where it will go is part of the adventure.

I’ve learned so much about dif-ferent species over the course of my career. All I’ve ever wanted to do was share that knowledge. That’s why I started writing these books, to teach people about animals. As it turns out, the animals are the real teachers.

Georgeanne Irvine is the author of Fabulous Floyd, Karen’s Heart, Mosi Musa and Ruuxa & Raina. Find out more about the books at hopeandinspiration.sandiegozoo.org.

From left: Karen and her nursery mom; Ruuxa, Raina and Little Rae happy together

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our broody

hen She waited and waited for

her eggs to hatch. But was she meant to be a mama?

By Crystal Sands, Bangor, Maine

‘‘THAT CHICKEN just growled,” my husband said, surprised and amused.

“I think she’s broody,” I said. “How long does that last?” Ron

asked. I didn’t have an answer. A hen goes

broody when she wants to hatch eggs. She will sit on them for days, weeks, even months. During this time, her maternal instinct kicks in and she can be sensitive and defensive, protecting her soon-to-be babies.

Our hen was one of 17 beautiful Rhode Island Reds on our farm. We hadn’t named them, but she stood out for her behavior and aff ection-ately became known as Broody Hen.

Each evening, when my husband or I would collect eggs from the coop, Broody Hen would growl and peck, upset that we were taking hers again. We didn’t have a rooster yet, so her eggs weren’t fertilized and would never hatch. We had to fi nd a way to help her move on.

One night, Ron came in from the coop excitedly. “I fi gured out she re-ally likes grapes! I traded them for eggs!” Broody Hen had gobbled up the

grapes, raised herself up and let him take all her eggs. No fussing.

Over many nights of this same rou-tine, we got to know Broody Hen and fell in love with her. She would let us pet her and sit with her. She was actu-ally very sweet.

We spoiled her with grapes for about a month until she fi nally gave up her quest to be a mama. Truthfully, I was a little sad. I knew what it was like to long for a baby. After having my fi rst child, I had tried for years to have another and it just wasn’t happen-ing. I had given up too. Then, by some miracle, I got pregnant. I wanted that joy for our Broody Hen.

We got a rooster and over the years had several other hens go broody and become mamas. But never our dear Broody Hen.

Last summer we had two hens go broody. One had babies she was car-ing for, and the second hen was due to hatch an egg or two soon. We had also invested in an incubator. Inside sat 11 eggs, preparing to hatch.

Because it’s easier and healthier if a mama hen raises chicks, we had

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planned for the second broody hen to take our incubator babies, along with her own, under her wing.

Then something strange happened. Broody Hen went broody again, for the fi rst time in four years. She sat on the biggest clutch of eggs she could fi nd (yes, she stole other hens’ eggs), growling at everyone. I couldn’t be-lieve she was back at it after all this time, trying to be a mama.

The problem was, she had just gone broody, and the incubator chicks were due to hatch at any minute. Without going through the process of sitting on eggs for a while, it was unlikely she would accept babies that suddenly appeared.

“Maybe we should stick to our plan and give the babies to the second hen,” I said to my husband.

“I think you’re right. But it’s too bad Broody Hen won’t get to be a mama.”

The fi rst incubator egg hatched. While the second hen slept, we snuck one of her eggs out from under her and replaced it with the baby. She would wake up, think her egg hatched and adopt the baby.

In the morning, I checked on the mama and new baby. The tiny chick was out of the nest, crying. The mama had rejected it.

“We should give her one more chance,” Ron said.

“I don’t know. I heard if they reject the baby, they reject it,” I said. Still, we decided to try again, placing the incubator chick back with the mama.

An hour later I returned. The baby was dead. Not only did we lose that beautiful chick, we weren’t going to have a mama for our incubator hatch. Unless…

Unless Broody Hen could do it. Soon, all of the babies had hatched

in the incubator. That night, we put them in a basket and carried them to our garage, where we had Broody Hen nesting in a crate. I was scared. What if we lost more chicks to rejection?

