Hurricane Katrina: Helping the Animals

I wasn’t going to write about my experiences during the aftermath of the Hurricane Katrina disaster. But now that time has passed, I feel some things are just too important to let pass.

On September 12, 2005, I found myself in Baton Rouge, Louisiana—Week 3 and Week 4 after Katrina hit New Orleans. I had been deployed by the Humane Society of the United States (HSUS) as part of its efforts to help rescue animals. I was to be on scene for the two weeks to do whatever they needed me to do.

I live in “earthquake country” in California. Because I like to be ready for anything, I had spent the previous four years completing training seminars for disaster preparedness for animals, in case we ever have “the big one.” I was never expecting to actually go anywhere.

My Hectic First Night in Louisiana

My Katrina deployment began with my arrival at 6 p.m., after flying all day and then taking a cab from the airport for the 45-minute ride to the Lamar Dixon Exposition Center. Thank God the taxi driver knew where I was going! Lamar Dixon is where HSUS had set up its shelter, almost 90 miles from the hard-hit New Orleans. When I got there, I hurriedly set up my pup tent, which would be my home for the next two weeks. (Of course, that changed when Hurricane Rita decided to pay us a visit.)

I was told they could use me at the check-in that started about 8 p.m., when people returned from their day of searching for and rescuing lost pets. I helped take animals off of the trucks for their check-in by the veterinarians. I also took dogs for walks and then set them up in kennels with food and water. But that quickly changed.

I saw other workers were having problems getting the aggressive dogs off the trucks because they were afraid of them. So I started to help by having a small chat with each of those dogs, letting them know where they were and that they were safe. This would immediately calm them down so I could hand them off to others who then put them in kennels and got them food.

One veterinarian said, “You have a way with animals.” I wish I could explain the look on his face when I told him I am an Animal Communicator. (Just writing that brings a smile to my face!) I could tell he wasn’t sure if I was gifted or a nut case. In any event, we both went back to work—that is, until he started sending a red-haired retriever to a kennel that should have gone to the Vet Station instead.

As I passed the dog, my medical intuition kicked in and I got a huge pain in my head. I said to the vet, “You need to check his head. There is something wrong with him.” The vet said, “I just checked him and he’s okay.” I said, “No he’s not. His head has huge pain. I feel it.” The vet shot me that look and said, “What DO you mean? You feel it?” And I explained, “I’m a medical intuitive. I feel his pain in my body. You have got to check him because something is definitely wrong.” Well, this time, the vet gave me a pissed-off, holier-than-thou look and said, “He’s fine.”

I knew better. So I followed the retriever to the back and took a look at his head. Sure enough, he had a gash in his head almost four inches long! I showed it to the volunteer who was walking him, and told her she should show it to the vet. She agreed and asked me to come along. But I decided if she showed him, then he would be more likely to do the right thing.

Later, the vet came up to me and said, “Okay, so it appears you have some special gifts. Why don’t you help me out? It will prevent me from having to look at the same dog twice.” I just smiled and said, “Sure. Be happy to help.” He later asked me what other tricks I had up my sleeves. I told him I would tell him, but I didn’t want to scare him. He laughed and so did I.

Blackie the Lab Needs Special Assistance

At 11 p.m., after helping with the intake of about 150 pets, I thought I would go to my tent and get some sleep. You have to envision Lamar Dixon. There were seven, huge metal-roof-covered barns with metal horse stalls lining both sides of each barn. It was more than a mile back to my tent. I was at barn #1 and as I passed barn #7, where the veterinarians were set up, I could hear a woman shouting.

“Get me some gauze to soak up this blood! Somebody get me some gauze. Hello? Can anyone hear me? I need some gauze up here,” she yelled. She was in the back of a regular (human) medical ambulance. There was a dog on the gurney and two men were having a time of it, trying to hold the animal, IV bags and other supplies. No one was around but me to hear the woman’s shouts. I looked on the table just outside of the ambulance and there was a big pile of gauze. I grabbed it and started to hand it to her. She said, “Thank God. Get up here. We need some help.”

