A passion for rescue: Meet the people dedicated to helping Alaska's mistreated pets

Across Alaska, a vast network of volunteers pours time and resources into rescuing abandoned and abused pets that might otherwise be left for dead. Individuals and groups nurse horses back to health; foster and care for unwanted birds; and fill gaps where state and municipal resources are lacking. Meet a few Alaskans for whom animal rescue is among the greatest of passions.

Alaska Equine Rescue

The volunteers at Alaska Equine Rescue thought Kid wouldn't make it. The 4-year-old stallion arrived at Heather Robb's home in September hundreds of pounds underweight and suffering from a severely swollen jaw.

"It was grim," said Robb, president of the Wasilla-based nonprofit.

Reports of a malnourished horse in the Interior community of Delta had taken Alaska State Troopers to the house where Kid was discovered. The animal was so malnourished the owner had created a makeshift system strapping him to the rafters so he could stand up, Robb said.

Kid was surrendered by the owner and turned over to Alaska Equine Rescue, but his health problems were severe. He had an unusual gait, and his swollen jaw was due to a baby tooth cap that had failed to fall off as he matured, likely due to malnourishment. Surgery for that tooth would have been $6,000, far too much for the rescue organization to afford, said Kellie Ballard, the group's vice president.

At Robb's home, Kid was nursed back to a healthy weight. Along the way, the baby tooth fell out, but that left behind an infection at the tooth's root. Again, his life was threatened. And again, he pulled through.

"He has kind of beat all the odds. He definitely wants to live," Robb said.

In the months that Kid has been at Alaska Equine Rescue, he has gained 400 pounds. His brown- and white-spotted coat is shiny and healthy, and he's even grown a few inches. Robb says he's a special horse. He's up for adoption now, and he'll need to go to the right home.

"He should be really a therapy horse," Robb said. "He doesn't really like to work hard. He wants to cuddle."

Kid's successful rescue is just one of dozens performed annually by Alaska Equine Rescue, a volunteer organization composed of a handful of Southcentral Alaska residents and the only nonprofit equine rescue organization in the state. Robb and Ballard say the endeavor is far more time-consuming than their day jobs.

The group also focuses on education. Sometimes, people just don't know what a healthy weight looks like on a horse, or what's best for an animal's psychology, Robb said.

Sometimes, people keep horses even when they don't have the resources to care for the animal. "We kind of quit asking why a long time ago," Ballard said. Instead, the women try to approach each situation without judgment.

Rescuing horses brings moments of elation and despair. There are success stories — as in Kid's case — but there are times when, despite the group's efforts, a horse must be euthanized. They are "fighting an uphill battle," Ballard said. When times get tough, the two women lean on each other.

Occasionally they still feel as if they're not doing enough. While their efforts may only save a few of the horses in need, such as Kid, "for him, it's the world," Robb said.

— Laurel Andrews

Friends of Pets

In 1989, Anchorage Animal Care and Control needed help. More than 10,000 animals cycled through its doors that year, and without the space or manpower to care for them, around 60 percent were euthanized.

"They really saw a need," said Michele Girault, who co-founded Friends of Pets that year with three other women.

The Friends of Pets headquarters in Midtown Anchorage doubles as an office, storage space and, sometimes, an animal shelter. One day in June, a tall stack of pet beds threatened to teeter onto a large conference table, while animal carriers crowded near the front door. One cat was curled up in a sheltered corner; another greeted visitors at the door.

Girault explained the nonprofit works with the city to help find homes for animals that would otherwise be ineligible for adoption — animals who are ill or have behavioral issues. Animal control can't adopt those animals out, so Friends of Pets takes them in and tries to rehabilitate them before finding them a home.

Nearly 3,000 rescued cats and dogs have been given homes through Friends of Pets since the organization was founded, Girault said. But "re-homing" animals is just one aspect of the nonprofit's work.

Every month, the organization helps pay for spay and neuter operations. A sanctuary program partners foster homes with animals suffering medical issues, and Friends of Pets pays the medical bills. The organization also takes in the pets of women staying at the Abused Women's Aid in Crisis shelter.

"We hope that's made a difference for someone being able to leave situations that they otherwise would not leave because they didn't know where their pet was going to go," Girault said. It's "one more barrier lifted."

In past years, Friends of Pets has also partnered with state agencies to give "first strike" presentations, teaching the public the family pet often suffers first in domestic violence.

Girault used to give presentations at schools about the connection between animal cruelty and violence toward humans. "There (were) so many kids that would come up to me and say 'Can I tell you what my dad does to the dog?'" Girault said, shaking her head.

While she says people take animal cruelty more seriously than they did decades ago, there's still work to be done. She noted a case in Anchorage in which a pit bull was found hanging with its throat slit in October.

Despite devastating stories like that, Girault says she is able to steel herself against emotional strain.

"I can put it in a box. … It energizes me to be able to make something happen in a positive way," Girault said.

Her role as president is as demanding as a full-time job, Girault said. She also works full time at Hope Community Resources. It doesn't bother her, though. "Passion doesn't feel like work," she said.

— Laurel Andrews

Bird rescuer Amber Morris

The lower level of Amber Morris' Airport Heights home is filled with the warbles, chirps, squawks and shrieks of six parrots and parakeets.

There are two African grey parrots, one given up by a retired couple and another she's babysitting; a green-cheeked conure that hollers when its keeper leaves the room; two small parakeets that were rescued outdoors in Anchorage, where they otherwise might have fallen victim to dehydration or hungry magpies; and there's Morris' own bronze-winged pionus, a parrot species, she has raised since it was a baby and might live 50 years.

Morris, vice president of the Alaska Bird Club and a one-woman adoption and lost-and-found department for the group, says fostering birds is not a normal club function. Its focus is education. Inevitably, though, she and other members house birds as Morris seeks out a new home for them. That keeps her busy. Some months she can work to re-home just a couple birds, other months as many as 10.

"You'd be surprised at how many birds come through," she said.

Morris, a bird keeper for more than 20 years, understands why people seek them out as pets. Parrots are intelligent and display fascinating behavior, she said. They're capable of solving puzzles and mimicking speech. And they can be affectionate companions, perching on shoulders and nuzzling beak-to-cheek.

But too often, prospective owners aren't considering the birds' challenging aspects, particularly large birds. They can be the loudest screamers, the hardest biters, make the biggest messes and, in many cases, are likely to outlive their keepers.

New roommates are sometimes unwelcome.

"Birds can be really possessive of people, and they'll go after the partner," Morris said. "You get a new husband or wife, and your bird decides that that person is enemy number one — who you going to get rid of? Sometimes people break up with the person and keep the bird, but generally it's the bird who goes."

Keeping birds and people out of that predicament is one of the bird club's missions. New bird owners should start small. Consider a parakeet — that's the best choice for a beginner, Morris said. People whose heart is set on a cockatoo or macaw should consider writing the animal into their will. They could live 80 to 90 years.

Morris said she's buoyed by stories of birds living happily with new, properly prepared families. Without good guidance, she's certain, birds will repeatedly end up in the wrong homes.

"Birds are a lot easier to kill than dogs and cats are, and a lot easier to neglect," Morris said. "There are people who will just shove them in a closet or in a garage because they're being loud and they don't have anyplace to put them. So I do this for the birds. If the bird's happy, I'm happy."