Dogcatcher's Dumpster

Animal Control the Right Way

Cuba has a homeless dog problem.  They have had it for years.  Tourists see the dogs in public parks, around hotels and near museums and tourist attractions.  Dog and cat lovers often go back home from Cuba wishing they could do something to help their hapless furry friends.  They spend a little time on the Internet and write us to see what can be done.

Cubans know what their government does about the strays, and it isn't pretty.  Gangs of prisoners cruise the city in trucks looking for the strays.  If they spot a healthy dog or cat, it usually can elude these jailbird dog catchers, but they usually capture the old, the sick, and the nursing females and their puppies.  Those animals unlucky enough to be caught are tossed into metal dumpsters trailed behind trucks for a hot, bumpy ride to a "zoonosis" center about 15 miles west of Havana.  "Zoonosis" is Cuban for animal killing center.

Those sweeps for strays are the government's way of making a good impression on tourists, Cuba's biggest source of hard currency, but, judging by the comments of travelers, the effort is largely a failure.  Not publicized by the governments is what happens to the captured animals.  At the zoonosis center (named Arroyo), new arrivals are placed in large barred cells, perhaps 20 to a cage.  They are given water, but no food for a few days as they are watched for signs of rabies.  After the quarantine period, their hunger is satisfied with a meal laced with strychnine.  Then begins an hour's long intense suffering as the poison does its work, and finally all is quiet, and the dead animals are removed to a landfill.

The government provides no money for humane euthanasia medicines, even though much of the staff at Arroyo is trained to administer the needed intravenous injections.  The lack of trained people is rarely a problem in Cuba because of its good free education system.  So the main problem is lack of humane euthanasia medicines.

Since TAP began helping Aniplant helping Cuban animals in 2005, we have concentrated on supplying anesthesia medicines to Aniplant's spay-neuter clinics.  Aniplant has progressed steadily from 500 sterilizations per year to over 5000 per year.  This work has been more effective in reducing strays on the street than all the years of roving prisoner dog catchers.  Without sterilization, Arroyo killed about 14000 animals a year.  But in the years since TAP augmented Aniplant's supplies of anesthetics, the number of animals killed in Arroyo has declined to about 6000 a year, a 57 percent drop in cruel killings with poison.

The use of strychnine is no secret.  Your hotel bellboy can probably tell you what happens to the strays who hang around tourist areas when they get sick.  What he probably won't tell you is we've already cut down the slaughter by 8000 animals per year.

The Humane Society of the United States has said that the only log-term effective solution to animal homelessness is massive spay-neuter campaigns like the ones Aniplant provides.  We subscribe to that belief, and our most important work, helping Aniplant's spay-neuter clinics, is having the desired its desired effect in curtailing the number of poisonings.

Think about it; what good does killing 14000 dogs a year do if those who remain are free to breed and replace their numbers within a year?  It's far better to restrict their ability to breed and gradually curtail the poisonings and their associated suffering.  Your donations to TAP make this possible.

Les Inglis

                                           Nora, Gerry Hill, Bob Skogland,Xenia Mathews

Logistics for the Animals

In 2007 we began our aid to Aniplant in Cuba with shipments of Ketamine, an injectable animal anesthetic.  This enabled a large increase in the number of animals sterilized by Aniplant in Cuba.  Shipping medicines into Cuba is legal under the rules of the US embargo against Cuba.  US law specifically states that medicines and medical supplies "shall not be restricted."  We interpret this to mean they shall not be prohibited, taxed or licensed, all of which are restrictions on commerce.  Of course rules regulating the handling of controlled drugs still apply.

But more recently, as we considered ways we can help Cuban animals, we realized that Aniplant needs lots of vet meds and shelter supplies that are not controlled.  These items are easy to buy in the US and can be shipped to Cuba in accordance with the above provision of the embargo.  In a conversation with Bob Skogland, a TAP director and Vice President, we began to develop a list of non-controlled medicines we could supply to Cuba.  For the most part, these items are hard to find or expensive in Cuba.  Remember, in Cuba no government assistance is provided to animal protectors, so they must raise whatever funds they need by themselves.

Bob got together with his vet, Dr. Dean Ebert of Venice, Florida and constructed of items Aniplant might need.  Without this collaboration I couldn't have made much of a list myself.  Bob has more knowledge about vet meds than I do, but he still needed Dr Ebert's help to get a really good list.

We began with shelter needs—meds for mange, fleas, ticks, worms, etc.  Then Nora added a list of meds to supply their new clinic and surgery in Aniplant's headquarters—things like antibiotics, sutures, and steroids. Once Bob and Dr. Ebert reviewed all items for cost, weight (to minimize shipping costs), and need, we had a good list.

Nora had to submit the list for government approval (they even have to approve the makers of the drugs).  Once we have their OK, we can buy the items through Dr. Ebert and gather and pack them for shipment to our freight forwarder in Miami.  Then they go via air to Havana for delivery within Havana to Nora's doorstep. 

While anesthetics are crucial to our sterilization efforts, a huge range of other meds are needed to supply a first class veterinary activity in Havana.  We are committed to making this supply line work for the benefit of Cuba's animals.

And here's a big thank you to Bob Skogland and Dr. Dean Ebert—indispensable parts of the machinery we are assembling to help the animals of Cuba.

Les Inglis

                                                                Nora and Friends

Rehoming

It always surprises me how much interest there is among tourists visiting Cuba in helping out the stray animals they encounter.  Many are eager to adopt a dog they've seen and ship him home, wherever that may be.

