Bonded For Life

Corinne Lamata, Executive Director

When I was thirteen, my brother sent home a precious gift from Vietnam, where he was serving as a helicopter medic in the army: a black and white Basenji-mix dog named Spooky. He had found the dog as an abandoned newborn on a roadside and bottle fed the tiny orphan until he was a strong pup. When Spooky got bigger, he would watch my brother’s helicopter take off every morning, and he would meet him in the same spot at the end of each day when the aircraft returned from its daily mission. Fearing for Spooky’s safety, my brother made arrangements for him to travel to San Leandro, where my parents and I welcomed the frightened dog at SFO. 

The drive home from the airport fascinated our new friend—the sights and sounds were all new and scary. When we finally arrived home and drove into our garage, Spooky would not get out of the car. No amount of food offerings would coax him. Finally, my mother had an idea: she got a pair of my brother’s pants that were in storage and held them on the edge of the back seat, just inside the open car door. My brother’s scent was still on those pants—made obvious by Spooky’s whimpering and frenetically wagging tail as he followed the clothing out of the car. 






The next few weeks were a lesson to me about the human-animal bond. Spooky adjusted pretty well to his new home—we loved him so much—but whenever a helicopter would fly overhead, he would sit in the backyard and look up, as if he expected it to land and to see my brother emerge—something that had happened every day of his former life in Vietnam. When my brother finally came home from the war, it was a wildly happy and emotional reunion. Their strong bond remained intact, despite their lengthy separation. Spooky lived out his days as a cherished member of our family who was saved from certain death by a very young man that had witnessed so much of it during his service overseas. 

"Hachiko"

I was reminded of Spooky when I saw a movie recently that was based on the true story of Hachiko, the dog in Japan in the 1920s who would wait every afternoon at a train station for his person, a college professor, to come back from work so they could walk home together. One day the professor did not return—he had suffered a fatal cerebral hemorrhage at work. But Hachiko returned to the train station every afternoon at the same time for nearly ten more years, until his death, waiting for the professor to come home. 



Cats display very strong connections to their people, too. There are many stories of felines that have walked thousands of miles, presumably following their instincts, to be reunited with loved ones. There have even been reports of cats jumping on the backs of people trying to attack one of their family members, severely clawing and biting the attacker until they flee. My own cats, Butch and Cassidy, respond to my feeling sad or emotional by sitting on my lap or rubbing against my legs, seemingly trying to comfort me. 

The human-animal bond is powerful and complex. Our pets add joy, purpose, and pleasure to our lives in a way that is difficult to put into words. They often are the reason we get up in the morning when we’re feeling low. They get us moving, and they get us talking to other people—about them. Our relationships with our pets are deep, strong, and full of love. 

In 2013, Berkeley Humane brought pets and adopters together 938 times—a record number, and 105 more times than in 2012. (Included are photos of just a few of those happy adoptions.) I am so fortunate to work with folks who use their skills and talents every day to help homeless pets bond with loving and committed adopters, and whose primary motivation is the fulfillment of saving and improving lives through those new relationships. Our amazing staff shares their achievement with all of you, our volunteers, supporters, and friends. We are grateful for your loyalty and partnership as we begin a new year and look forward to helping more of our human and animal friends form loving and loyal bonds in 2014 that will last a lifetime. 

Thank you, friends. 

Corinne

Shared Success

Caring and finding well-matched adopters for homeless animals is rewarding and sometimes difficult. I have the utmost respect and admiration for my co-workers who are on the front lines of carrying out that mission. Every day they work hard to improve the lives of cats and dogs that, at best, have been surrendered to a shelter because their guardians can no longer care for them. Sometimes the situation is much worse, and our staff is faced with the harsh reality of what humans inflict on these vulnerable creatures.

But the effort pays off when a perfect match is made and an animal leaves for a better life with a loving and committed person or family. We all experience the joy and satisfaction of knowing that another deserving animal has found a good home—there is no better feeling. I am extremely proud to say that we will likely achieve at least 820 adoptions this year, an all-time high. (Prior to this, the most animals we had found homes for was 801 in 2009 when we had 80 percent more space and 25 percent more staff—before the 2010 fire.)

We have learned to be more efficient out of necessity, which has no doubt contributed to our ability to help so many animals this year. But there is another important reason for our success: you.

Because of the support we get from donors and volunteers, we have been able to help more animals this year than ever before.  From people who tirelessly walk dogs, socialize cats, provide foster care, clean, and help with administrative work, to those who send us $1 in the mail or donate much greater amounts, you all contribute to our capacity to serve animals in our community, and to do it well.

The truth is, we would not exist without your partnership. It is hard to express in words how much it means to us and to the animals—to say that we are deeply grateful seems somehow inadequate. But every time an animal in need leaves here healthy, happy, and headed for a new home, we share that success with you.

We look forward to many more shared successes for homeless animals in 2013. From all of us at the Berkeley-East Bay Humane Society to all of you, thank you, friends.

For the animals,

Corinne

I got a refresher course this week in what's important. The debacle of the Chase Community Giving program--Chase mistakenly posted on our voting page that BEBHS was a "$10K Recipient"--was a big disappointment. We SO could have used $10,000. I felt really sad for our animals when I found out about the "technical error" that caused the incorrect post. But I was reminded today by a friend, volunteer, and supporter that BEBHS is still a big winner.

