Day 25 - Indiana - Project HOME Indy

Stayed with family, though we still spent a moment figuring out exactly who was related to whom. Visited the gutted structure that, once completed, will house Project HOME Indy, a family house for 6 parenting or pregnant teen girls and their children. Walked through the structure, heard the design plans and visualized the end result. Magnificent. Drove a U-haul around Indianapolis to collect donations from a variety of donors, both corporate and individual, including faucets, a vanity, desks, fire extinguishers, mattresses and cribs. Witnessed the foundations of a growing organization.

Day 24 - Kentucky - Olmsted Park Conservancy

Fingers chilled while in gloves and toes numb despite wooly socks and boots, we navigated Cherokee Park in Louisville, spotting Garlic Mustard and pinching it, roots and all, from the soil. Traversing the park with the Olmsted Park Conservancy, our movement sustaining our warmth, we hunted the invasive plant, finding along asphalt paths, where the ground had hardened, resulting in a few snapped roots. We collected trash, remnants of a recent party, before removing vines that were threatening to strangle the trees.

Day 23 - Missouri - Haven House

Stayed overnight at Haven House, a home-like facility for families that travel to St. Louis for medical care, where we were welcomed warmly. Designed materials for the upcoming auction fundraiser, typing on opposing computers in a cool office, overlooking the snowy grounds. Spoke with one of the families in residence during lunch, before wiping down the cafeteria and venturing downtown to see the arch.

Day 22 - Arkansas - The Living Affected Corp

Watched the end of the Saints game in a sparsely populated Irish pub and cheered for a team we hadn’t intended on following. Drove through the downtown, noting Clinton building, after Clinton building, after Clinton building. Arrived at the Women’s Project, in which The Living Affected Corp is housed. Discussed the problems faced, the intersection between culture and accountability, the victories achieved, and the history of the HIV/AIDS movement in Little Rock.

Day 21 - Tennessee - Children's Museum of Memphis

Stayed with a complete stranger found on Betterthanthevan.com – felt absolutely radical trusting someone we didn’t expressly know. Drove past Graceland, dingy and depressed, like a faded poster that once boasted bright colors. Walked along the Mississippi, vast and muddy. Ate breakfast in silence due to a miscommunication – words were exacerbated by hunger and silence was heightened by the desire to hear our neighbor’s conversation. Staffed the supermarket and the bank at the Children’s Museum of Memphis, helping children restock shelves, check out, and cash checks for sixteen dollars worth of funny money. Picked up around the various exhibits, answered questions, and constructed paper airplanes to launch at targets. Felt like a kid again, if only for a moment.

Day 20 - Mississippi - CARA

White washed the inside of a donated trailer at CARA with a number of volunteers, covering the wooden walls with a thick coat of paint, making the interior to bright and clean. Held both of the tiny and tumbly puppies, and walked through the isles, saying “hello” to all the dogs, craving to take one home. Ate barbeque made by the undisputed barbeque king. Cleaned out the large storage room, scrubbing crates and rearranging supplies, making room for the planned maternity and isolation area.

Day 19 - Louisana - Project Lazarus

Ate course after course of homemade traditional New Orleans delicacies – crab cakes, etouffe, gumbo, barbeque shrimp (though not doused in the sauce or prepared on the grill, so I need help understanding the etymology). Staffed a resident house at Project Lazarus, a home for Louisiana men and women living with HIV/AIDS. Passed the time talking to residents, making the rounds, signing residents out then in, and catching up on work. Eighty degrees in the late afternoon, we sat, sharing beignets in the park before getting a beer on Bourbon St, walking around, faces pointed upwards, enjoying the sun and the architecture.

Day 18 - Florida - Appetite for Life

Stayed in our first hotel – the absolute quiet was strange. Baked huge sheets of pineapple upside down cake, brownies with walnuts, and individual birthday cakes at Appetite for Life in Pensacola. In addition to sumptuous treats, the organization provides nutritious, high quality meals at no charge to persons infected with or affected by HIV/ AIDS or other terminal illnesses. Treated to a tour of the beaches, but the fog rolled in, resulting in the sky blurring with the white sand, a blank canvas across which the buildings were painted.

Day 17 - Alabama - Waterfront Rescue Mission

Drove along the Eastern Shore in the early morning and stood on the pier overlooking the glass-flat water. Completed office work at the Waterfront Rescue Mission in Mobile, shredding old documents to make room for new. Helped serve lunch (beanie weenies, bread, and sweet tea) with a few men from the rehabilitation program to the transient population that visits for a hot mid-day meal. Caught in a deluge, soaked before we reached the car, and developed an understanding for why the area was so green.