We try to be careful in enabling these projects as the adopter needs to be realistic about how long it can take and how much it might cost.  Even faced with the costs, many still want to adopt a Cuban dog and ship him home.

A couple of years back we learned of the rigorous requirements the UE imposes on importing dogs.  They are so tough, it is nearly impossible to accomplish rehoming in the UE.  I was corresponding with Nora Garcia, Aniplant's President, when I received her comments on rehoming, and I felt they were worth sharing with you.  As you'll see, not all of these projects end up with a dog as well adapted as Pablo is. (Pablo is the rehomed dog pictured below romping on the beach at Malibu.)  Nora's words show the loving spirit that prompts Aniplant's work for the animals of Cuba.  Nora wrote:

We have sent 2 animals to Germany—a dog and a cat, and I have photos of thanks from those persons.  Also we've sent to Canada and several to the US.  (The US count is 14 counting Pablo and Christian,)  Two dogs, brothers, went to Spain.  The UE regulations are tough but achievable when there is true interest on the other side and they really want the animal.  One American official shipped 8 dogs at one time—a really memorable event.

I believe I told you of two young people visiting in Trinidad, Cuba who found and picked up a little dog with malformed feet, saved him, and wanted to take him with them..They had true interest because when they got to the tourist bus to return, the driver wouldn't let them board the bus with the dog.  So they rented a car and arrived here in Havana with him.

They asked us for shelter, and I got the husband of an Aniplant employee to promise to care for him.  We supplied his food and we paid 90 CUC (about $90) for three months fostering, grooming, vaccinating, and a blood test.  When the paid time was used up and the dog was healthy and we were ready to send the blood sample, the young men wrote us and said that they had no money to pay for all that was needed.  I needed to tell the foster parent what had happened.  I thought he would keep the dog out of love for him.  When I told him, he told me definitely if we didn't have the money, we couldn't have the dog.

We were faced with the impossibility of placing an adult dog with twisted feet whom we all adored.  I offered the foster parent half of what was owed, and he accepted, and ever since then we've paid 360 pesos in his expenses and supplied his food.  These are the risks of taking a dog for eventual shipping.  The only pay we get is to know the dog is happy.  In this case, the foster parents don't mistreat him, and he is very loving to them.  They care well for him.  The foster parent is on a fixed salary, and what we pay for the dog's care is a big help to them.

We have setbacks, but we keep going forward, after 27 years, in this business, Aniplant has a long history with many stories to tell.

Nora

                                                              Princess

                                                               Pablo at the beach

Animal Emotions

Animals got a bad deal when they were put on earth without the ability to speak.  We humans are a little better off because we can easily transmit our thoughts and feelings to one another through speech.  There are some people who think of animals as dumb brutes and who go so far as to hold that animals have no souls, emotions, spirits, or even self consciousness.  They think that animals are ours to use, however we like.  If you buy into that idea it's easy to justify the cruelty we apply to food animals, lab animals, and working animals.  After all, they say, animals don't tell us they object to the cruel treatment we give them.

Anyone who ever loved and lived with a dog or even a cat will deny such a blunt, mechanistic view of animals. You can't have a dog for a pet and think he has no emotions, self consciousness, etc.  A dog will bond for life with his master in a very short time.  Even though he can't tell me how he feels in words, I still know he has a big range of emotions from observing his interaction with me.  He shows it by his physical reactions to our emotions like tail wagging, racing, bowing, licking, or even barking.  He reads the emotions of our lives and shows us his reactions.  Be it anger, fear, calmness, rush, sleep, love, he has a reaction tailored to our feelings.  How could he understand and differentiate out moods and actions and react to each one appropriately if he didn't have emotions and self consciousness himself?

With a faint stirring of her tail, my sweet little Princess responds to my recognition of her.  If I look like I want to pet her, she comes to me, rolls over and presents her tummy for a scratching. I always thought my dogs were better at reading my emotions and moods than most other people are, even though I can speak to people about my feelings.  Think about it—wouldn't you develop a keener perception about others' feelings if you didn't have speech to help you?

At the top of this posting is one of my favorite pictures of an animal.  It's Pablo at the beach in Malibu.  I've used this picture and Pablo's story before, but this time I do it just to ask you a question.  Is this dog angry, upset, sick, loveless?  Or is he bursting with joy, loving life, and at peace with his situation?

Those are easy questions, so here's a tougher one: What is Pablo trying to say to Amanda, his owner and the woman behind the camera?  Clearly he's telling us how great he's feeling and returning her love.  Keep in mind Pablo had a many months-long bout with illness until he was healthy enough to be flown to the US and his new home with Amanda.  Chances are  in his entire life he never had a moment of pure joy like the one the camera caught on California's most famous beach.

You might notice that when I refer to animals with relative pronouns, I do it with "who," not "which," and when I use personal pronouns for animals, Princess is "she, and Danny was "he."  Stuffy grammarians say doing this is "anthropomorphizing" (attributing human qualities to an animal) and prescribe against it.  But I emphatically deny this is wrong.  These companions are emotional little beings who share their feelings with me and understand mine as well.

Our penchant for political correct language finally made "chairman" into "chair" and "spokesman" into "spokesperson."  I'm hoping it won't be too long until we honor our animal companions with "he" or "she" instead of the godless, cold, inert "which."

Les Inglis

Les Inglis

                                                                       Scavanging

Decades of Discord

The cold war was about 13 years old when Fidel Castro came to power in Cuba, pushing a host of changes in how the island nation thinks and acts, and precipitating a long period of enmity between Cuba and the US.  That contentious era continues to this day, and is now 54 years old and shows few signs of moderating.

