Event raises funds for animals in need of forever homes

Every year thousands of homeless animals are in need of a forever home in mid-Michigan.

Sunday the "Paws in the park" event, hosted by the Capital Area Humane Society, didn't only raise money for a local shelter, but it hoped to raise awareness.

The event had little dogs, big dogs, dogs up for adoption and dogs in costumes who flooded the Cooley Law Stadium for a day of games, endless doggy treats, and a good cause.

Julia Willson, the President & CEO of the Capital Area Humane Society said these events are a fun way to attract dogs and their owners. She said, "This type of event funds our activities, including finding new homes for animals that don't have homes, spay and neuter services and providing a wide range of care for the animals in our community."

And in the community here in mid-Michigan, Willson said she cares for hundreds of animals on any given day at the shelter. She told News 10 this major issue is not just a local one but extends on a much larger scale. "It's really a national problem, I think many communities experience the fact that many animals don't have a home," Willson said.

With a lot of animals living in shelters, owners at the event said they suggest people look at shelters before purchasing their pet from anywhere else.

Marilyn Jackson, a rescued dog owner, got her dog Miles from a family that could no longer care for him. "There are so many loving dogs that are great with family and kids who need homes, and its best sometimes to adopt and not shop," Jackson said.

Sarah Dobbrastine is another dog owner who is also no stranger to having her own rescued dogs, "There are always going to be animals looking for homes."

Dobbrastine has welcomed 10 huskies into her home, all of which she rescued or were given to her from people who know she likes that breed.

She told News 10, "more than half of mine have been abused or abandoned so that's how they came to be, or just people who gave them to me because they knew I dog sledded." She said she loves huskies for their personalities and comforting quality.

Sunday was a walk for animals in need, a walk animals took one paw at a time.

How the Love of a Dog Saved My Life

Two things that have been a part of who I am for as long as I can remember are a love of dogs and a tendency to depression, the first of which can sometimes help to take the sting out of the second. But around the time I turned 30, I went through a period of depression so profound that I could barely function. Spiraling toward oblivion, I made the painful decision to check myself into a psychiatric hospital and to give away my dog, Lou. Though I eventually climbed my way back to health, I remained shaken by the encounter with my own fragility and ashamed that I had fallen to the point where I was unable to take care of not just myself but a dog who depended on me.

After that, the idea of ever getting another dog seemed out of the question. But in the fall of 2012, my significant other, Charlotte, with whom I'd lived for fifteen years, said that she wanted a dog. A few years earlier, we had talked about having a child and, for various reasons, it hadn't worked out. Now, our relationship was going through a difficult time, and in the way some couples look to a baby to save a faltering marriage, Charlotte and I each hoped that adopting a dog would draw us closer. And as soon as she texted me a picture from the North Shore Animal League of a tiny 12-week-old terrier mix—fluffy and white with brown and black markings, a black gum drop of a nose, and giant brown eyes—I instantly texted back: "Bring that dog home! Now!! I think her name is Quincy!"

When Charlotte arrived at our rented cottage on Eastern Long Island, carrying Quincy wrapped in a blanket, I felt a rush of love. As I watched her pad clumsily around the living room—sniffing the skirt of a couch here, mouthing a coffee table leg there—it seemed to me that this could be a new beginning. I vowed to myself that this time I would take good care of my dog. It would be my way of putting things right for abandoning Lou all those years ago.

For a while, Quincy seemed to be a dog designed more for looks than loyalty. (One night, as Quincy was snouting a tennis ball under a table rather than snuggling on the couch with us, Charlotte started crying and said, "I think there's something wrong with her.") But over time, as she saw that we understood and would meet her needs, a powerful bond developed between us and she lavished us with affection—all the sweeter because it felt earned, though she remained an independent little creature who lived and loved on her own peculiar terms.

We soon settled into a routine: Awakened by Quincy's melodic whine—we called it "warbling"—we would take her to the dog run when we were in the city, where we watched her go from a timid puppy cowering by our sides to a fearless scrapper, or to the beach when we were on Long Island, where she developed into a dazzlingly fast runner, obsessed with chasing down tennis balls and various creatures of the land and air. Quincy attracted attention wherever we went—women started smiling at me on the street when I was with her—and passersby routinely stopped to ask what kind of dog she was. I would proudly announce that she was a mutt; Charlotte told people that she was a "Tricolor Snowball," adding, "they're very hard to find."

I was besotted, and my Instagram feed became all-Quincy, all the time. I spent dozens of hours researching dog food on the internet, settling on a brand that consisted of raw, grass-fed meat and organic vegetables, a bloody mess that I delighted in watching Quincy devour. I even wrote a song about her, whose lyrics I will spare you.

As a writer who works at home, I had spent most of my adult life allowing my days to unspool as a series of jazz improvisations. During my unhappy young adulthood, Lou's routine was dictated by my vagaries, to both our detriments. Now, I was submitting to Quincy's rhythms, and she gave my days a structure and order that went beyond meeting her needs. Every morning after her walk, I began meditating for half an hour and sitting down at my desk to work by 9:00. I also started going to CrossFit five times a week and adopted a Paleo diet, which turned out to be much like Quincy's, though I preferred my meals cooked and free of offal. Getting a dog may not be a panacea for all human problems, but to take care of Quincy, I had to take care of myself, and that was a lot.