One by one, we took an egg from un-der Broody Hen and replaced it with a little bundle of cheeping fl uff . Broody Hen stirred but didn’t fully wake. All we could do was pray that our plan would work.

The next morning, I got up very ear-ly and hurried to the garage. If there were any signs of rejection, I would pull the babies and raise them myself.

There was Broody Hen, with babies hopping all over her, cooing and purr-ing in utter contentment. She looked so proud. At last her miracle had hap-pened, just as mine had.

Every one of those chicks grew up happy and healthy, thanks to Broody Hen—our little hen who fi nally got to be the mama she was meant to be.

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a new perspectiveHe’d struggled with depression and anger for most of his life.

Then he learned to see the world in a different light By Matt Stevens, Honolulu, Hawaii

I glanced over at the passenger seat. My 17-year-old daughter, Emma, was on her phone again. “I drive

you to school every morning, and ev-ery morning you ignore me,” I said. “Can’t you put down that phone and talk to me?”

Emma shrugged. “About what, Dad?”

“I don’t know. Your life?”“Why would I tell you about my life?

You’ll just get mad at me, like you al-ways do.”

“I shouldn’t get upset when I see you making poor choices?” I said, my voice rising. “I only want the best for you. You should be grateful!” I pulled up to her school. Emma got out and slammed the door without saying goodbye.

When I got home, my wife, Sandi, took one look at my face and said, “You fought with Emma again.”

“She’s infuriating,” I said.“She’s a teenager.”“She gets under my skin.”Sandi sighed. “Everything seems

to get under your skin, Matt. It’s not normal to be angry all the time. It’s not healthy.”

It wasn’t the fi rst time Sandi had brought up my anger issues. I had to admit, lately I’d been overreacting to every little problem.

I’d struggled with anger and neg-ativity since I was a kid. I grew up in South Florida, the youngest of six

boys. I spent my childhood trying to keep up with my brothers, and I al-ways felt as if I was an afterthought, the last one picked for the team. Being an artist made me diff erent, and awk-ward around others. Even at church, my connection to God seemed so dif-ferent than other people’s. Was there a way to connect to God in my everyday and not just in a building on Sunday?

After high school, I got a degree in art and landed a job at an ad agency, designing logos and doing other com-mercial work. I was good at it and did well, but you know how some people look on the bright side? I couldn’t help looking on the dark side, bracing my-self for troubles I was sure would arise.

I was amazed when something—someone—wonderful came along. At 25, I met Sandi. She was born and raised in Hawaii and was working as a fl ight attendant. Miami was one of her airline’s hubs. Sandi and I clicked, so well that she canceled her request for a transfer to the West Coast to be closer to Oahu.

We married in 1992. Emma was born the next year. Two sons followed. For a time, having a family of my own helped me see the good things in life, but the stress of providing for them fi nally got to me. The graphic arts fi eld was changing rapidly as soft-

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Matt says that focusing on this hidden world has brought him peace and closer to God.

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ware made things more automated. I developed fi bromyalgia-like pain and digestive problems. I went to the doctor and detailed my symptoms. He said, “Have you ever thought about taking an antidepressant?”

How dare he suggest that my illness was in my head! My problems weren’t emotional; they were physical.

One day at work my fi ngers hurt so much I couldn’t even move my com-puter mouse. I went home feeling lower than ever.

I couldn’t work for a whole year. I saw diff erent doctors. The only one who seemed to have any answers was an alternative medicine doctor. He linked my diet of processed foods to leaky gut syndrome, which he said can cause all sorts of symptoms, in-cluding depression and anxiety. He put me on vitamins and a strict, bland diet, which helped lessen the pain in my hands. Maybe I am depressed, I thought, and the emotional pain is causing the physical pain.

BY THE TIME I WAS ABLE to return to work, the graphic arts field had changed even more. My old boss gave me some freelance assignments, but I couldn’t get enough other work to pay the bills. If I’d been more posi-tive, I would have been motivated to fi gure out how to remain relevant in my fi eld. Instead, I felt defeated.

