A Valentine for Zsa Zsa

FEBRUARY 01, 2015 IN TIMES LEADER

The following column about my pup Zsa Zsa was published in today's Times Leader. People have asked me how she is doing, and the answer is well. She's very funny, and I have to be vigilant and consistent, but she is a good little dog. Though the word "Amish" didn't appear in the newspaper, make no mistake that they are top offenders in the puppy mill problem. When I took ZZ to the vet's for the first time, she knew immediately from where the pup came just from the physical traits and subsequent health issues mill dogs exhibit.  We're trying to remedy the mess these people made of this innocent animal's life. Here are a few more Zsa Zsa notes:

• Nicknames: ZZ, Zsah, and Lil' Z (gansta) 
• She loves to be in the sun and will follow patches of it on the floor around the house 
• She also likes toys and bones and isn't shy about taking what she can from her cousins or buddy Toby, though she isn't aggressive or threatening. It's hysterical to see her charge into a pile of toys and drag out the biggest bone (Samoyed size) without being intimidated at all. Think ant and rubber tree plant.
• She is still trying to figure out cats (who isn't?) but, again, isn't threatening--simply curious, much to the object-cat's chagrin
• In spite of the long days spent on the front seat of a U-Haul in November, she loves to ride in the car and now pokes her head out of the pet carrier to view the world outside the window. Previously, she has curled up and slept.      

COLUMN 25

At the end of 2013 I adopted a three-year old (estimated) ball of fur with one dark eye and one blue that weighed six pounds soaking wet.  I wasn’t sure I wanted the responsibility and expense of a pet.  My parents died the month before. I had no idea where my life was going.   

It began when I called Vicki Groves of My Young and Old Fur Babies Rescue to donate some blankets, and she said, “You’ll never believe what I got this week.”  She told me about her visit to a Holmes County veterinarian’s and stopping the vet tech as he lifted this pup, with tail wagging, out of the cage to euthanize her--just another breeder in an puppy mill that out-lived her usefulness. The vet thought she was a grey and black Shih Tzu, but after Vicki bathed her four times at the clinic to get the filth and smell from her coat, it turned out the pup was apricot and white.  She didn’t bark and seemed very sweet.

“She would be a great dog for you,” Vicki concluded. “She needs a quieter home; she could lie on your lap while you write.

When I dropped off the blankets, this little bundle fell asleep on my arm. Soon after, I, with the encouragement of most of my Facebook friends, made arrangements to adopt her. I’d picked out a Chinese name that meant “little joy:” Xiao Xiao. Right away it was apparent that she was more of a “little diva,” so her name became similar sounding Zsa Zsa instead.

I won’t lie. This co-habitation has been an adjustment for both of us. Her breed is notoriously stubborn, but she obeys eventually and looks to me for direction, acknowledgement and food. Zsa Zsa also has health issues due to irresponsible breeding practices. She’s allergic to almost everything, literally, so I cook vegetables, fruits, whole grains and fish for both of us.  I also have to make logistical schedule adjustments to come home every few hours to let the pooch out of her crate.

As she’s been acclimating to a world beyond a wire cage, I’ve observed a few lessons from her. Maybe she was sent to remind me of these as I reassess my own life.

First, Zsa Zsa goes with the flow. She’s fine hanging out with her toys and blankets at home, but is always up for adventure whether going to see her “cousins”--my cousins’ Samoyeds and kitty-- or traveling across the US in a U-Haul.  She greets everyone and is curious about everything new, a little cautiously sometimes, but always giving whatever it is the benefit of the doubt. If it has popcorn, all the better.

Vicki thought the mill may have severed Zsa Zsa’s vocal chords (not unusual) because she didn’t bark while at the rescue. Thankfully she wasn’t put through that horror. Turns out, lesson two, Zsa Zsa only barks when she thinks it’s necessary. She watches, evaluating what’s happening instead of throwing herself into it with mouth running.

Third, Zsa Zsa doesn’t let her past determine her future. I can only imagine her previous miserable life, and if it had turned out that she was snappish with people or fearful of other dogs, who could blame her?  Instead, she wakes every morning facing fresh, new days, more good now than bad. She is afraid of the dark, though, so we sleep with a nightlight (and I with a mask over my eyes) to reassure Zsa Zsa and to keep me from waking to an ungodly screeching howl at 2 a.m.  But her uninhibited joy as she scampers and struts is contagious.

Fourth, Zsa Zsa tries. Even if she’s unsure or afraid, she gathers up some moxie and gives it a go. She wants to contribute to “the pack,” and I want her to have some confidence, so when she succeeds at a challenge, it’s “good girl,” “yay,” and lots of pats on the head.

Now the not-so-good news. Zsa Zsa would have died without anyone knowing of this harmless, sweet and spunky little creature of God. There were already garbage bags on the vet clinic floor containing dogs not fortunate enough to catch Vicki’s eye, and this goes on every day. Holmes County and Lancaster, Pennsylvania are known as the “puppy mill capitals of the world.”