Safety Tips for Pet Owners on Halloween Night

With Halloween around the corner and trick-or-treaters on the hunt for candy, pet owners can take a few precautions to keep their pets safe.

Some pets may be afraid of spooky, eerie noises and be protective when people ring the doorbell or come in for a treat, so it's best to keep them away from the front of the house.

"In either case, some dogs get so stressed out, they act out," said County Animal Services Director Dan DeSousa. "Do Fido a favor and keep him behind a closed door or a crate away from the front door."

Also, if you decide to buy a costume for their dogs, make sure it isn't too restrictive or bothersome, according to Tracy DeFore County of San Diego Communications specialist.

A few pet owner tips:

Secure your dog away from the door.

Distract your dog with a favorite toy.

Turn on the TV or play music in the dog's room to mask sounds of activity at the front door.

Close the drapes so the dog doesn't see people walking by the front windows.

If your dog barks at the doorbell, disconnect it or watch for trick-or-treaters so they won't ring the bell or knock at the door.

Keep all pets indoors (cats, too) so they don't get spooked and run away.

Make sure all your pets are microchipped and dogs are registered with Finding Rover in case they do escape out the front door.

But parents and kids out trick-or-treating should also stay away from a pet owner's dog to prevent agitating them.

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Here are some tips for parents and kids out trick-or-treating:

Don't approach any dog even if you know him. He may not recognize you in costume.

Avoid houses with a dog barking behind the door or a fence.

If a dog is at the door when the owner opens it, do not approach him. Let the owner come to you with candy.

If the dog escapes or you meet a loose dog, stand still and "be a tree." That means fold your hands in front and watch your feet. The dog will probably just sniff you and move away but if the owner is present, wait for him to get the dog before you turn away.

Extinction looms for two rare birds after devastating hurricanes

Conservationists race to save remaining populations

Conservation biologist Paul Reillo is torn between two worlds in the aftermath of Hurricanes Irma and Maria — one of swift action and one of waiting.

There is little time to rest. More than 200 animals, many fighting extinction, are relying on him. The FIU scientist is the founder of the Rare Species Conservatory Foundation (RSCF), a partner in FIU's Tropical Conservation Institute (TCI), which offers safe haven, captive breeding programs and field-based conservation to help save endangered species. In a matter of two weeks, two species of birds on the brink of extinction were dealt devastating blows when hurricanes Irma and Maria crossed the Caribbean, leaving devastation in their wakes. The team at the Tropical Conservation Institute knows it is facing an unprecedented conservation crisis.

Working

Hurricane Irma caused more than $200,000 in damages at RSCF's property in Loxahatchee, Fla. Little could be done to save enclosures and fences from the storm, but Reillo and his team secured the animals, including 40 endangered east African bongo antelopes, 35 primates including endangered golden lion tamarins, nearly 100 parrots representing a variety of threatened and endangered species and 42 critically endangered Florida grasshopper sparrows.

The TCI team is putting in long hours to rebuild what was destroyed at the RSCF facility and to help the animals recover from the stress brought on by the storm. The Florida grasshopper sparrows are the greatest cause for concern. It is the world's most endangered bird with less than 100 remaining in the wild before Irma. The team fears the hurricane has crippled the wild population which resides exclusiv
ely in the prairie grasses of Central Florida. They are working with state and federal wildlife officials on strategies to help preserve the small number of birds that remain on the planet.

Waiting

Meanwhile, Reillo is waiting for news about Dominica's critically endangered Imperial Amazon.

Since the late 1990s, he has been working with Dominica's Forestry, Wildlife and Parks Division to help restore the rare parrot's population in the wild which has been devastated by habitat loss, the pet trade and natural disasters. In 2000, the local government established a national park to protect critical habitat for the rare parrot species. Reillo raised many of the funds himself to purchase the land necessary for the initiative.

Hurricane Maria, in a matter of a single day, destroyed more than 20 years of work to save the species.

"The flagship species we have fought to save for so many years may now face imminent extinction," Reillo said, pausing for a rare break from post-hurricane clean-up.

When Maria marched across the Caribbean, the expansive forests of the island were decimated. Tree canopies were gutted and critical habitat for the Imperial Amazon was destroyed. Dominica is among the most hardest hit countries by the recent spate of storms that attacked the Caribbean. Fewer than 250 mature Imperial Amazons were known to populate the forests of Dominica before Maria. Local forestry officials have been looking for any signs that some of the rare parrots weathered the storm, but the bird is elusive and difficult to find under normal circumstances. These are not normal circumstances.

"TCI's fight to save endangered species is critical," said Mike Heithaus, dean of FIU's College of Arts, Sciences & Education, which houses TCI. "Recent hurricanes have proven how very vulnerable many species are. Our programs can make the difference between an animal being here and not, but the monumental task before us is going to require tremendous local, national and international support."