Some days it took all my energy to get out of bed. During my darkest mo-ments, I wondered, What is the point of living like this? I can’t even support my family. I’m a failure. We had to take

out a home equity loan or we wouldn’t have stayed afl oat. To make myself useful, I took over tasks like driving Emma to school.

If the blowup we had that morning was any indication, I was failing at that job too. Sandi was right. My an-ger wasn’t healthy for me. Or for my family. I had to fi nd an outlet, some way out of this cycle of negativity.

Not long after, a friend showed me his macro lens, which he clipped on his smartphone to take extremely close-up photographs. His photos made very small subjects look larger than life. I was captivated. I ordered a macro lens as a birthday gift to myself.

As soon as it arrived, I attached it to my phone and headed out into the yard. I spotted a tiny iridescent fl y on the wall. Through my new lens, I could see how its eyes and body seemed to change color, depending on the an-gle of light. Beautiful. I crouched in the grass and took what seemed like hundreds of pictures of that fl y.

Every morning after I dropped off Emma at school, I went out in the yard and looked for something interest-ing to photograph. Some insects fl ew away as soon as I got near them, so I trained myself to be still.

I spent hours kneeling in the grass with my phone. I would slow my breathing and relax my body. Any-thing that was bothering me would fade away. Looking through my macro lens was like getting a glimpse into an

Watching creatures up close, Matt sometimes wonders, “Has life been hard for them too?”

36 GUIDEPOSTS.ORG

awe-inspiring hidden world. Amaz-ing things that I had walked past my whole life without noticing. I’d cap-ture the morning dew on a leaf, a spi-der spinning a web, a bumblebee on a fl ower. Focusing my energy—and lens—on something so small brought me the most peace I’d ever felt.

It was also the closest to God I’d ever felt. Where I used to see just an insect, now I saw a beautiful living being. If God created that bug so intentionally, he must have created me for a specifi c purpose, and he would help me fi nd it.

I posted my photos on Instagram. People liked and commented on them. Some asked me for advice about pho-tography. It felt good to teach them how to do something I loved. I was sort of a macro guru and even shared Bible verses that seemed to align with the images. Was God speaking through his tiniest creations? I had found my church outside the building.

Macrophotography became my outlet. Whenever I got into an argu-ment with Emma or felt stressed out, I’d grab my phone and fi nd something to shoot. One time, I came across a baby lizard sitting on a plumeria bush. He had a scar across his eye. Has your life been hard? I asked. Mine has.

My photography techniques fi ltered into other parts of my life. One day when Emma ignored me, I took deep breaths. Then I calmly explained why her behavior bothered me. “We’re so much alike that our relationship gets complicated,” I said. “We have a lot of the same struggles.”

Emma nodded. “Life is hard.”I told her how photography was

helping me with my depression, es-pecially the anger that came with it. It was the most open conversation we’d had in a long time.

It has been 10 years since I discov-ered macrophotography. Our family has gone through some big changes. We moved to Hawaii in 2014 so Sandi could be closer to her family. I was of-fered a job teaching art in an elemen-tary school. I love it. Hawaii doesn’t have as many bugs as Florida, but it does have an abundance of natural wonders to photograph.

As you can probably tell, I’ve made peace with depression. I can face those darker days now. I can feel my anger or sadness, then fi nd a way out of it. It takes light and shadows to make an interesting photograph. I think the same is true of life.

One Father’s Day, Emma gave me a book she’d put together of my pho-tographs with verses from the Bible as captions. Macrophotography has turned out to be an even greater gift from God than I thought.

Follow Matt on Instagram @macro.matt.

Matt using a macro lens on his phone


Their Mysterious WaysTHE CASSEROLE WAS IN THE OVEN. Our fi ve young children were running around the kitchen. They’d been cooped up in the house all day. My husband, Eric, knew I needed a break.

“Mom called a little earlier and said her washing machine quit working,” Eric said. His mother lived not far from us. “I’m going to go over to take a look at it. The kids can come with me. How long before dinner?”