Oh, a few hopeful signs of better relations between the two counties have made news recently.  The negotiations to normalize postal cooperation are the most recent.  Right now if you if you mail a package to Cuba, you pay $10 per pound postage and get no guarantee of delivery within Cuba from USPS,  All they'll promise is to get it to Cuba, and they don't promise delivery within Cuba.  A postal cooperation would be a boon to people on both sides of the Florida Straits.

But it is still a baby step toward normal relations.

Obama's relaxation of the crazy rules affecting travelers is another small, but welcome change.  I do, however, think it was done more to poke a finger in the eye of his US opposition (Republican conservatives) than to bring about a new era of friendship.  But don't get me wrong; I support relaxation of the travel rules.

I hate to say it, but I really believe the long term spat had begun to widen the cultural differences that separate the two countries.  In Cuba, all those years of authoritarian government have produced an almost cynical pessimism among Cubans hoping for a change.  The prevailing attitude seems to be, "It is what it is," and that seems to be replacing any advocacy for improvement.

One the US side, our Congress and political parties, who never did much anyway, have now found a detent in which a minority of elected legislators can prevent nearly any bill from being passed.  This minority is dead set against admitting immigrants to the US, and this includes Cubans.  So, any suggestion we moderate our tough policy against Cuba is met with legislative deadlock.  There'll be no easing of restrictions under the law until our Congress grows up and decides to work for the good of the country on needed legislation.

Clearly, if the people on both sides don't expect a rapprochement, it isn't likely to happen.  Thus a customs agent or a postal inspector in Cuba can and does stop a package for the tiniest infraction.  An immigration officer in the US will apply the letter of the law and send a Cuban refugee rafter back home, even after he crossed 90 miles of rough water at great peril and now stands only ankle deep in the waves lapping at our shore.  But, once the Cuban's feet are dry and he stands on US territory, the refugee gets special treatment no other foreign national gets.  He gets instantly a green card permitting him the right to work in the US, practically free health care, and counseling to help him achieve a new productive life in America.

That almost sounds incongruous.  Why whisk an arriving man back to Cuba if he is still in the water on the one hand and yet give him a warm welcome and much help to settle in here if he actually has made it all the way to shore?  But who ever said government policies on either side make sense?

On a practical level, if you're trying to help the animals of Cuba, you might want to send medicines and medical supplies from here to there.  But you can't without jumping through bureaucratic hoops, both Cuban and American.  You might want to send a computer for animal protectors there to use in communicating with their American counterparts.  You might want to rehab a sick puppy and send him to an American home, but you think twice before running the gauntlet of government and veterinary rules and regulations enforced by stern faced airport and airline people.  And the scrutiny of Americans in Cuba is more severe than for others while vice versa is also true.

You can title this lament, Leslie's Complaint, for I have offered no real solution.  All we can do is try to comply with red tape, expect delays, refusals, and next to no official help in doing what we want to do.  It's easy to see that everything is more difficult and everything takes longer in both countries if Cuban and American cooperation is involved.

In both Florida and Havana live two warring camps—those who want normalization between the two countries and those who don't.  I decided a long time ago not to take sides in those political fights, as it is easy to make enemies

I just wish someone could show me how this bitter dispute has helped even one person on either side or how it has helped even one sick, stray dog begging for food in a Havana public park.

Les Inglis

                                                                    Malecon

Mala Agua

You have to hand it to Diana Nyad, the 64 year old long distance swimmer who on Labor Day was the first person ever to complete a Cuba to US marathon swim without the protection of a shark cage.  Diana offers us all an object lesson in perseverance.  She first tried and failed in 1978, and finally succeeded on her fifth attempt thirty five years later.

A friend, speaking for Diana, said she wanted to send a message of peace, love, friendship, and happiness to the people of the US and Cuba.

Well said, Diana, I say, and congratulations too.

One of the worst hazards in the cross-straits swim is stinging from jellyfish.  They had stopped her before, but this time a partial face mask helped her to success.  Thinking about her feat, I was reminded of a little walk I took one day from my hotel in Havana,

I headed north on Avenida de los Presidentes, and in two blocks I was at the Malecon, Havana's seaside highway.  Built in the early twentieth century the Malecon is a wide coastal expressway separated from the sea by a four foot high splash wall.  Sometimes when the surf is up, the waves break against the wall and the large rocks below causing huge displays of spray that dwarf even large trucks on the street.  On rare occasions high surf closes the street.

In quieter weather, the top of the wall is a spot to sit, sun, read, talk to friends, cuddle with a lover, or fish.  In a way, the Malecon is a park for Havana's people.

I stood by the wall looking down at several fishermen, perched on the rocks working at fishing like the serious business it is.  They were after tonight's dinner for their families.  I noticed a number of filmy objects that looked like surgeon's gloves floating in the slightly choppy water.  They looked strange to me, and I yelled in my gringo accented Spanish to the men below to ask what they were.

"Agua mala," answered one man—that meant "bad water" in English—but it was apparently their way of saying jellyfish.  I understood right away those gelatinous blobs were something to avoid.  Certainly one would not want to swim when they are present.  There are so many of them at certain times of the year that even the Havana kids stay out of the water.

I was only a few miles east of Marina Hemingway where Diana Nyad started her record setting swim.  I was about 90 miles from where she finished it.

And I was a million miles from the home sweet home I'm used to.

Thanks, Diana, for helping us to see that our two countries aren't really so far apart.