I ended up spending three hours helping sew up a black Labrador with a huge cut underneath his left front leg. It took three rows of stitches, lots of dull scalpels and several medications to get the job done. My role was to stand right by the veterinarian and hold a big flashlight. By the time the procedure was over, we had gone through three flashlights—the batteries kept dying! I am still amazed I could hold my arms in the air that long. I also told the veterinary crew when the dog was waking up and that they needed more medication to sedate him.

When it was all over, the vet (whose name I found out is Debra) looked at me and said, “You’re the best vet tech I have ever seen.” I smiled and shook my head “no.” She asked, “What do you do?” I told her I am an Animal Communicator, Medical Intuitive and Reiki Master. She grabbed me by the arm and gave it a squeeze. There was a big smile on her face and she said, “Good. You’re working with me. I was wondering how you knew when the dog was waking up before I did. So from now on, you’re helping me.” I just smiled and said, “Okay.”

We got down off of the ambulance and helped our Lab, who was now named Blackie, into a kennel for some rest. There was no other way to get him in, but for Deb to walk backward, carrying Blackie, while I held his front end. This was very awkward and Deb ended up on her butt. Since she was now sitting down, she decided to take a little break and check Blackie’s vitals one more time. Everyone could tell how much she cared about the animals. And for me, it was fun working with a vet like Deb, because she never discounted anything I said.

By now, it was 2 a.m. Someone said there was great stew cooking in the food tent, which was directly behind barn #7. And I can tell you that indeed, it was the best stew I think I have ever eaten! Totally exhausted, I walked the other half-mile to my tent, laid my head down and went out like one of those flashlight batteries!

This was just the first night of my two-week stay. And the work never really slowed down.

The Rest of My Stay is Even Busier 

The morning came quickly and I found myself working with Deb for two more days. Next I was invited to go to New Orleans to do search-and-rescue with the Louisiana Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (LASPCA). I spent most of my time helping out in the Ninth Ward, the area worst hit by Katrina.

On the fourth day, when I got back to camp, I discovered my friends and the rest of our team from California had arrived—and it was great to see familiar faces. Once they joined the effort, they wanted help from me whenever I returned from search-and-rescue. Soon the word spread that there was an Animal Communicator in the camp and I found myself doing more things than you could imagine!

Pancake Gets Rescued from Amid the Ruins

The photos on this page are about a dog we named Pancake. The first picture (at the top) shows where the Fire Department marked the house so we could rescue him.

In the second picture, you can see where they cut a hole in the roof of his house. That is where we found Pancake, along with his deceased brother, a German shepherd, and his human Mom and Dad, who also didn’t make it.

The third picture is of me resting for a minute with Pancake on my stick-pole (in humid 105° weather), while the Fire Department was cutting down a chain link fence so we could get Pancake out.

Notice the gear you need to wear to perform search and rescue—the boots, pants, hat and plastic surgical gloves. We were lucky because we were allowed to wear short-sleeve shirts.

The firemen helped my partner Jazz (the only Navajo Indian in the Katrina operation) with the fence and together, they moved debris. It took us 45 minutes to get Pancake to the van.

These photos were taken during the first part of Week 4 after the Hurricane hit and the levies broke. The water was again rising, because the huge sandbags that had been blocking the levies began to leak. We had to evacuate the area. It was also one day before Hurricane Rita struck.

The final picture (below) is of Pancake after he arrived at the shelter. He had just jumped up on me. His front paws were around my hips and his head was buried near my pelvis. He was hanging on to me for dear life, saying, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You saved me.”

There was not a dry eye in the area—mine included. Jazz got the camera and Pancake decided to show everyone his belly. Notice how bloated his belly is from not eating for three and a half weeks.