“Maybe an hour,” I said. Before he and the kids had their coats on, I was already

upstairs, crawling into bed. I set the timer on my phone and reached for a new book I’d bought. I’d been dying to read it for weeks. Now I would fi nally have time to my-self while the casserole cooked.

Ten minutes later, I heard a familiar jingle coming from downstairs. Does it have to be now, Piper? I thought, a little annoyed. We had trained our dog, a Pomeranian, to ring a bell by the front door whenever she needed to go outside. She probably just saw a squirrel, I decided. I ignored it. Then, a few minutes later, I heard the jingle again. “Okay, okay, Piper,” I said. “I’m coming!”

What’s that smell? I wondered as I made my way down the stairs. Is something burning?

As I neared the bottom step, Piper was nowhere to be found. But I did hear a loud snapping sound. I ran into the kitchen. Sparks were fl ying inside the oven. Smoke was seeping out around its door.

I turned off the oven and reached for the phone to call the fi re department. Just then, Eric walked into the kitchen with the kids.

“It was a quick fi x,” Eric said, laying his keys on the coun-ter. He looked puzzled. “What’s with all the smoke in here?”

“Something’s wrong with the oven,” I said. Grabbing a fl ashlight, Eric opened the oven door and

discovered that a piece of food had fallen on the heating coil. It had cooked onto the coil and burned a hole through it.

“It’s a good thing you turned the oven off when you did,” Eric said. “This could have caused a fi re.”

“You can thank Piper,” I replied. “I never would have come down here if she hadn’t been ringing her bell.”

“Honey,” Eric said. “Piper was with us the whole time.” —Diane Stark, Contributing Editor

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helping America’s animals

LINDA MERRYMAN Pony Patrol, Assateague Island

Meet volunteers around the country who are making life better for creatures big and small

By Peggy Frezon, Contributing Editor

Who she is Linda Merryman is one of the Assateague Pony Patrol volunteers watching over the wild ponies on Assateague Island. The landmass, which is off the eastern coast of the Delmarva Peninsula and spans parts of Maryland and Virginia, is home to more than 300 feral horses—descen dants of domestic horses that have reverted to a wild state. These ponies have inhabited the beaches, the for est and the marshy grounds since the 1600s. Today the island is also a popular camping ground and vaca tion spot, which means there’s a need to manage in-teractions be tween visitors and wild animals. That’s where Linda comes in. “I pro tect the horses from the people and the people from the horses,” she explains.

What she does The horses are beautiful. And tough—they have to be to survive on the windswept barrier island.

Feeding and petting them can be danger ous to both people and horses. Linda reminds visitors not to get too close to the horses; posted signs instruct folks to stay at least 40 feet away. “We want people to know about the wild horses, but also to understand that they are wild.”

Why she does it Linda, who owns a fl ower shop, is a nature lover and takes every opportunity to be around animals. One day a friend told her about the Pony Patrol, and Linda thought she’d enjoy volunteering. The hors-es inspired her. “The pure power of them!” she says. She describes a huge stallion she once saw cooling off in the ocean as “so gorgeous, he took my breath away.” Working with the Pony Patrol lets Linda be in her element. “Being on the island with these magnifi cent creatures is my release; it brings me peace.”

How she does it Once a week Linda reports to the ranger station on the island and picks Linda is in her element on Assateague Island.

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up her refl ective vest and radio. She patrols her route in a golf cart. Much of the time is spent prompt-ing the horses to move away from roads and campsites. “I get out of the cart and make a fool of my-self. I shout, clap, blow a whistle,” she says. Some volunteers shake a container of stones or use a wa-ter squirter.

Just in case the horses decide to charge, Linda always plans an es-cape route, “behind a tree, behind a car, behind my golf cart.” Once, though, a horse ended up poking his head into the cart, looking for her lunch. The horses will eat just about anything: “potato chips, macaro-ni, hot dogs.” Sometimes they’ll run from campsite to campsite, ran-sacking picnic supplies. Linda tries to run ahead of them, instructing

people to put away their food. “I catch people walking right up and feeding the horses,” she says, recalling one man who was bitten by a horse. “Do you suppose he was 40 feet away?”