Les Inglis

                                                              Pablo at LAX

                                                           Pablo and Housemates

                                                         Pablo on th4e Beach at Malibu

Pablo at Home

Pablo at Home

I love the story of Pablo and his rescue from Havana's Central Park.  Maybe that's why I've devoted three previous blogs to his saga.  I thought I had written the last about Pablo, but Amanda, his new adoptive mother, spurred me into action once again when I opened a new email from her.  Three appended pictures from that email are shown above the text of this blog.

One pic shows Amanda's living room and Pablo's companions in Amanda's home.  You can tell from the neat, stylish furnishings that Amanda is a good homemaker, and her other healthy-looking dogs suggest Pablo will get really good care in his new home in Los Angeles.

The pic in the car is Pablo as he appeared on arrival at the Los Angeles airport after his 2500 mile trip.  His noble long nose is especially evident in this photo.

And finally, Amanda's and my favorite shot, Pablo romping on the beach at Malibu.  After months of living in a foster home without a chance to run free in a park or on a beach, Amanda lost no time in getting him to the beach.  And, if we never get a message from another dog, this picture clearly communicates that Pablo loves his new existence.  It's as close a depiction of pure joy as we could have.

I'm so happy for Pablo and Amanda I could cry.

Les Inglis

                            
                                                       19 Century Military Hardware

Point of View

The last years of the 19th century were filled with exercises of power for the United States and its Caribbean neighbors.  Above all, Cuba was affected by strong US colonialist leanings.  While many would resist calling the US a colonial power, that era had the effect of spreading US power for the benefit of the US nation.  It seemed as if the US, through application of gunboat diplomacy, was set on a course of acquiring and maintaining hegemony over foreign lands.

In the late 1890's, the Spanish colony of Cuba was fighting its third war of independence against its Spanish rulers.  This war was going better for the Cubans than the first two wars.  While Cuba made gains on the ground, in 1898, the world was shocked by the sinking of the US battleship Maine in Havana's harbor with the loss of 268 lives.  It seemed most likely the Maine was sunk by the Spaniards, but some felt the Cubans did it to bring the US into the war.  To this day, there is not universal agreement on who did it, despite many investigations.

But the US entered the war, and that entry spelled defeat for Spain.  Spain had once been among the most successful colonial powers in the world with huge holdings in North and South America and in the Pacific.  By the late 19th century, it had fallen on hard times, and their former success had devolved into a hodge-podge of rebellious colonies and former colonies.  They had already lost all of South America, stripping the continent clean of their influence.  In the Western Hemisphere Spain was left with only Cuba and Puerto Rico under the Spanish fist.

The most famous part of the Spanish American War was surely Teddy Roosevelt's Rough Riders taking San Juan Hill, but the decisive naval victories really won the war.  Spain's navy was old, poorly maintained, short on coal, preoccupied with European rivalries, and completely overmatched by the modern US fighting ships.  Beyond Cuba, decisive US wins in Puerto Rico and The Philippines settled the fate of Spain as a colonial power.

The US occupied Cuba for five years for five years after the Treaty of Paris, which stopped the war.  Finally the US used its power to exact a new treaty called the Platt Amendment.  That treaty gave the US the right to intervene militarily in Cuba if it (the US) took a dim view of foreign or domestic events.  Cuba could not contract debt to a foreign country without US approval.  Also, we compelled the granting of perpetual occupancy of a naval base on the island.  That occupancy continues to this day as the naval base at Guantanamo.

Thus the 20th century began with Cuba free of Spanish rule but with severe new restrictions giving the US say so over foreign relationships.  In the decades after the end of the war, the US saw fit to intervene with troops at least three times.  A late as 1917, the US intervened with troops sometimes after corrupt elections had installed Cuban leaders not to US liking.

Recently, when I started reading about the Spanish American War, I began with my standard high school American History class's understanding of the war and its aftermath.  Needless to say, my high school teachers didn't devote much time to how we got into the war or what happened after the war.  They surely didn't lead my class and me to an appreciation of how all this looks to Latinos all over the Caribbean, Central, and South America.

In my view as an American schoolboy, we had really helped the Cubans.  We ended the Spanish mistreatment of Cuba.  On the sinking of the USS Maine, we entered the war on Cuba's side and made short work of "freeing" the country.  Also on Cuba's behalf we punished Spain not only by "freeing" Cuba, but also by kicking the Spanish out of Puerto Rico and Guam, and we forced them to sell the Philippines to us at a bargain price.  We drove the final nails in the coffin of Spanish colonialism in the Western Hemisphere

The war and the win were the stuff of Teddy Roosevelt's dreams, and his popularity, along with William McKinley's assassination, propelled him into the White House and to a place on Mount Rushmore.  Toward Cuba, the US assumed the role of kindly old Uncle Sam, guiding Cuba on a path we prescribed.

However in a typical Latino's view, the US entry into Cuba's third war of independence was not really gratuitous.  The Latino would note that we waited three years after the start of the war until Cuba had almost won the fight.  We allowed the Cubans to do as much of the heavy fighting as we could, and then we applied naval power to finish the war off in our favor.  We used this war to start the US on a plan of colonial domination, and evidence of this is the huge percentage of Cuban businesses owned by Americans.  Even in 1959, when Castro's Revolution triumphed, US interests owned over 70 percent of Cuban enterprises.  Finally, our Latino observer would say, when the fighting stopped, we occupied the island for five years and then forced the Cubans to let the US intervene whenever it liked.  We also took, apparently in perpetuity, the 46 square mile Guantanamo naval base.