Even if Imperial Amazons survived, the catastrophic destruction of the island's richly biodiverse forests is causing alarm for conservationists. Locals have spotted the more common Jaco parrot among the gutted forests, but those are struggling to find food. Their plight represents a much larger crisis looming over Dominica's wildlife and especially the Imperial Amazons.

Reillo believes the Imperial Amazon still has a fighting chance. For now, the focus is on getting supplies to the island including tarps, chainsaws, tools and veterinary supplies. Researchers and forestry officials are still trying to assess the status of the population and develop a strategy for recovery. The FIU Tropical Conservation Institute team is preparing for an aggressive plan that Reillo knows will come at a significant cost. But the alternative — loss of another flagship species — poses a far greater cost to the health of the planet.

For the love of birds

Any bird lovers out there? The change into the autumn season awakens the wonder of migratory birds on the wing once again, and with expectations we watch the sky for the first arrivals from the north.

At the same time, in this fiery fall of 2017, we watch the sky for smoke — the devilish byproduct of fire — and hope the waterfowl and other wanderers can endure the toxic atmosphere. Let the flames cease!

Of all the nature categories, birds have been one of the greatest attractions to me, a passion kindled during my Missouri boyhood days. Through the Missouri Department of Conservation, I became a Nature Knight, a program for kids, and was supplied with field guides, obtained a cheap monocular, and became obsessed with identifying a host of birds, as any bird watcher experiences when confronted with flocks of feathered friends.

When some of those vicious Midwestern storms pounded wind, lightning, and thunder into the night, I would lay in bed and wonder how those delicate bird beings could survive out there in the dark. I still think of the bird's crisis in extreme weather, or wildfires, 80 years later in Oroville.

Amazingly, next morning after a storm, the little sparrows, juncos, quail, and jays are there, going about their food-gathering ways like the beginning of a new day!

Prodded by that concern for resident winter birds in the Heartland, I would load my sled with lespedeza and grains after a big snow, and plow my way to a grove of eastern red cedar at the edge of Floyd's Timber. The cedar's low sprawling evergreen branches provided a shelter of sorts where I would lay out my offerings and hope no fox or weasel caught on. The adjoining woods were alive with squawking blue jay and jubilant cardinal and juncos that descended on my offerings.

Just imagine clutching a branch with thin legs as wind whips the woods furiously, and stinging rain — and sometimes hail — pelts the birds as if with a will to bring them down. You wonder if they feel fear, or worry about life itself.

Equally, what do the thicket birds do when flood or snow covers up their food supply, or a forest fire destroys their habitat? Shrubs such as buckbrush in California are very important shelters for ground birds, but its doubly tragic when the flame-monster destroys that benefit. There is doubling up on habitat, too, if they can escape on wings in time.

In the same vein, coral-berry brush, scattered weed patches, and fence rows were life savers for Missouri birds when winter weather raged.

There is always the presence of predators, even at night with the owl and fox on the prowl. Regardless of sympathy expressed by those who know birds and care, it is a dangerous jungle out there for songbird and shrew alike.

Resident birds endure the winter rather than migrate like the swallows and flycatchers, and as do the waterfowl in the Pacific Flyway. Who is there that cannot feel compassion for the goose or duck winging their way through the perilous sky southward toward an ice-free marsh?

"All day thy wings have fanned,/At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere ..." said Bryant.

Of utmost concern, even pity, is the case of Anna hummingbirds that choose to remain in Oroville rather than migrate like most hummers. The flowers on which they depend are far fewer in winter, and I, as well as many others, keep sugar-water feeders out for them.

Wallflower center pack baboons find place

Are you the kind of person who, at a party, tends to be surrounded by friends in the middle of the crowd, or do you prefer to find a quiet corner where you can sit and talk? Recent work by scientists at UC Davis shows that wild baboons behave similarly to humans—with some animals consistently found in the vanguard of their troop while others crowd to the center or lag in the rear.

Using high-resolution GPS tracking, UC Davis Assistant Professor Margaret Crofoot and her team of researchers continuously monitored the movements of nearly an entire baboon troop in central Kenya to discover how interactions among group-mates influenced where in the troop individuals tended to be found.

"How animals position themselves within their social group can have life or death consequences," explained Crofoot, an anthropologist. "Individuals at the front of their group may get the first crack at any food their group encounters, but they are also more vulnerable to being picked off by predators."

Interestingly, the team's work suggests that very simple behavioral rules may explain baboons' apparent preferences for particular spatial positions. "Animals who pay attention to more of their group-mates when deciding where to move will inevitably end up at the center of their group," said Crofoot. Differences in social sensitivity may therefore explain why younger baboons end up in the safest positions at the center of their troop, while adult males find themselves exposed on the leading edge.

Researchers have long noted that spatial positioning has important fitness implications, but where an animal is positioned in its group depends not only on its own behavior, but also on the behavior of its group-mates. "How natural selection shapes such emergent properties is fundamental to understanding the evolutionary dynamics of social organisms," Crofoot said.