How you can do it tooIf you’re interested in volunteer-ing for the Assateague Pony Patrol, you can fi nd out more about the job and who to contact at nps.gov/asis/getinvolved/volunteer.htm. Vol unteers should have good people skills and be physically fi t and willing to undergo training. It’s not all shouting and scolding, Linda says. “In the spring, I usually fi nd a mare with a newborn foal, and I get to watch over them all day to make sure they’re not disturbed. It’s amazing.”

As she makes her rounds on the barrier island, Linda protects the horses as well as the people.


Creature ComfortsI HAD LIVED IN AND AROUND SYDNEY, Australia, for the majority of my life and had never been out on the ocean until that April day. It’s not that I was afraid of the water, though I never learned to swim well. My life just took me in another direction: up.

I discovered hot-air ballooning at age 32. Something new, thrilling. Floating through the skies, I could see the beauty of God’s creation from a diff erent perspective. By my forties, I was established in the ballooning community. Maybe I needed a new adventure. When my friend Shawn invited me to go marlin fi shing, I said yes, intrigued.

It took some time to get used to the motion of the boat—something a balloon doesn’t have as it glides on the wind. Just as I found my footing, the sea grew rough. The skipper cut back on the engine. We bobbed to the left. Out of no-where, a massive wave crashed over us, fl ipping the boat. The next thing I knew, I was in the swirling water, gasp-ing for air. I thought of my two sons and prayed as I have never prayed in my life.

I’d experienced emergencies in my ballooning career—a shift in wind that forced me into a forest, a burner failing to ignite, a night spent in the desert. But I had the training to deal with those. This, I couldn’t control.

“Kick your legs!” Shawn yelled. Kicking as hard as I could, I broke the surface. I felt something warm seeping from above my left ear. A gash. Shawn swam to me. Even with his help, I could barely keep my head above water. A rip current pulled us farther out to sea. What if sharks smelled the blood from my wound? Moments later, I saw fi ns slicing through the waves. This is the end, I thought.

The creatures leapt out of the water. Dolphins! A whole pod circled us, causing a scene that alerted rescuers to our loca-tion. Everyone on the boat survived.

The next time I looked out at the swirling sea, it was from above, in a new ocean-blue balloon, emblazoned with six golden dolphins, God’s creation protecting me wherever I go.

—Ruth E. WilsonSydney, AustraliaC

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WHAT IS THAT SOUND? I heard it as soon as I pulled into our driveway that autumn after-noon. Some kind of wailing. I’m a civil rights lawyer, and I’d been away for four days on business. My clients and their families de-pended on me for their livelihoods. If I wasn’t researching cases or writing briefs, I was meeting with clients or other attorneys. My brain was constantly in work mode. But now I couldn’t think of anything except that wailing.

My wife, Robin, and I had moved into my grandmother’s old house in northeast Texas 11 months earlier. I’d lived in San Francisco and Washington, DC, for more than 20 years, but I’d felt called to return to my rural roots, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. Readjusting to small-town life was hard. Robin, a fi nancial consultant, and I were still so busy that we barely had time to say hello as we passed each other at the airport.

I followed the sound to the old barn out back. The wailing intensifi ed. I saw a fl ash under a bunch of boards. I carefully pulled up one and found a gray-and-white kitten, mewing loudly. I guess I’m rescuing a kitten today, I thought, scooping her up in my arms.

“Hello,” I said. “You’re a big squeaker, huh?” I took Squeaky inside and called my cousin

Jordan, an animal rescuer. “What do I do?”She told me to warm a towel in the dryer

for the kitten to sleep on. “Make sure you get kitten formula too.”

how I met my pet

First encounters with our faithful friends


Once Squeaky was settled and fed, I took my two dogs, a black Lab mix and a Great Pyrenees, for their walk. We got to the end of the driveway. Then, for some reason, I chose a diff erent route than usual and headed to a pasture down the road. The dogs sniff ed the unfamiliar surroundings. I heard a rustling in the long grass. No, it can’t be. A dirty, reddish retriever-like puppy came bounding out.