So what one thinks is colored by one's point of view.  A patriotic US kid would be justified to see the US involvement in the war as a friendly rescue mission, while  a Latino kid of the same age would see something far more sinister in Uncle Sam's trying to keep peace in the world.  If such opposed views can happen here in our own backyard, it's easy to imagine why large numbers of people in Egypt, Syria, Pakistan, and Iraq don't subscribe to our present day self-appointed role as world policeman.

Les Inglis

The Pablo Saga

                                                                              
                                                                      Pablo

The Pablo Saga

What makes a story into a saga?  Well, I guess it's the length.  In the case of Pablo, a Cuban street dog discovered in Havana's Central Park last October, the story of Pablo has been a saga for some time now.  I started a file on Amanda and Pablo last fall when Amanda found The Aniplant Project through our website, theaniplantproject.org .  Today that file contains 175 email messages—all about Pablo.  Pablo's story would be a common rehoming tale of a Cuban street dog if it weren't for a plethora of twists and turns, reverses and disappointments.  As I like to eat desert first, I'll tell you Pablo finally arrived safely at Amanda's home yesterday, August 3, 2013.

Pablo had been the subject of another blog in this series—one titled, "Pablo," in early November 2012.  That blog told the story of Amanda finding a vet in Havana to help the sick little dog, a mix up in meeting the vet to receive Pablo, Pablo's being given to a stranger, and Nora's search for him nailing up posters all over Central Havana.  By the time Nora found Pablo, Amanda had already flown back home to Los Angeles.

A group of regular bench sitters in the park seemed to be Pablo's custodians when Nora found him.  You just don't take an apparently stray dog until you're sure it doesn't have a human who cares about it.  This group of young men liked Pablo and tried to care for him, but they couldn't buy him food, and medical care was unattainable for them. Nora, using her widely known public persona as a radio lecturer on animal protection, was able to convince the park sitters that Pablo had a better future with her than loose in the park.

The next step was to find a foster home for the young dog, who needed lots of rehabilitation.  Fortunately a long time family friend (La Señora) wanted to care for him.  The downside was she was 95 years old and couldn't get out and about in Havana.  For Pablo's entire stay in the foster home, Nora brought him food from the Aniplant headquarters' dog kitchen every day.  That was no small task, as it required a bus ride to and from her visits with Pablo and La Señora.  Also, Nora took Pablo to his vet appointments.

For some rehomed strays, vet visits during their foster care are straightforward affairs—rabies shots, tests for diseases, parasites, inoculations, etc.  Not so for poor Pablo who had a terrible case of kennel cough.  Weeks dragged into months as the vet tried to fight off Pablo's infection.  It was taking so long, I was afraid Amanda would give up hope of adopting him.  But Amanda, Nora, and the vet were persistent, and at long last he was healthy, and we could begin planning his travel to California.

Enter Davis Hawn, a friend of mine who loves dogs and has a Master's Degree in training service dogs.  Davis has been to Cuba twice and is planning to establish a service dog training center in Cuba.  To that end he had granted two scholarships for young Cuban adults to take a six week summer course in training dogs at Bergin University near Napa Valley in California.  June 24 was the date the two students were supposed to travel to the US for their course work.  Nora suggested that one of the students, Betty, could bring Pablo from Havana to Miami in a carrier with her baggage.  It seemed ideal.  In Miami, Amanda who was returning from a trip to Paris France, could unite with Pablo, and, after a day or so of getting to know each other, they could fly on to Los Angeles to begin Pablo's new life.  (Other blogs in this series are: "Man's Best Friend" of January 2013 and"The Booster center" of June 2013.)

So, on June 24, early in the morning Nora, Pablo, the students, and their families gathered to see them off at Jose Marti International Airport when the airline gave Betty and Nora an onerously worded release form to sign where the airline would take no responsibility for Pablo's safety.  Briefly conferring with the airport vet, a friend of Nora's, they found out there had been "mishaps" with some dogs shipped as baggage with Cuban travelers who were planning to return later to Cuba.  Perhaps it was a way to persecute Cuban travelers who might be trying to defect to the US by simply staying there and not returning to Cuba at all.  After all, why would a short term visitor to the US need to bring his or her dog along for the trip?  Sensing danger, the group of students and family members unanimously decided Pablo was too valuable to risk possible political shenanigans, and Nora kept Pablo in Cuba.

Poor Amanda, after 8 months of waiting, she's at Miami Airport where she never sees Betty and finally gets the word she has to go home without Pablo.  In addition to all the arranging, the wasted money was a blow.  I knew Nora would at once begin a plan to get Pablo here, but Amanda must have been beginning to wonder if we were all a bunch of incompetents.

It wasn't very long until Nora told us Pablo would travel to the US on August 2.  This time I knew there would be no disappointments, as she let me know Pablo would be accompanying the wife of Spain's Ambassador to Cuba and their daughter.  As the reader may know, diplomats travel much better than regular people.  Their tickets, their baggage, their clearances through Customs and Immigration are efficient, perfunctory, without waiting in lines, and deferential.  Thus, Pablo would arrive in the US as a VIP.

Davis offered to meet Pablo in Miami so Amanda wouldn't have to fly clear across the country twice to get him home, and Amanda happily agreed.  Davis had been in constant contact with several airlines as he made plans for The Booster Center—the new Cuban training facility.  He had to fly specially selected pups into Cuba for the Center, and now he was planning for Pablo's flight to the west coast.

