For many homeless people, home is where their animals are.
And dozens of those pets will live longer — thanks to a free pop-up clinic offered at one of Denver's new shelters Thursday.
As their companions filled out short forms, pets waited, mostly patiently and somewhat confused, for services.
The clinic included a parvo/distemper and rabies vaccination, food, new halters and pee pads, compliments of the Denver Animal Protection community engagement team and Denver Mayor Mike Johnston’s initiative to house 1,000 people by 2024.
The location for the clinic was the New Directions homeless shelter in Northeast Denver, which used to be a Best Western hotel.
Bom-bom, Seven and Happy-Do got their shots and some treats for their troubles in a hotel-conference-room-turned-veterinary-stop. Despite the endless carpeted space, there appeared to be no potty accidents.
And there were no fights or toothy snarls witnessed.
“This means more than words can say,” said Heather Kosack after she voiced a half-a-dozen “good girls” to her German Shepard–Labrador Retriever mix Enola Rae, who had just gotten poked on her back side by a DAP worker. “I must have missed a history class because I had never heard of the Enola Gay when I gave her that name.”
(The Enola Gay was the WWII B-29 Superfortress bomber, the first aircraft to drop an atomic bomb in warfare).
Kosack may not have realized the significance of her dog’s name, but she did not miss the class on how to survive being homeless, and neither did any of the other pet owners, who know that preventable diseases on the streets can threaten the lives of their animals.
Homeless shelters are becoming more likely to accept pets. The problem is that forcing pets together in a small space can mean not only the chance for disease but also territorial fights.
As many as one in four homeless people have a pet, which amounts to around 125,000 animals living in shelters and outdoors, according to a group called Pets of the Homeless.
Rachel Bliss lived in a car with her Himalayan, Pocket, for a year after a rocky divorce and spent a lot of the money she had on vet bills when the beautiful long-haired cat became ill and eventually died.
An employer then gave her a tiny silver Yorkie-Poo puppy named Kiss, which is what he does, very politely, to everyone he meets.
“Kiss just loves everyone,” said Bliss. Kiss, who seems part cat, is her first dog.
To homeless people, pets mean a reason to get up in the morning because “they need you and that makes you feel important.”
As she checked in three Maltese Terriers, Denver Animal Shelter volunteer Brittan Gregoire explained that, for someone who has limited funds for food and shelter, expensive vaccinations aren’t the top priority.
“Parvo is deadly for puppies. It makes me happy we can help,” Gregoire said.
For Rachel Bliss and Kiss — they moved into a Denver city-run apartment two weeks ago — life has gotten better because of services from Denver’s new administration. Kiss is protected from disease, has some delicious treats and the tiniest new halter.
And, once she’s established, Rachel plans to get a job working with animals because, she said, “if you don’t have more than two legs, I don’t trust you.”