Half the way there...

Well, we are half way done.

Yes indeedy - 25 down, 25 more to go.

In the the past month (almost, we are a whisper away from a full month on the road, so let us round up and be on with it), we have learned/observed a number of things, at least some (or maybe just one, short and sweet) of which I would like to share with you.

This country is beautiful, gorgeous in geography and in personality. She is the sly fox who saunters up to the bar, all confidence and hips. Yet, when she orders her drink (a root beer, wouldn't you know it), she smiles widely at the bartender, tips 40%, and then beats you, mercilessly, at pool. She is a force to be reckoned with, yet benevolent and gracious. You can't help but like her.

For all the faults, the shortcomings, and aggravations, we live in a country full of generosity. Full to the brim of passionate and creative people who are conceptualizing, planning, establishing...working toward making a difference.

"What difference?" you ask, flabbergasted at our happy-go-lucky, "I'd like a cherry on top" perspective. "I don't see a difference. I see things getting bad, if not worse."

Yes, things are bad. Uncomfortable. Down right awful for many people.

But, you know what, look harder. I am sorry, but where do we get reflecting on how terrible everything is without offering suggestions for change or highlighting all the wonderful things worth struggling for. So squint if you have to, pop a quarter in the pay-to-view telescope and examine the distant horizon. Heck, just keep your eyes open - really open. I promise you will find the "good". And if you can't find it, although I promise you will, go create some. We can always use more.

On to house-keeping issues - we (pardon my language) suck at this blogging thing. Terrible, awful, stink, fail. At this juncture, we believe it would behoove all of us involved if we just focused on getting a brief description of our day on paper, then go back and fill in the details. Please don't think we are shirking the organizations, or the overall trip, but we are now 9 days behind in blogging, but on-time in real time, so, we would like to let you know about all the volunteering we did in that gap. So, from this point forth, we will treat you to short descriptions daily, before venturing back to regale you with, long, overly descriptive tales woven into to inconsequential tales about our lives and interactions.

Sound good?

I will take that as a "yes".

Day 16 - Georgia - FurKids

Tim is not a fan of cats; actually, he is a pretty well established, card-carrying member of the anti-cat party. He may even run for office next year, under the slogan “Let this town go to the DOGS”. When asked for the reasoning behind his disdain for felines of all shapes and size, he reasons that cats are completely useless - they serve no real purpose. I guess everyone is entitled to his or her opinion.

Wait.

Hold up, Tim, have you met our dogs lately?

Not to be mean, because I am tremendous fans of the both of them and don’t want to hurt their feelings (especially, if they happen to be reading this, which I doubt), but what purpose do they serve? Tucker is quite the needy spaz (for lack of a better word), who will whimper, whine, and cry until picked up and tucked neatly on someone’s hip as they go about their errands around the house. “Oh, how cute!” you think. “ I wonder what kind of dog he is? Perhaps a jack russell. Maybe a Chihuahua. No I have it! He is a YORKIE!”

Nope, not even close – Tucker is a 50 lb lab. Well lab mix. But a lab. A lab that likes to be held like a toddler, laying his head across your shoulder, or perhaps tucking it softly at the nape of your neck. It is our collective fault, really; we picked him up and held him too often as a puppy. But, we keep telling him, if this behavior doesn’t stop, the other dogs will start to make fun of him. But he says he doesn’t care, then pouts, and begins to nasally whine. And, I am sure, if he had thumbs, this would be the point where he would lodge one in his mouth and continue to sulk.

Then there is Lola, the 9-year-old English bulldog. This old dame is kindly referred to as “Lola Burrito”, given she is compact, yet surprisingly dense, and has a certain penchant for Mexican food. Besides being a bulldog, which makes her a world champion sleeper, and being Tucker’s aloof playmate (I have almost bitten him by now to keep him from bothering me, so I have no idea how she withstands the urge), Lola is almost blind. I say almost, because sometimes, it is like she can see. She toddles along, plodding forward in her crooked, stunted gate. A confident swagger emerges.

