‘Do Unto Animals’ takes savvy, practical approach

81sxcc1obelWhen the enormity of a problem makes you want to shrug your shoulders and turn away, that’s the time to break that problem down — into a million oddball pieces if necessary — and find something, however small it may seem, that you can do. Sometimes it’s right in your back yard.

Tracey Stewart’s book, Do Unto Animals: A Friendly Guide to How Animals Live, and How We Can Make Their Lives Better, does this with the savvy of a an animal advocate and former vet tech and with mom-next-door authenticity. The book also does it with Lisel Ashlock’s breathtaking illustrations, some of them simply capturing the natural world and others showing how pigs express sadness, how cats may react to catnip (“whoa, dude!”), and more.

Within these colorful pages, you’ll find everything from practical animal care tips (“Five Ways to Make a Cat Happy”) to recipes for homemade dog biscuits and horse cookies to hard-to-take information about puppy mills and factory farms. At no point in the reading of this book did I find the shaming, blaming, or manipulating that can seep into the most well-meaning literature that aims to benefit animals or the environment as a whole. Parents will find this book especially useful, as there are several activities (such as the “Hurtless Hunt”) families can do together.

So the next time you read or hear something that leaves you feeling overwhelmed with sadness and/or that nothing you can do could possibly help — first of all: Breathe. Then open this book.

‘Am I making my animal sick?’

Image by Mirko Sajkov from Pixabay

You’re in the thick of a stressful time, and now your animal friend is sick or has developed a puzzling behavioral issue. That’s hard enough.

Since the link between illness and stress cannot be denied — nor can the link between you and your animal — you may even wonder if you are part of the problem. Did the animal take on your stress? Were you so distracted that you didn’t notice your pet was having problems?

“Am I making my animal sick?” is a question I’ve heard from friends and my animal communication clients. I’ve heard it from myself, too.

Before you go down this rabbit hole (I’ve been there; would not recommend), remember that the first person to talk to is a licensed veterinarian. Take the opportunity to learn and make recommended changes in your pet’s diet, environment or routine.

For that matter, this could also be a great time to top up your own coping skills. Exercise, for example — more dog walks, barn time, or cat play sessions — could benefit both of you.

Benefiting both of you is what this is about.

When I’m communicating with an animal, he or she will often show me stress in the household or barn. That can come through in, say, the image of a person angry or downcast. It could also be the sound of raised voices or just a heaviness I can feel in my chest.

Animals may not understand what’s going on, but they feel it. Some animals are afraid, perhaps for good reason. Most want to help.

Bentley, a 12-year-old Westie mix, developed digestive issues just as his person, Aileen, was grieving a huge loss. The vet prescribed medication and a change in diet. Still, she wondered if her stress had exacerbated his condition. “Am I driving him nuts?” she asked.

That notion hadn’t occurred to Bentley, who showed me a grey fog surrounding Aileen and her heart intact. “We’re doing this together,” he told me. They both have continued to heal.

It reminded me of when I feared I was making my tiger cat, Idgie, sick. I took her to the vet, we began treatment for her hypothyroidism and I took some important steps to heal myself and my life. On the night before her thyroid surgery, instead of the usual worrying I sat down to at least try a meditation. She curled up in my lap and purred. “OK, I think you’re starting to get it,” I heard before she drifted off to sleep. She inspired me to take better care of myself as well as her, and we enjoyed several more years together.

I’ve never had an animal tell me their person’s distress made them ill. What they tell me instead is that they and their beloved humans are tackling stress, illness and whatever else as a team. They can’t solve your problems (though your shepherd dog would gladly try), but they will sit, stand and walk with you every step of the way. That may be the best medicine of all.

A timely visit with the owls … and an eagle

I had a chance to meet some beautiful birds the other day when Soarin’ Hawk Raptor Rehabilitation Center held a fundraiser at Wild Birds Unlimited in Fort Wayne.

Above are Puck, an eastern screech owl with an injured wing from a probable car strike; Jefferson, a bald eagle who was shocked by an electric wire and has arthritis in his elbow; and Athena, a great horned owl found orphaned with an injured wing. 

Below are Monet, a barn owl donated by a falconer; Oakley, a red-phase Eastern screech owl who was hit by a car and lost an eye; and Indy, a barred owl found stranded and possibly blind on the median of Interstate 69. Though some of his vision has returned, he can’t see well enough to be released.

All sat quietly on volunteers’ gloved arms in a bustling store packed with admirers and shoppers. The trust between the birds and their handlers, including Chewie and friend below, was palpable. Chewie, short for Chewbacca, is a Eurasian eagle owl who was also donated by a falconer.

Meeting the birds and listening to the Soarin’ Hawk volunteers tell their stories, I was struck by the persistence, patience and love this work must take. The humans, and the wild birds who have become ambassadors — most by way of misadventure — team up for healing and to inspire others to care. 

When Jefferson the eagle was brought out, I felt a pang of both love and sadness. The eagle is a national and spiritual emblem, I love my country, and I’m sad for where we are right now. 

Do living, breathing eagles understand what they symbolize? I don’t know, but this one looked me in the eye. “I’m OK. It’s OK,” I heard. 

Eagles, according to Soarin’ Hawk, adapt slowly to change and so are difficult to train as education birds. Yet here Jefferson was, doing his bit. 

Maybe we can heal, too.