After our brief overnight in Charleston, West Virginia, we had a 400 mile trek to Indianapolis, where we were scheduled to meet with Christine, a friend of Stacey’s at Animal Farm, who ran the Indianapolis Humane Society.

Since we were heading this way in large part due to the breed ban in Ohio, I was horrified when Gidget was sending us towards a Cincinnati highway. So much so, I pulled over and actually consulted my Atlas. (Unheard of, for anyone who knows me well). I even asked a truck driver what to do, just to make sure I was on the right path.

The new route took us through Louisville, Kentucky, which looks like a really cool city. Lots of independent music stores, book stores, ethnic restaurants, and boutiques, surrounded by the lush Kentucky landscape and charming architecture. We stopped at Homemade Ice Cream and Pie Kitchen (!), which was in the Roadfood book, for a hummus and spring mix sandwich, as well as a piece of mixed berry pie, which I wolfed down on the Interstate. (Pretty good, but I would compete my own blackberry pie against it confidently).

Indiana wasn’t as flat or as dry as I expected. The rolling hills were less hilly, but the trees were still there. Loren and I rolled into town around 5 p.m. and stopped at West Park for a stroll. The area we stayed at, near the Pyramids, was very suburban and the park gorgeous.

West Park

A wooded path looped around a little lake, festooned with lily pads, ducks cruising along the surface. Loren, though hot, was fascinated by the new environment, sniffing along contentedly before the humidity took over. She took many a break, under whatever shade she could find. Taking her cue, I laid out too, for a few minutes and gazed upward. There’s something special the Midwest sky, so open, so blue, and today, big fluffy clouds abounded. It was beautiful.


"Break time!"

For dinner, I had to try a local specialty - spaghetti and chili - also known as four way with onions. That means meat sauce, cheese, and onions over pasta. It had a cinnamon tang, similar to what you find in Moussaka, which I found really tasty. I also ate a Greek salad, to balance out the damage.

The skies turned dark the next morning, when we went to Indy Humane. I was immediately struck by spacious play yard in the front, complete with a picnic bench and dog houses. Inside, the space was warm and inviting, cheerful even. We were greeted cheerfully by staff. Loren immediately made herself at home.

"Hellooo...I'm here!"

Christine gave me a tour. She only started there in December, 2008, but her passion and commitment were palpable, as Christine has been involved in the animal welfare movement for over a decade.

We looked at the cats first.

“The policy here used to be to euthanized cats with feline HIV, but we’ve instituted a new program and have adopted out eight since then,” she said.

Like all the shelters I visited, cat intakes were more than that of dogs, especially in the summertime, the peak of kitten season. Thought admittedly a dog person, I once had a cat named Pookie, a fat orange tabby I adored.

There was a young version of Pookie there, whom Christine interacted with.



My Pookie lookalike, getting TLC from Christine

Many cats were waiting in the back, until a spot on the adoption floor opened up.

Christine & the cats at Indy Humane

In the dog areas, I was happy and surprised to see many of the kennels empty.


A quality problem

“We had a huge level of adoptions this weekend and last,” Christine said. “We’re putting in calls to other shelters to bring their dogs here.”

One reason the adoptions were so high was a well-publicized puppy mill bust, which brought 20 survivors to Indy Humane.

“Those dogs were snapped up in no time,” Christine said. “Best of all, all our little dogs went with them, because of the publicity.”

Of the big dogs, a nine-year old purebred German Shepherd was one of the sadder stories. His owners, who claim they paid $15,000 for the dog and brought all his papers to Indy Humane, had surrendered him once they lost their home.

"Where did my family go?!"

On the opposite end of the spectrum, a trio of chocolate and black lab mix puppies played in an adorable tangle amidst their small crate.

 
"Hey, wassup?"

Thankfully, Indy Humane’s overall adoption rate is extremely high. Over 90 percent. Of the dogs they take in, approximately 10 percent or less are pit bulls due to their location as well as their demographic.


Indy Humane pit mix


Bulll breed? Hard to tell...

“Go to the city and the kennels are overflowing with pits,” Christine said. “We bring in a lot of them to Indy Humane, but have to be careful not to overdo it. Some of our long-term adopters don’t want to see high numbers of bully breeds. We have to keep it balanced.”

For the harder to place animals, Christine, a married mother of a three-year old adopted son, as well as four dogs, four cats, and fish, goes the extra mile.

“I’m up until midnight, looking at our inventory, trying to find foster homes, rescue groups, whoever I can find, to take our dogs and cats,” she said.

Several members of Indy Humane’s staff belong to a non-profit pit bull advocacy group called Indy Pit Crew, which provides training, free spay/neuter vouchers, and other resources to owners.

“We’ll offer people free dog food to get their dog spayed or neutered,” said Nina, Indy Humane behaviorist and Indy Pit Crew volunteer. “Whatever it takes.”

"Nina tastes good!"

Nina and Lisa, also an Indy Humane behaviorist and Indy Pit Crew volunteer, are proud parents of pit bulls themselves. Stella rides around with Lisa in her “Indy Pit Crew“ emblazoned SUV, cheeks flapping in the wind. Coal, a gorgeous gray and white bully taken during a drug bust, has a slight, silly underbite and awesome demeanor. So much so that his mama Nina uses him for temperament evaluations at the shelter.