Airlines are often difficult to deal with, and, with regard to dogs, they are especially idiosyncratic.  Some embargo moving live animals in the hottest months.  Midsummer in Havana is especially hot.  Some allow very small dogs in the passenger cabin, and they are all afraid of a mishap harming someone's loved companion.  All have health certificate requirements, and some in the US require these to be in English.  The vet in Havana made the original certificates out in Spanish.  To make matters worse. It's hard to talk with live people in authority in an airline.  But Davis had to know the rules to make travel plans.  A few days before Pablo's flight, Davis sent two Golden Retriever pups back to Cuba with Betty who graduated from Bergin University's summer program.  Davis' tolerance for abuse is higher than mine, and he eventually pinned down all the requirements for Betty's flights and for the ongoing flight of Pablo.  That required picking up Pablo at midday in Miami, and getting him to a vet in Ft. Lauderdale to redo his health certificate in English for his 7 am flight to California.

So the Ambassador's wife was at a ticket counter with Pablo and another dog traveling from Aniplant to Tampa when Davis spotted her about two hours sooner than he had expected (Being a VIP, she had skipped all the lines for Customs and Immigration.)  Davis took Pablo to the vet and then his hotel, and at 4 am he arrived at Delta's cargo office in Fort Lauderdale, where Pablo went to sleep for his  5 hour flight to LAX.

We were in sporadic phone contact with Amanda as she waited for Pablo's flight.  The plane had left Florida 50 minutes late, so we were all beginning to imagine problems, but other than landing about an hour late, it was a routine flight and Amanda and a robustly healthy and happy Pablo were reunited ten months after she fell in love with a sick little dog in a Cuban park.

Les Inglis

                                                  

                                                                       Peachy

Pura Raza

Americans usually think of Cuba as having a sick economy, lots of poverty, and few luxuries.  It seems almost incongruous that Cuba could have an active group of purebred dog fanciers.  Once a year Cuba hosts a judged dog show attracting people from many other countries.

I too found the interest in purebreds somewhat surprising, but in my several trips to Cuba I have met members of the Doberman and Rottweiler clubs and the president of the Boxer club.  No matter what our foregone conclusions about Cuba might be, purebred dog fanciers abound in Cuba.

Among the 13 dogs Charlene and I have had, only three were AKC registered purebreds, and we never had the AKC certificate on any of them.  We really didn't care about the certificates, as it wouldn't have made any difference to us if our dogs were registered or not.  Still, as I gaze at my study walls where each of them has a framed photo, I can see echoes of purebred ancestors in many of them.  I use the breed names merely to describe them, not to try to distinguish their ancestry.  In the order we acquired them, let me introduce you to them:

1.     Annie was a 15 inch Beagle who adopted us when she came up out of the Ohio River banks to join us as we restored our old farmhouse.

2.     Boy was a perfect German Shepherd abandoned and starving.  We found him living under a pile of lumber in our barn.

3.     Roscoe looked a little like an Airedale with reddish wiry fur.  Charlene found him walking the road in front of our farm during a rainstorm.

4.     Yo-yo was a beautiful tri-color American Fox Hound who became the light of our lives.

5.     Spotty was a small bird dog like so many who bred casually on the farms in our area.

6.     Pepe was a black purebred miniature poodle, acquired from some people who ignored and mistreated him.  He lived with Charlene's mother for years and finally came to live with us. He lived to 16 years of age.

7.     Casey was a Wheaten Terrier, possibly purebred as we got her from a Wheaten Club rescue group.

8.     Hope was given to us by our vet.  She had been savagely attacked, causing the loss of one eye.  She had long curly scraggly fur and loved living out her life in a good home where she was loved.

9.     Velcro was a white Cock-a Poo, as gentle as a lamb.  She was found at the bridge to our island in a rainstorm by the bridge tender.  Velcro had lung cancer when we found her, but she stayed with us for 13 happy months.

10.  Peachy is a huge Golden Doodle, bigger at 100 pounds than any other we've had.  She to delights us every day of our lives.

11.  Danny was my soul mate, a Border Collie who clearly was the smartest dog we ever had.  He was 9 when his owner died, and we adopted him.  He played catch with me daily, and left us at age 13.

12.  Princess is half Golden Retriever and half something else.  She is white with a faint touch of gold, and she makes us laugh every day.

13.  Nala, a small mixed breed girl, perhaps with a little Dachshund in her and otherwise of unknown provenance.  Not here long, but loved and cherished.

That's quite an inventory of love, devotion, companionship and happiness.  Most could have been purebred judging by their looks, but few came from such fussy backgrounds.  Is the list finished?  I hope not, although Charlene and I have reached an age when we need to downsize our commitments a little.  I do know that if another dog joins our family, it is highly unlikely it will come with "papers."

Les Inglis

                                                           An Aniplant Clinic

Steps toward a Better Life

The world is hardly rosy and the living is hardly easy for the average Cuban today, but it's better than it used to be, and it's easy to predict still better times ahead.  That’s a hopeful situation for the man on the street and for his dog, who lives on leftovers from his master's table.

Since my first trip there in 2005 I have noticed a creeping improvement in people's lives and in their future prospects.  In 2005 there were lots of rigid rules that restricted the lives of citizens.  For example, a Cuban citizen then could not stay at a first class hotel, although there are many such hotels and they scramble to stay full of tourists from Canada and Europe.  You might say, "Well, Cubans don't have the resources to spend on fancy hotels anyway," and you'd be right for the most part, but the rules hurt anyway.  Those hotels, at least in part, are government enterprises, supposedly owned by the people, but the people couldn't stay in them.