There had been a pregnant stray in the area. Was this one of her babies? I looked down at the puppy. It was the end of October, sure to get quite cold that night. “I can’t leave you in the road, can I?” I said, tucking the puppy in the front pocket of my sweatshirt. I didn’t even question whether or not to keep him. Albert, that’s a nice name.

Back at the house, I paused at the front door. How would the puppy get along with the kit-ten? I called Jordan again. She’s never going to believe this.

“Should I keep Squeaky and Albert apart?” I asked. “I don’t want them fi ghting.”

“No,” she said. “I think they can help each other.”

Albert climbed up on the couch. I set Squeaky down near him. Albert started to nose around. Please let them get along, I prayed. Then Squeaky curled against Albert’s back, and they snuggled into each other. They were like found family. And me? I was lucky enough to be their dad. I sat down and watched them sleep, nestled together. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stopped working long enough to ap-preciate something so simple and wonderful.

Slow down, God seemed to say. Take in the blessings around you. Now I knew what I’d come back to Texas for.

—Shannon Minter, Winnsboro, Texas

Found family: Shannon, Squeaky and Albert at home

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By the late 1970s, the rivers in England and Wales were so pol-luted with pesticides that the

otter population was on the brink of extinction. In 1980 a journalist fol-lowing the troubling decline noticed an eighteenth-century mill outside her friend actress Daphne Neville’s home. She proposed an idea: raise an otter in the mill’s clean water to publicize the pollution problem and convince legislators to protect the rivers. “And that is what we set out to do,” Daphne says.

First stop: Gatwick Zoo, where Daphne’s middle daughter, Perry, bought an otter with her birthday money. (Today, otters are no longer bred for sale.) The Nevilles built an outdoor enclosure with a clean stream

Is This for Real?British actress Daphne Neville’s longest-running role:

otter conservationistBy Alina Larson, Contributing Editor

running through it, as well as an indoor compound for Bee, who was named for her honey scent. To get her used to people, the family took turns sitting with her and handling her. “At times that proved rather painful!” laughs Daphne, recalling the nips they would get from Bee’s sharp teeth.

Word got around that the actress was raising an otter. Bee’s photo ap-peared in a local newspaper. Invita-tions to schools fl ooded in, and Perry appeared on local television with her unusual pet. Eventually Daphne and Bee were invited to Parliament, along with naturalist and broadcaster Sir David Attenborough, to explain the plight of the rivers and otters.

Bee’s fame continued to grow when the Nevilles published Bee, a Particular

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From the moment Daphne heard about the otters’ plight with pollution, she stepped in to help.

Otter, about their otter adventures. “People imagine it would be fun to keep an otter as a household pet,” Daphne’s daughter Sophie says. “They’re able to open the fridge door and create havoc digging in your potted plants. After swimming in the loo [toilet] they enjoy drying off by rolling on clean laundry or the beds. Besides, they’re carnivores that need fresh fi sh and day-old chicks twice a day, which is quite a commitment.”

The story of Bee captivated ev-eryone, including the Royal Family. Before she knew it, Princes William and Harry were standing in Daphne’s bathroom, watching Bee swim around in the tub. “William wanted to get in with her!” Daphne laughs.

The Nevilles’ tenacity—and Bee’s popularity—paid off . Celebrity visits, TV cameos, public appearances and a partnership with the Royal Society for Nature Conservation helped lead to the passing of the Water Resources Act in 1991, regulating water quality and outlawing water pollution.

By 2011, otters had returned to ev-ery county in England. That didn’t end Daphne’s conservation eff orts, though. She has continued to hand-raise rescued otters (she’s had 10 over the years) and to speak out on main-taining clean waterways.