A New Law for the Animals of California 

I’ll write about more of my experiences in Louisiana someday. I did stay at the site during Hurricane Rita, while most people were evacuated. During the worst of that storm, there were only about 10 of us per barn to feed, clean and take care of 3,000 animals! After arriving home, I spent several days sleeping and thinking about what had happened and all I had done. And I realized one thing: I didn’t want anything like that to happen to animals in California.

Not long after I got back, I was asked to speak at the Huntington Beach Chamber of Commerce. I invited my clients to come. One of them, who sat on an advisory board for then-Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, came up to me and said, “If you ever want to pass a law, let me know.” Talk about being in the right place at the right time! I knew that night “the powers that be” were helping me to help the animals.

After talking with some friends and other people in the Surf City Animal Response Team and the Humane Society of the United States, I was invited to a meeting at the Emergency Operations Center in Sacramento. The meeting was called to discuss what our state could do to prepare for a major disaster. Everyone who was anyone in the animal world was there, including representatives from the California Department of Food and Agriculture and the University of California, Davis, as well as many veterinarians and the West Coast director of the Humane Society of the United States. The word got out at the meeting that I had a friend with an ear to the governor. I was connected to a woman at the Food and Agriculture Dept. who got me to someone at the office of Leland Yee, the state legislator credited with writing California Assembly Bill 450, which allowed pets to be evacuated with people.

While I was working with Leland Yee’s office, my friend on the governor’s advisory board was doing what he could to make the governor and his wife, Maria Shriver, aware of the situation. He showed them some pictures of my visit to Katrina as well as a piece of paper with a handwritten, scrawled message, “Please don’t let this happen here!” I soon heard from the Emergency Operations Center in Sacramento that someone from the governor’s office came around asking questions.

AB 450 was actually written by a member of Leland Yee’s staff. She contacted me with advice on how to obtain and fax signatures to his office, so they would travel with the bill, giving it a better chance for success. I got the word out to all the animal organizations and asked them to forward the bill to everyone they knew. I called the woman back about four hours after sending my emails and she told me they might have to get another fax machine because they already had over 400 signatures! Later, she told me, “It’s a very impressive amount of paper that will now follow this bill everywhere it goes.”

When the bill went to the assembly, several legislators wanted to change some wording. I called my friend, who talked to the governor and the wording was fixed—and, of course, those lawmakers wanted to be added as co-authors. Then it went to the California Senate and more changes were suggested. Again, I made another call to my friend and the governor intervened. Again, several senators were added to the bill as authors.

Then finally the bill was passed and Governor Schwarzenegger signed it on September 29, 2006. It usually takes two years to pass a piece of legislation, but we got this one through in nine months—a huge record that I am very proud of. The bill became effective on January 1, 2007, requiring California’s disaster preparedness agencies to consider household pets, service animals, equines and livestock in emergency evacuation planning.

My Continued Commitment to Protecting Our Pets

All in all, it was a good 12 months for me—from helping animals in Louisiana to advocating for animals in California. I received a congratulatory bouquet of flowers from someone very special to me, with a card that put things in perspective. It read, “Terri, only you could do radio, T.V. and pass a bill through the Assembly in one week.”

After helping with AB 450 and volunteering with several animal-rescue groups, I was asked to serve on a committee formed to head up evacuation development for the County of Los Angeles. I was also recruited to help with organizing evacuations and develop procedures for the City of Los Angeles. I teach classes on disaster preparedness and search-and-rescue of small pets. I also co-authored a handout for the Surf City Animal Response Team, called “Start Where You Stand,” to help people prepare for a local disaster. I have been asked to speak many times about disaster preparedness and my Katrina experiences.

If you live in the Los Angeles area and are interested in attending classes for search-and-rescue of small pets in your neighborhood, please contact me for information on where these classes are being taught. A little knowledge can save a pet’s life during a disaster and enable you to be part of the solution.

Let me leave you with one last thought: please, if you ever need to evacuate your home, TAKE YOUR PETS WITH YOU.