The Soul of Sal

Many people often wonder if animals possess a soul.  Those who find themselves in doubt and wonder have never truly looked into the eyes of an animal.  Martin Buber was right when he said, "An animal's eyes have the power to speak a great language"  In the short-time Sal has been HOME I have seen so much in those eyes of his.  I have seen enough pain and hurt in those eyes of his to bring me to my knees.
 
I force myself to read every single post of an Urgent -- Death Row cat so that I never forget what the truth is in the world we live in.  The hateful lack of compassion and responsibility of us as humans that our animals pay the price...with their lives.
 
I am fully aware that I cannot save them all.  As much as my heart screams for these innocent beings sentenced to a fate they do not deserve, I try to be realistic.  I have a young family and responsibilities.  I have a lot of animals at home.  I know what is involved in rescuing an animal.  Emotionally, financially.  I know the time that must be invested and I am well aware my days grow shorter and the needs of so many in my charge grow greater.  I promise myself once I have this baby and I get things once again settled I will become more active in the rescue world as I once was.  I will find a GOOD Organization this time, one that will appreciate me, my effort and respect what I know and what I do well.  One that will use my knowledge and experience to their benefits and not be threatened.
 
When I first saw Sal's picture among the thousands of postings of cats on death row, I was captivated.  Not by his beauty, not by his story and not by the plea to "Please help save this boy" that I have read hundreds of times over on every single posting.  I saw his eyes - beyond the sedation he was under... I saw his eyes and they called out to me.  I had to do something, and I could not let this boy die.  If he died, it was MY failure.  Somehow he chose me.  Fate doesn't always wait for the perfect timing, I know this - but it is our job to answer that knock.
 
When Sal was first brought home his eyes were clouded by anger.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Pure anger.  I don't even think there was room for fear because he was so consumed by this fury - presumably for his treatment over the last -- I don't know HOW many years.  I talked to him gently about nonsense.  Nothing in particular, nothing important.  My goal was simply for him to get used to the sound of my voice and hope that the day would come that he would find comfort in that sound.

Over the next 2 weeks his anger gave way to fear and trepidation.  Sal recognized he was in a new place but he was so very sick I don't think he could really focus on what was going on.  After vet visits, treatments, patience and love from everyone in his new family the last few days have brought both warmth and hope to my heart.  I have mentioned a few times, I believe, of the warmth and compassion of my children.  Rowan, my oldest prefers humans to animals but she loves them all.  I think she just can relate to people better, but she is sure to stop by his crate every day and tell Sal, "I love you".  This morning on her way out the door for school she doubled back and came back in the house because she forgot to tell Sal she loved him.  Olivia, my middle one has a natural gift with animals and they sense that about her.

However what I saw last night both amazed and humbled me.  Animals tend to do that for me.  I am often humbled by the true soul and passion of an animal.   

Yesterday evening I moved Sal into my sunroom.  I felt the 3 walls of windows facing out into the lush greenery of my backyard would be therapeutic.  Sal was yanked from the streets of Brooklyn.  Streets I grew up in for 25 years -- only I had a warm loving home to go to at the end of every day.  I don't know WHAT Sal had or for how long but I knew Sal did not have THIS.  His crate is raised above the floor and he faces the world.  A different world than he is used to, a world where there is peace intertwined with nature.  Where chickens and ducks free range among a colony of barn cats who protect their friends and have no idea of a "food chain".  He sees a world where there is beauty swing sets and the laughter of children.  He can slowly acclimate himself to his new world, a better world.  A world that was always out there -- waiting for him.

As I was cleaning his crate with disinfectant, refreshing his food and water and chatting away through his growls and flat ears, Rowan came to see what was going on.  Whenever I am missing for more than 30 seconds she always tends to come looking for me.  She sat down on the chair next to Sal's crate and began jabbering away, as Rowan (much like her father) tends to do.  She was telling him about the boy in class who sticks his tongue out all the time, and her friend who broke her arm falling from the monkey bars.  She was even telling him about her up coming "Field Day" at school and that she has to wear her own green shirt, because I didn't buy her the field day one.

What I saw next sent my heart into my throat as I bit my lip in an effort to fight back the tears.  Sal was listening intently, ears up and his usual tense body gave way to a more relaxed one...but that wasn't the half of it.  His EYES.  His eyes that were finally wavering between fear and a cautious curiosity I saw peace.  It was almost as though someone waved a magic wand over him and he forgot painful past that he spent so much time in.  A past that bred mistrust, hate and fear of people.   He seemed so happy to listen to her prattle on, and I was all too happy to share the audience.

