Rescuing Animals Before the Lockdown

Rescuing Animals Before the Lockdown

Meredith Stephens

“Did you hear the ad on the TV asking for people to adopt animals from the RSPCA animal shelter? Apparently they need to find homes for these animals before lockdown,” my daughter Hannah tells me pleadingly.

Just the incentive I need. I look on the RSPCA website and click on photos of doggies with winning smiles posing for the camera. I decided to follow the RSPCA on social media and then secure the one booking that is left for Saturday. My husband Rick would probably prefer a cat to a dog, so I booked a cat viewing. I hesitate though because the cats might pounce on the family of orange­bellied parrots who perch on our balcony every morning. They might even maul my Laura Ashley sofas.

We arrive at the RSPCA shelter and cannot find a park. Many others have responded to the appeal to adopt. I eventually spot a space and squeeze into the slot. As I exit my car I see a pair of Jack Russells being escorted by a couple of volunteers. Each of the doggies comes up to greet me as if we are old friends, dragging the leads out of the volunteers’ hands. I tell the volunteers I want them, but they tell me that they have just been adopted, as they usher them into a smart car with their new owner.

We arrive at the cat reception and are directed to hand sanitizer. Families and couples are waiting at the entrance, each group imposing a couple of metres distance between them and the next group. We gain entry and are directed to the cat cages. By now there are only four cats left. Prospective adopters surround two of the cages, so we are ushered to the aviary at the rear, where the sick cats are kept. One is called Harvey. I enter the aviary to stroke him, but he only lets me touch him on his forehead. The volunteers are keen to find a home for Harvey. Apparently he has just had some teeth removed, so he is a bit irritable.

“Normally we would not ask people to adopt sick cats, but we are worried about Stage 3 of the lockdown. Animal shelters are not regarded as an essential service, so we want to find homes for them while we can. Harvey is still sick, but we will give you a course of antibiotics to treat him with,” the volunteer informs me.

I tell him that we adopted dogs from the shelter a few years ago, and explain that one has passed away and the other is ageing gracefully.

“I didn’t train the elderly one using conventional methods,” I explain. “I use ESP. She always wants to know what you want her to do.”

He looks bemused at this unorthodox method of dog training. Meanwhile, Rick doesn’t look so enthusiastic about adopting the flailing Harvey, so we make our excuses and wander over to the dog section. Even though we haven’t made a booking, one of the volunteers happily accepts our enquiry. She directs us to a board with information about the dogs which are available for adoption. There is a poster for each dog featuring a photo and a description. They have stuck on a red sticker for dogs who cannot be kept with other dogs, and green stickers for dogs with special needs. All of the posters but two have stickers on them saying ‘adopted’. These remaining two dogs have both a red and a green sticker. We can’t adopt either of them because of our ageing doggie, who also originally came from the shelter.

Tia is Stephanie's gracefully aging labrador

Other couples and families sit outside the dog reception, at distances of even more than the regulation 1.5 metres. They want to do the right thing by the dogs and by each other.

“It’s bad that there are no dogs left for us, but it’s good for the dogs that they have found homes,” I tell the volunteer.

She smiles and agrees.

We have come all this way to rescue a cat or a dog, but have come away with nothing. We arrive home, and an hour later Hannah arrives home from her seven hour shift at the supermarket.

“Did you get a cat?” Hannah asks hopefully.

“There is a sorry soul called Harvey who is still undergoing medical treatment, but Dad doesn’t want to adopt a sick cat.”

“I wish I had come with you. I want to adopt the last ones left that no­one wants,” she informs me.

This surprises me, but I am secretly proud of her for saying this. We should have taken Hannah with us to the RSPCA, and then we could have saved Harvey. Meanwhile, if she can manage to twist Rick’s arm, there might still be time.

Meredith Stephens is an English teacher in Japan, currently living in Australia. Her work has appeared in Transnational Literature, The Font ­ A Literary Journal for Language Teachers, The Journal of Literature in Language Teaching, and in auto­ethnographic edited volumes of expatriate motherhood in What's Cooking Mom? Narratives about Food and Family, The Migrant Maternal: "Birthing" New Lives Abroad, and Twenty­First Century Friendship, all published by Demeter Press, Canada.