“He gets along with everyone, he’s just a solid, solid dog,” Nina said.

Indy Pit Crew is just one way Indy Humane is partnering with the community to benefit its pets. Plans are in the works for a resource center, closer to lower-income target zip codes, that will provide pet owners with options other than turning their pets into a shelter.

Until then, Indy Humane is focusing on using online social networking, such as Facebook and email blast programs, to increase its visibility in the area and encourage its residents to adopt, rather than shop for pets. An “Adopt 500 Animals in May” campaign met its goal (slightly late, on June 4).

Tristan, Indy Humane’s communications manager, realized the power of online marketing before he went to work at the shelter. At his previous company, located in a lower income area, co-workers would often find stray kittens and dogs, especially pit bulls, in the parking lot and just beyond.

“I started posting them on Craiglist and also sending out emails to staff whenever a dog or cat would be found,” Tristan said. “At least a dozen animals were adopted out that way.”

We discussed the complex nuances of the animal welfare issue: education, low cost or free spay and neuter, providing owners with the resources they need to keep their pet, and what an uphill battle it felt like at times.

“It’s easy to preach to the choir,” I said to Christian. “It’s reaching those outside the circle that’s so hard.”

“Yeah, I know. A lot of people in this country don‘t understand why there‘s a movement to help homeless pets when humans are suffering, too,” Tristan said. “But I believe that we have to have compassion and recognize these creatures as the living, sentient beings that they are. Otherwise, what hope is there for us as a society?”

"I agree with you, Tristan..."

My feelings mirror Tristan’s. When we turn domesticated animals away or dump them or mistreat them, we not only violate their trust and right to a decent life, we create a far-reaching social problem with a shameful, unacceptable solution. The killing of millions of homeless pets each year.

I wish there was no need for me to volunteer at the Brittany Foundation or tour shelters with Loren on our road trip. I wish none of it existed. Unfortunately, like the abuse of children or the elderly and war and all the other horrible things in this world, the situation is manmade. All I can do is my little part to make things better. Be a part of the solution rather than the problem.

At Nina’s suggestion, Loren and I took drove to the downtown area and went for a stroll on the canals that start on 10^th street. What an oasis in the big city, the water calm and serene, surrounded by sidewalks and lawns on either side.

Scenes from the canals of Indy





Apartments and town homes faced the water. Couples walked by hand in hand, one lounging on a bench, the girl with her head in her boyfriend’s lap. An older man walked his small fluffy white dog. Joggers jammed by, Ipods in place. The scene was really peaceful, until a group of young teenage boys rode by us on their bikes.

One of them made a kissing sound when he spotted Loren. “I’d do your dog in the butt!” he screamed as his friends laughed.

OK, that was a first…and hopefully a last. I predict a lot of therapy in this kid’s future.

Craving something semi-healthy, I spotted a falafel place a half mile from our hotel and placed an order. As I waited, a man came up to me, commenting on my Indy Pit Crew T-shirt.

“My wife’s dog keeps having babies. I don’t know why,” he said with a smile.

“Well,” I said, trying to hold back my sarcasm. “You could have your dogs spayed and neutered.”

“Oh, I know. But my wife’s from the country and she’d never go for that,” he responded. “People in Rockville, where I live, want Yorkie puppies.”

“There are lots of great little dogs for adoption at the shelter, right here, at Indy Humane,” I responded.

“Yeah, but people don’t want to drive all the way out here and there aren’t any shelters where we live,” he said.

He continued to tell me about his dogs, his barn cats, the country way of life in general. I just stood there, growing slightly numb as one does during an unreciprocated conversation. Finally, the cook came out and handed the man his bag of food.

His parting comment shocked me.

“I appreciate what you’re doing,” the man said. “Things might change someday. It’s just going to take a long time.”

Hungry and tired, I took Loren for a potty break before going to the room. She was not ready to go back in yet, not only stopping in her tracks, but crossing her legs, too.

I was in no mood. After trying nicely to cajole her in the door, my food growing colder and my hunger increasing by the minute, I dragged her in.

Loren gave me a dirty look, a pout even, and for the first time on our entire trip, did not jump up on the bed with me when I called her. I tried and tried, but it was no use. She laid out on the floor near the foot of the bed instead. She was clearly over me.

I couldn’t help it, I was hurt. I cried. I was all alone. Thousands of miles from home. Without the comfort of my best canine girlfriend to get me through the loneliness.

I finally feel asleep, when the phone rang. It was my boyfriend, three hours behind in California.

“Loren doesn’t love me any more,” I said and explained the situation.

“Aw, you poor thing,” Wayde said. “You’re really alone, huh?”

“Yes,” I said sadly.

“Don’t worry, she’ll probably jump up on the bed in the middle of the night,” he said.

After we hung up, I went to the bathroom. When I got back into bed, there was a red and white lump laying near my pillow. I kissed her head and cried a little more. This trip was making me a little nutty.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.