I think on some level Rowan knew it too, which is why she made sure she said she loved him this morning.  Rowan loves all of her animals, but somehow I like to think she has awakened her on soul by reaching out to Sal and touching his.  It was as though something passed between the two of them last evening.  Will it happen again?  I honestly have no idea.  Do I hope it will?  Of course.  If it doesn't, it wasn't meant to.

But when I looked into the eyes of my cat after Rowan had went to bed, I finally saw something I thought it would take years to accomplish.  I saw a flicker of peace in the eyes of an animal that had none.  As he looked deep into mine I think he finally recognized he was HOME.

We still have a long road ahead.  Sal is no where near where he needs to be, but I am grateful my girls are awakening parts of their own souls and parts of Sal's that were long since forgotten.

Tonight when I came home from work, the peace was gone, the fear returned and I cried.  I cried because I knew peace was in there, peace could be found and he would finally find his peace with us.  I cleaned up his crate again, and I whispered..."enjoy your view Sal.  It will be yours forever." and I believe I saw his tail flick.

Why We Fight

I would like to apologize to everyone for the delay between posts.  Time always seems to get away from me and before I know it - days pass in the blink of an eye.  I juggle a lot of things in my life - but they say busy hands are happy hands.  It is very difficult for me to stand idly by and do nothing.

Let me give you a little background on ME, the kind of person I am.  I am passionate, committed and a fighter.  I always seem to go that extra step which many people won't for the sake of keeping the peace.  That is not me. I will take on anyone, alone.  I am a firm believer in fairness and that people should be held accountable for bad decisions.  I go against the grain and often.  I am called dramatic or a trouble maker, but I am fair, I am stubborn and I am tough.  I don't back down.  Maybe I am wrong for not being the type to conform, the type to hold my ground and the kind of person who holds firm to a belief - even if it is not what everyone else thinks.  Maybe, I live my life the wrong way but one think I will never be is a victim but, like any one else I have bad days that I think about giving in and giving up - but then I remember, anything worth having is worth fighting for.  I am here to defend the defenseless.  That is my purpose in life.  I stand, alone, against the world.

This is true in anything in my life, and this is true for my Sal.  I rescued Sal aware of possible health issues but I wasn't prepared for what I was told when we saw the HVARS clinic on Friday.  Sal was sedated, given fluids, vitamins and steroids.  He was extremely dehydrated and his kidneys were enlarged.  This generally is an indicator of kidney issues, quite possibly kidney failure.  Basically, what his means is there is very little hope of his recovery...or so they say.  I suppose they would have euthanized him there, but I would be damned if I was going to let him die like that.  Alone, in the back of a mobile unit.  If I had no other choice, he would leave this world in my arms, as safe and comfortable as he could possible be, with someone who loved him.

I spent the 45 minute drive home bawling and apologizing to Sal for not being enough for him.  I cried at the injustice of the world.  I cried for all of the animals I have saved and all of those I could not.  I began to bargain with God if he could just spare the one animal who has already suffered so much and realized I had nothing to offer in return.  Not a single thing.

Sal was put in his carrier with his back facing me, even in his groggy state he found the strength to turn himself around to face me.  He stared at me with big green eyes the whole way home.  His eyes seemed softer, less angry.  He even allowed me to rest my hand on the door of the carrier and he put his head down and seemed to pray himself.  We drove home in silence.

We finally got home, I put Sal back in his crate still groggy.  He didn't even hop in his box or his cubby.  He laid between the litter box and his bed box, put his head down and fell asleep.  I sat and watched him sleep terrified he was going to leave me.  I vowed to Sal I was not going to give up on him.  I would not let him die if there was anything at all possible that I could do about it. 

I offered him some more kitten milk and some chicken livers.  He drank the milk, the livers didn't seem quite as appetizing.  (I cant say I disagree)  He was slow, but was up and around a little bit more after seeing the vet and for once I felt a little bit of hope.  I got up the next morning and there was a lot of urine and even some poop in the litter box!  We were making progress and I was sure - whatever was ailing Sal we were going to fight, beat and show the world.

Sadly, Sunday and Monday weren't as successful for us.  He is back to refusing to eat or drink, and his URI has his nose all clogged once again.  We will hopefully be able to get back to another Vet from HVARS on Friday - and perhaps get a long-term antibiotic into his frail body.  The mobile vet did not have on available.  They apparently only have a 15 day shelf life, are very expensive and it becomes wasted if only used on one animal and then usually tossed.

This is not the end of the line for Sal.  Some days the fight is harder, but I will never give it up.  I am human and some days the struggle is just all too much for me to bear but then I am reminded that I have a very special gift - a heart.  I will not forget to use it.