Then a small door opened, and the rules were changed to to allow citizens to stay in the hotels.  This probably only really affected a small percentage of people, but we must crawl before we can walk.  The leaders were on to something, and rule relaxation wouldn't just stop with hotels.  Next, Cubans were told they could have cell phones in a reversal of old strictures.  Well, that was no baby step, and people could soon be seen using them at bus stops, while walking on sidewalks, in parks—you name the place and cell phones were there.  How did they pay for Cuba's high telephone charges?  Well, phone prices and monthly fees were subsidized by loving relatives living in other countries.  Cubans began to save steps, trips, time, and money using the convenience of a phone in your purse or pocket.

When I first visited, paladars (privately owned restaurants improvised from a room in the owner's house) were already feeding tourists, but the rules severely limited their size to 12 seats.  Many paladars were built on the front porch of city houses, but a hard working restaurateur could make much more than the Cuban's average salary of $19.00 US a month.  Like restaurants everywhere, good ones are crowded and poor ones fail, but with a 12 seat limit, Cuba wasn't going to develop any Wolfgang Pucks.

Then, in a wave of relaxation, the government let the paladars expand by killing the 12 seat limit.  The last time I was there, we ate in such an expanded paladar.  It had expanded into several rooms in the basement area also using the original front porch seating.  The place was pretty full, and there was a buzz of conversation, background music, and clinking dishes and glasses that suggested a thriving enterprise.  It doesn't take a Peter Drucker to know that if 12 seats can make money, 50 will make lots more.

But the best was yet to come.  A couple of years back, Cuba finally dumped the myth that the government owned all the houses and cars.  The old rule was that you could live in your house or trade houses with someone else, but it wasn't yours to sell.  If you left the country it would be taken over by the state.  More recently, in a move that surprised many people, a new rule said you could sell the house you lived in and your car (often old US cars from the 1950's), and the money was yours to keep and use.

Wow! All of a sudden many people had a sense of well being and optimism.  In a very few months, driving down the street you could see painters, carpenters, and cement masons at work repairing and sprucing up the houses.  No longer was maintenance deferred because it was the government's responsibility.  Real value was being added, sometimes by sweat equity, and more people were working.  Today, demand for construction work has made their pay better than ever, and the incipient slum look is beginning to disappear from neighborhoods.

There is an old joke among the Cubans that the government pretends to pay its workers (with devalued old Pesos), and the workers pretend to work.  Be that as it may, as workers leave state payrolls and enter a range of permitted private businesses, there's no pretending to work among the entrepreneurs  who are rekindling a growing and productive middle class.

And let's not forget Rover, the family dog, who eats what's left from the dinner table.  Lately he's learned that a rising tide lifts all boats as the quality of his meals improves.

Les Inglis

                                                               
                                                                        Annie

Dogs in the Sky

For several years we maintained two homes, a non-working farm in Indiana and our house in Florida.  We traveled back and forth from one to the other as the mood struck us.  Until late 1990 the farm was our permanent home and the house in Florida was used for getaways and little vacations.  This was early in our marriage, and Annie was a rescued 15" beagle—our first dog.

We thought it would be unfair to Annie to board her in a kennel during our several trips to Florida each year, so we decided to get a carrier and take Annie with us on the planes.  I must say Annie was a veteran flyer in no time.  She'd walk into the airport on her leash without showing the least sign of apprehension.  We always gave her a long drink of water to last her through the 2 hour flight, and then when it was time, we opened the carrier door and Annie happily and voluntarily walked into the carrier, curled up on the little blanket inside, and prepared for the journey.  After her first flight, she knew what was to be expected, and I'm guessing she slept most of the way, just the way she did on a quiet afternoon at home.

We flew without much worry about Annie.  Granted, riding in the baggage compartment wouldn't be very pleasant for you or me, but Annie had what she needed—a toy, her blanket, and plenty of space in the carrier.  Her carrier rode up the ramp to the luggage area, and sometimes I watched from my window seat on the plane.

One trip back from Tampa to Cincinnati did give us some worries about her safety.  Tampa wasn't the most convenient airport for us—Sarasota was—but Tampa offered non-stop service, and we didn't want to take a chance that she wouldn't get transferred to a second plane in a plane change in Atlanta.  All seemed fine as we checked Annie in, and we watched her ride the conveyer behind the check-in desks into the baggage handling area.  We flew home comfortably knowing Annie was in an air conditioned and pressurized baggage compartment, probably right below our seats.

But when we got to Cincinnati it took much longer than usual for her carrier to appear on the carrousel.  When we finally saw the carrier, we were relieved, but I noticed another baggage tag had been added to the original one.  It seemed she had made the trip to Cincinnati on a different plane from the one we were on.  We never heard why the switch, but since it all ended well, there was no harm done.

I never had any fears she could be lost, as the carrier was well marked with her name and ours.  It also carried a Delta Frequent Flyers' Club tag, which is supposed to get you a little better service on Delta.  Also Annie was never without her collar which had identification tags.  I think that time might have been before microchips.

Many people have mentioned the danger to dogs flying as luggage.  We've all seen the trains of baggage carts baking in the sun on an airport apron.  I'm told live animals get priority treatment by the baggage handlers to avoid overheating them in the summer.  Some airlines serving southern cities will not accept animals in carriers during the summer.

These days we live in one place all the time.  It suits us to be home-bodies, and our dogs are quiet, stay-at-home types.  And it's a good thing too, because these days the airline industry is so huge, impersonal, and computerized that I'm not sure I want to transport the canine members of my family as baggage.