But, just as you are feeling secure in her visual acuity (she seems to know where she is going!), she walks directly into a wall, resulting in her sitting down abruptly on the derrière she was just shaking. She jiggles her head around a bit before looking at you accusingly, as if to say “Why the hell did you leave that wall just laying around? I was trying to walk here! Jerk!” (This does shed some light on why tinfoil may be lining the walls of my apartment. No I am not protecting myself from aliens – I am protecting my dog from konking her head. Though she seems to pick up layouts quickly, tinfoil has been employed to make “proceed with extreme caution as to avoid smashing face against the wall” zones).

So, really, its not like either of these dogs are hunting, tracking, or pulling sleds.

Now, Shannon, she serves a purpose.

Shannon, who spends her time with the family we stayed with in Atlanta, between swanky trips to conferences around the country, of course, is a Canine Assist dog. Canine Assistants service dogs assist children and adults with physical disabilities or other special needs in a variety of ways, including: turning lights on and off, opening and closing doors, pulling wheelchairs, retrieving dropped objects, summoning help, and providing secure companionship. So when Shannon started showing off, you could say it was impressive. Or, you could say, “Oh lord, our dogs are more useless than we previously thought!”

Anyhow, Tim was still riding his Shannon-inspired “dogs are so cool” high when we arrived at FurKids to work with…(dare I say it)…CATS!

FurKids, begun as a network of foster homes conducting adoptions primarily through the Petsmart Perimeter location, now operates the largest cage-free cat shelter in Georgia. From rescuing 216 animals in the first year of operation to 831 as of 2007 year end, the shelter facility allows for the increase the number of cats and kittens rescued. The shelter provides a temporary home in the colorful, cage-free environment. The dogs remain in foster homes until adopted. FurKids is also one of the only shelters in the Southeast that has a room dedicated to cats with Feline Immunodeficiency Virus (FIV) and has the capacity for 20 cats. Additionally, they have veterinary facilities on site.

It started with a standoff. I picked up a cat and handed it to Tim. He did one of those endearingly “guy” things: he held the cat as far away from his body, locking his elbows and shoulders so that there was no way Mr. Five Pound Kitty was coming any closer – the “Let me evaluate you from afar. Any closer than this would be too close for me to get a good look at you. Hmm, yeah, you don’t look familiar. I really don’t know about you. Jury is still out, Kiddo, and until we get to the bottom of this, I will stay over here and you will stay over there. Deal?” routine. Anyhow, Tim kept that cat a safe distance. Who knew what it was capable of?

But fairly soon, the distance between them shortened. While cleaning the colony rooms, Tim found a kindred spirit – i.e. the cat that would attack me if given the correct motivation (further defined as the cat who, when tantalized by a ribbon toy languishing on the back of some tall, blue jean clad scratching post, would forget all reason, launch from his kitty perch, and begin to climb, painfully (for me, not the cat), up the back of the aforementioned scratching post). Tim and that cat must have thought the game was a hoot – it was repeated several times.

Each colony room (all eleven of them) was kept meticulously clean: first water and food was changed out and replenished; cat boxes were tidied; cat toys, houses and play structures picked off of the ground as floors were swept and mopped; and beds were fluffed or removed for washing. Happy cats looked on, either helping clean by chasing the mop, or simply reveling in the maid service.

After the colony rooms had been cleaned, Tim and I observed a few spay and neuter procedures, watching as the volunteer vet cleanly and skillfully completed a number of surgeries. Sam and the staff spoke to us about a number of the cats, telling us their stories. One cat had hyperthyroidism and was undergoing treatments. His health issues left him looking a little ragged, but he was feeling spritely as ever. Another cat came all the way from Japan, had been adopted once, but ended up back in the shelter given his dare devil tactics. And another cat, a horrifying work of human cruelty, had suffered wounds due to abuse, both physical and chemical. Though contrary to expectations, he snuggled willing toward you, enjoying the attention and tender consideration. But each was happy, content in their current environment.

The end of day found us in the lobby, talking to Sam about the progression of the organization. She had started FurKids because a mother cat had deposited her kittens in Sam’s backyard. Fast forward 8 years, and you have a wonderful facility with a vast network of volunteers, all working to see that animals are treated properly and find good, permanent homes. Though the current economy has slowed adoptions (more people are unable to pay for pet food, vet bills, or, are losing their homes), the people at FurKids remain positive.

I mean, it is hard to not stay positive, when in one day, you are able to convince the most anti-cat person to come around. Tim now admits they aren't usless - they are "pretty okay", whatever that means. But when no one was paying attention, Tim sat down with Gus and let the encounter extend until they had both settled comfortably, just enjoying one another in the leisurely moment.