Animals in the aftermath

  • Published
  • By Master Sgt. Orville F. Desjarlais Jr.
  • Air Force Print News
When David Cook’s resolve crumbled after a week of surviving in his third-floor apartment amid Hurricane Katrina floodwaters, he searched for help that arrived too quickly.

After Mr. Cook endured Katrina’s wrath Aug. 29, he said his two “hardheaded” roommates talked him into staying put another seven days despite the damage to their room.

“The smell started to get to me,” Mr. Cook said about the 7 feet of floodwater that filled up the first floor of his complex.

Fortunately he had access to a boat, so he loaded up himself and his two dogs, Maya and Tiny, and paddled across the road to another complex. After lifting his dogs out of the boat, he took them to the roof and awaited evacuation.

When the helicopter arrived, it swooped in swiftly, so quickly that Mr. Cook did not have time to catch Tiny, who shied away from the thump and whipping winds of the helicopter blades.

On Sept. 5, with only Maya in his arms, he walked off the helicopter and into this airport and asked, “What do I do?”

That question has been asked about 20,000 times since the start of this rescue effort. That is how many displaced people have been processed through here. And with the people came the pets.

When rescuers first began plucking people from rooftops after the hurricane passed, they ran across something quite unexpected. Since the rescuers focused on saving as many human lives as possible, some refused to save pets. Not enough room in the helicopters. Much to their surprise, some pet owners refused to evacuate if forced to leave their pets behind.

Days later, when the numbers of evacuees ebbed, helicopter aircrews began rescuing more pets. Once the pets arrived here, veterinarian medical assistant team members from the Federal Emergency Management Agency treated and released the animals. Recently, FEMA moved them elsewhere in this vast, three-state disaster area.

That is when volunteers stepped in to fill the void. Without animal medical supplies, Lt. Col. Doug Mesler, Maj. Renee Shibukawa-Kent and Army Spc. Rachel Burgas set up a table with water, antibiotics, crackers, pet food and bandages. Although each has a veterinarian background, they were not sent here to care for animals.

Colonel Mesler is a public health officer with the Nevada Air National Guard’s 152nd Medical Group. When he is not working for the Guard, he runs his own veterinary clinic.

Major Shibukawa-Kent is a consultant for the Air Force Institute for Operational Health at Brooks City-Base, Texas. Before entering the Air Force, she was a practicing veterinarian for 10 years.

Army National Guard Specialist Burgos is normally a dentist, but she was sent here as a medial “floater” to help where needed. While she was active-duty Army, she was a veterinarian assistant.

They inspect every animal as it comes through airport doors, with or without owners. Once examined, the vets release the animals to their owners and both board either a bus or plane out of the city. Servicemembers or relief workers adopt many of the strays. The vets give the rest to civilian agencies for adoption.

“We treat most of the animals for dehydration or diarrhea,” Colonel Mesler said. “Most of the time, the pets arrive here in better condition than their owners.”

Although Major Shibukawa-Kent has not practiced her vet skills for a while, she said it was like riding a bike.

“It’s all coming back to me now,” she said, as she examined Maya. “Since things have quieted down, I feel I can still do something to help.”

Once she finished with Maya, the major inspected a lost puppy which had amazing magnetic powers. People from all around had to walk over to pet it. She said that during a time of crisis, people feel an almost uncontrollable need to encounter something normal.

“Petting a puppy calms them,” the major said.

Specialist Burgos feels fortunate to be able to help pets and people who have lost so much to Hurricane Katrina.

“To me, it’s very important for pet owners to leave here with their pets. Sometimes, their pets are the only thing they have left,” she said.

Such is the case with Mr. Cook.

“I don’t know what to do,” Mr. Cook said. “I lost everything, and I have nothing to go back to.”

After a phone call, he tucked Maya under his arm and walked in search of an Air Force representative who could put him on the next plane out in search of another life.