Les Inglis

The Booster Center

Davis Hawn is an interesting guy.  I first met him via email when he was trying to arrange a trip to Cuba—he'd done some Internet surfing and found the TAP website.  Well, getting to Cuba isn't all that tough, even in view of the US legal restrictions on travel, but Davis had an odd twist on his trip plans—he wanted to take his dog Booster to Cuba with him.

Booster is a service dog, well trained to help Davis with his PTSD.  As a service dog, Booster is with Davis 24-7.  Davis found Booster when he was a stray puppy cowering in the cab when he claimed his pick-up truck from an impound lot.  It was a lucky break for both of them.

Well, we corresponded about his trip and I connected him with Nora at Aniplant.  Her contacts were invaluable to him, and she helped him get a documentary about service dogs filmed and produced in Cuba.  Davis is a very publicity minded person about service dogs, and the documentary was a natural step in his desire to promote the use of service dogs.

Davis adopted a Cuban stray dog he found on Havana's main shopping street, Obispo Street.  He named the dog Fidelity. Nora found Fidelity a foster home for several weeks and got him the veterinary care needed to put him in top certified condition for his eventual trip to the US.  It took some arranging to get Fidelity to the US.  With the help of a couple of fine Canadian-based organizations dedicated to rehoming Caribbean dogs to Canada, Fidelity first flew to Toronto from Varadero.  There he met Davis who flew him to Chicago and eventually to New Orleans near Davis' home.

Booster, being a service dog, needed no such elaborate arrangements.  He didn't even need a travel carrier or to be placed in the baggage compartment for his return from Cuba.  Service dogs, under US law, can travel in the passenger cabin with their owners.  With both of his dogs back home, Davis concentrated on getting his Master's Degree from Bergin University in the San Francisco area. Bergin educates dog trainers, offering a full scholastic program for that purpose.  I was privileged to provide a review of Davis' Master's Degree Thesis.

Now Davis is using his Cuban contacts to start something called The Booster Center in Cuba.  It will be a service dog training organization to help the disabled in Cuba.  Davis has provided scholarships for two Cuban students to prepare themselves at Bergin U. to operate The Booster Center.  Those students, Miguel and Beatriz, are currently in California enrolled in Bergin for that training.  It took two years to make all the arrangements for the students' trips to the US, but after countless emails, they are here and immersed in their studies.

A carefully selected, fully trained service dog is a very valuable animal.  He or she becomes the central object in the life of a person who really needs help with the daily problems of living.  They sense problems and perform tasks like opening doors and provide emotional support and companionship.  If Cuba can develop the Booster Center according to Davis' plans, it will be improving the situations of many people, making their lives more productive and less difficult.

Davis clearly has a knack for building on the age old symbiotic relationship between humans and dogs.

Les Inglis

Climbing in Cuba

For most of us city dwellers, tall buildings are no big deal.  They abound in cities, and in the normal course of events we never see their stairways.  We use elevators as a matter of course.  Now I've heard of people who voluntarily take to the stairs for several flights to get their exercise, and I can see that would be  a pretty good workout, but it's not for me.  I'll take the elevator every time.

The summer I was 18, it was different.  I took a train to Washington DC for a little sightseeing.  When I got to the Washington Monument, there was a long line of tourists queued up to ride the elevators to the pinnacle, the highest point in the city.  The wait was about two hours.  In those days my energy was only exceeded by my impatience, and I discovered I could bypass the line and use the stairs to get to the top.  I started off two steps at a time.

Well, 555 feet (about the equivalent of a fifty story building) is lots of climbing, and after a few floors I settled down to a more sedate pace, but I eventually reached the top without having to stop to catch my breath.  But that was then and this is now when I couldn't hope to show such endurance.

On my first trip to Cuba I saw how the other half lives.  Havana has its share of tall buildings with the tallest at 37 floors.  Most of the tall ones run about 10 to 15 stories.  In a Communist country, the real estate belongs to the state, and so it is in Cuba.  Along with owning the buildings, the state is responsible for their elevators which in Cuba are under-maintained.  This means that in Cuba at any given time many buildings have non-working elevators as they wait for scant service or repair parts or sometimes complete replacements.

Talk about inconvenience!  To live or work on the eighth floor when the elevator doesn't work can be a big pain in the neck.  Aniplant's headquarters in 2005 and 2006 was an eighth floor apartment in a building with a broken elevator.  It had been that way for a long time, so on my second trip four of us took to the stairs.  I was fifteen or more years older than most of the others, but I kept up with them, and at the top, I was no more worn out than the others.  That experience put helping Aniplant get a new ground floor home at the top of our priorities.

Nora, Aniplant's President, lives in one of the better tall buildings in Havana near the top of the hill in Vedado.  She's on the 10th floor with a great view of the city and the sea and the building (1950's era) has two elevators with spotty service records.  More than once I've encountered elevators that didn't work and had to climb 10 floors with packages of supplies and donations of medicines.  On one trip, the lift was out and Nora told me the building was getting new replacement elevators.  Sure enough at the next trip the new elevators gleamed, free of graffiti and ready to lift silently one and all along with their luggage.

Thanks to broken elevators I've also climbed flights of stairs at Radio Progresso, Cuba's main radio station, more than one office building, and even a few times at my hotel which, at 11 floors was once (in the 1920's) Cuba's tallest building.

When you're visiting Havana you become aware there are fewer obese people in Cuba than there are here at home.  I always thought that was because of high food prices and low food supplies.

Maybe so, but for many it might also be caused by the extra exercise one gets when forced to by-pass broken elevators.

Les Inglis