We win because we are supported by the best community ever.
We win because we know the reward of introducing precious pets to their new families.
We win because we are valued for the important work we do.

The list of reasons why we win is virtually endless. And my personal win is that I no longer feel sad, frustrated, and angry. Instead, I was reminded that relationships--between people and pets, between our community and us--are what truly matter.

The impersonal email we received from Chase telling us that we would not receive any grant money seemed strangely unprofessional for such a large, presumably polished organization. I have a feeling they're not feeling like winners today, given the feedback I've seen on their Facebook page from other nonprofits that had the same experience yesterday as we did.

But I don't feel sorry for Chase. And I don't feel sorry for us. Instead, I have a renewed love for where I work and for the community in which I live. We did not lose anything yesterday.

WE WIN.

VOTE FOR BEBHS ANIMALS

Vote here for BEBHS in the Chase Community Giving Program.

In this season of endless requests to vote for countless candidates and causes, why would we ask you to vote for us? Because Chase Community Giving will distribute $5 million between 196 nonprofits, and we could use any amount of that to help us continue our work to save and improve lives and send cats and dogs home with the very best adopters. 

We would purchase:

• needed surgical equipment and medicine for sick and injured animals and for spay/neuter surgeries
• food and enrichment supplies for our shelter animals, and for the pets of seriously ill or low-income community members that need help to avoid pet surrender
• items to help comfort and reduce stress for our cats and kittens in foster homes
• supplies and equipment to improve efficiency of care in our current, very condensed space until we can rebuild our fire-damaged shelter

The heart and soul of BEBHS is in the people who come to work here every day for the animals, the volunteers who serve alongside them, the visitors who arrive in hopes of finding a new family member, and the community--near and far--that supports our services and programs. We rely on this grassroots support to continue our work and mission.

Please help us get a chance to do even more for homeless animals by voting for BEBHS in the Chase Community Giving Program. And please share this link with your friends.

With many thanks, for the animals,

Corinne

Wishes

Ted

Latrice Royale

Trinket

The Road to Rebuild

Since starting my job as Executive Director in early May, I've had the chance to talk to people who have supported BEBHS for a long time. They've offered constructive criticism and helpful advice, and they've been frank in sharing their concerns around our ability to rebuild.

I completely understand their common question: "Why, after two years, hasn't BEBHS been able to build a new shelter?" The answer relies heavily on the long-term effect of that fateful day two years ago.

The fire that killed 15 cats and destroyed our shelter in May 2010 was obviously debilitating. Staff and the Board came together immediately for the survival of BEBHS, and the community responded with an outpouring of monetary and in-kind donations and volunteerism.

In the weeks and months that followed, we learned a great deal about the complexities of recovering from such a tragedy. Normal operations were severely disrupted. We had to relocate our administrative staff and recover what we could from our damaged upstairs offices--there was significant loss of data and equipment. 

Loss of our shelter meant a severe reduction in space for animals. Our adoptions staff and veterinary team had to crowd into what was formerly our hospital--the only space in our building that was not damaged by the fire. Foster care for our dogs and cats was quickly organized, and adoptions soon resumed.

We had insurance, of course, and assumed our insurance company would swiftly pay our claims in full, considering we were a small animal shelter that had suffered such an horrific event. But we were naive--the process of getting the full insurance payout continues.

Tasks that were once part of our daily routine became arduous and expensive. For example, our industrial washer and dryer were destroyed. Now, we must rely on industrial laundry service for the clean bedding and towels that are essential to the health of our animals. The service costs about $700 a month. 

We've had a great deal of staff turnover in the last two years, no doubt due to a variety of reasons. But I believe the pressure of working in a confined space with co-workers and animals takes a toll on our staff--the normal stress of their jobs is compounded by this post-fire environment. 

The necessary focus on keeping our core services running turned our attention away from a key function: fundraising. In fact, we received many generous donations immediately after the fire that were restricted for our rebuild effort--those funds cannot be used for normal operations. And we continue to receive support from our community that is absolutely essential to our survival. But we need to do a better job of reaching out to our loyal supporters, and engaging new supporters, to ensure we get the help we need until our new facility is built, and to ensure we have the capital funding for our new building.

The great news is that we are finally at the point of starting down the road to rebuild. We are in the process of hiring a project manager to keep us on track and help us hire all the experts we'll need for success. The plan is to have a new, state-of-the-art shelter and hospital by early spring 2015. (The cost will be about $3.5 million.) It is an exciting time to be here!

My short time at BEBHS has not been without some hard decisions. The most difficult for me was the decision to suspend our kitten nursery, which provided round-the-clock care for underage kittens. It was an innovative effort but an enormous drain on resources. We will redirect those resources toward preparing the organization for the multi-year effort ahead of us. And we intend to include a dedicated space for the care of bottle-feeding kittens in the design of our new building. In the meantime, we are expanding our foster care program to care for as many neonatal kittens as possible.

Yes, the past two years have been challenging. But I am absolutely thrilled to be at BEBHS to lead us down the road to rebuilding our shelter and hospital. This job is a dream come true for me, and there is no place else I'd rather be. When I come to the shelter/hospital and look into the faces of the animals we serve, I am reminded of the importance of our work, and I know we will succeed. It may seem now like a long time away, but with all there is to do, it will pass quickly. 

The road to rebuild will not be without its rough spots, but with the help of our community, we'll get there. Please take this journey with us. Together, we're going to do this.