What’s the 82-year-old retired ac-tress’s latest campaign for wildlife? Encouraging drivers to use an Animal Alert on their cars. The device emits a high-frequency whistle, which warns dogs, rabbits, otters and other crea-tures who may be crossing the road. She still gives presentations, now ac-companied by the 14-year-old otter Rudi. Ever since he was abandoned by his mother at three weeks old, his fa-vorite perch has been Daphne’s shoul-der. “We have a very strong bond,” Daphne says. “I’m like his mum.” We don’t doubt it. Daphne has been protecting and providing for these animals for decades without a second thought—that’s what mothers do.

For more, visit daphneneville.com/otters. SWN

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By Peggy FrezonContributing Editor

We feed them.We try to provide our pets the best- quality food we can aff ord. We keep the water bowl full, especially on a hot summer day. We heft 50-pound bags of kibble through crowded stores. We scoop out cat food with our good soupspoon. We hope the pet food really does have “new and improved fl avor.” We might even prepare homemade meals and bake special treats. A meat-and-veggie birthday cake? You bet!

We teach them. Sit. Stay. Come! We want our pets to behave, learn and be rewarded. So

we bring our dogs to obedience school, even when they embarrass us by barking and biting their leash. We are proud when they earn their Canine Good Citizen certifi -cation. We house-train. We high-fi ve. We show our friends that our cats actually can play fetch. We share vid-eos of our birds talking to us. And we continue to teach them when new opportunities arise.

We clean. We give them baths, though it means we end up soaked ourselves. We trim their nails without hurt-ing them. We brush their teeth—no

Taking care of an animal is not the same as taking care of a child. Still, having a pet requires many of the same responsibilities. That animal is part of your family, depends on you and yearns for you to love it unconditionally. Here’s why all of us with pets in our lives can be called parents too.

Caring for a furry loved one goes far beyond

fi lling the food bowl

here’s to pet

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Ernest is a cherished member of the family. and chocolate and dangerous toys. We worry that they’re lonely and whether or not we should get them a playmate (whom we’ll worry about just as much).

We grieve.When the time comes to say good-bye, it’s hard. It’s so hard. There is no right way or wrong way to go through it. We may light a candle. Make a memorial. Scatter their ashes. Plant a tree. We miss them wholeheartedly.

We love.There is no time like the good times spent with a pet. We run, we play, we laugh. We snuggle with our dogs. We hold our hamsters and rub be-tween their tiny ears. We stroke our purring cats. We pray for our pets. We share our secrets with them. Sometimes we cry into their fur. We welcome that slobbery kiss. Oh, how we love our furry family!

Happy Mother’s Day and happy Father’s Day to pet parents every-where.

easy feat—because we don’t want them to end up with dental prob-lems or bad breath. We brush (and brush and brush) their coat. We get pet hair all over our clothes. We sweep up piles of fur, wipe muddy paws, empty litter boxes and clean tanks. We want them to smell good, feel good and live long.

We forgive. The puppy chews your slippers. The cat knocks your favorite vase off the table. They whine. They scratch. They jump. They dig. Pets aren’t perfect. But our love for them is. So we hug them and forgive them. We try to show them what’s right. And we put the slippers up on top of the dresser.

We comfort. We sit on the fl oor and hold them through thunderstorms. We care-fully pull thorns from their paws and burrs from their fur, and tear up because they trust us to do so. We wait up all night to get that call from the vet that they’re okay.

We worry.When the dog gets into the trash and eats the food scraps…we worry. When the kitty seems lethargic…we worry. When we can’t get home right after work or leave them at a kennel or with a pet sitter…we worry. We worry about vaccinations and ticks, bullies at the dog park, bones

PEGGY FREZON is the author of The Dog in the Dentist Chair: And Other True Stories of Animals Who Help, Comfort, and Love Kids. She and her husband rescue senior golden retrievers and are therapy dog handlers. Connect with Peggy at peggyfrezon.com and on Facebook at facebook.com/peggyfrezonbooks.

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2020-05-01 All Creatures