Virtually all puppies in pet stores—around 500,000 annually--come from mills, as do puppies at flea markets. A mill owner rakes in upwards of $300,000 per year at the expense of confined, malnourished and even injured dogs that keep the puppies coming. While puppies are sent away from the mill, the mothers—like Zsa Zsa—merely exist in wire cages breeding twice a year until they can’t produce, then are euthanized by a vet or killed on the farm. Googling “puppy mill statistics” will yield links to USDA and Humane Society reports and the ABC News story on Amish puppy mills. The only way to stop the cruelty is to stop buying these puppies and putting your money in the pockets of the monsters. Instead, support the rescues that save these dogs.

Lucky us, Zsa Zsa and me, when Fate smiled.  Another year of exploring ahead, and, as Vicki predicted, Zsa Zsa is snoring on the couch beside me. Valenti can be reached at gvalenti@timesleaderonline.com.

Rescue Me: A (Bridal) Path to Renewal, Part 2

AUGUST 04, 2014 IN TIMES LEADER

I planned to post this last week, but it's all a blur now. The children pictured are therapy clients. The adorable little boy has a disease that constricts his muscles, and he is in pain much of the time. Riding helps strengthen and stretch his muscles, and he looks forward to seeing the horses and RJ volunteers twice a week, though the therapy is painful. The little girl is autistic and was barely communicating before she began riding. She isolated herself from her classmates and refused to touch anything that might get her hands dirty. After three weeks of riding, her teacher called the girl's mother to tell her she was interacting with the other children, telling them about the horse. She loves feeding Apache after her ride, something she never would have done three months ago. Here is the rest of the feature.

Twelve of the ranch horses are therapy horses (seven of the rescues,) but not all horses are suited to therapy jobs. They have to be desensitized to loud noises and sudden movements; they have to have patience; they cannot be claustrophobic because attendants have to walk on either side of them. Larish says she also brushes sensitive skin areas to make sure they won’t react, and the trained horses are not afraid of wheelchairs. The evaluations and training are for both the horses’ and patients’ safety.

Larish say a 30-year old rescue named Apache and 24-year old Cisco are two popular therapy horses because of their calm and sweet demeanors. Cisco was Berica’s mate and mourns her death.

“Cisco is a teacher, a wise old man,” Larish notes. “That horse knows it all. Whenever I’m upset I tell him all my troubles, and he just soaks it all in. He was endurance trained, so he can ride like the wind. But put a child on his back and he’s on his tip toes, he’s so gentle. If horses have a job to do, they feel much better.”

At RJ Ranch their jobs involve helping (with doctors’ permission) clients from 4 to 98 years old address issues with autism, Down syndrome, multiple sclerosis, stroke, cancer, brain injuries, behavior, addiction, physical and developmental disabilities and all types of abuse. Clients come through agencies or individuals in the Upper Ohio Valley.

Responses to the treatments are positive. Larish says one patient came to the ranch as a last resort after being given just weeks to live. She was using a walker and didn’t know anything about horses, but the staff worked with her, starting with grooming. One and a half years later, the patient is fully functional, living on her own and driving.

She notes a 4-year old patient who was non-verbal and non-functioning (having to be fed and dressed, etc. by others.) After three months of riding, he began speaking, repeating others’ words. He then started talking on his own and is now in the fourth grade with no IEP or behavior issues.

“What most of us find normal or annoying has some of my parents jumping for joy—like talking or playing in the mud,” says Larish. “It’s amazing what happens to children when they ride,”

That applies to many of the ranch’s workers, too. Larish’s daughter Julianna, 17, and Larish’s boyfriend’s son Jeremy, 23, manage daily chores and activities for the other nine volunteer workers, all teenagers. They work as a team and follow chore charts. There is a garden that provides most of the farm’s food, and Larish purchased a pig and cow for butchering. Julianna points out that the group comes up with its own projects and systems to make the farm work more efficiently, and the process builds leadership skills.

“There’s peer pressure,” Julianna says. “But it’s good peer pressure.”

Aside from regular farm chores like cleaning stables, mending fences and cutting and baling 200 acres of hay, the students are trained to assist the riders as leaders and attendants. Most are staying on the farm for the summer, even some that live nearby. Larish is in contact with their parents but says many of the kids who have lived on the ranches come from difficult home lives and are considered high risk, and this is a safe place for them to be.

Remembering her promise to provide sanctuary, Larish, called “Momma Julz” by the kids, says that many open up with stories about their lives at home and on the streets when they feel comfortable. She and Julianna tallied the number of teens with whom Larish has interacted with and/or housed, and they came up with 57. She does hope to work with probation and community service programs to reach more high risk youth.

“These kids used to be out partying,” she adds. “Now they work all day, and our parties are sitting around a campfire and eating s’mores.” 

But there is more work to do. Her most immediate need is completing the riding arena with rolling, sand and gravel. Ideally, they will close it in, also, so therapy is available in the winter months and on rainy days. As mentioned, there are 200 acres of hay to mow, so Larish would welcome volunteers for help there and with riding sessions.

Though the ranch is a nonprofit, currently all of the expenses are out-of-pocket, so donations of tack (especially child-sized,) lead ropes, halters, bareback pads, bits and bridles are welcome. Senior Equine feed, Special Horse feed and oats would also be useful. Many parents have to pay for therapy riding sessions because their insurance doesn’t cover them. Larish says sponsorships for those children would mean a great deal to parents facing additional medical costs. For more information on donating, equine therapy sessions or general riding sessions, email rjranch911@gmail.com or call (740) 686-2989. 

Native American animal totems indicate the spirit of the horse is about inner strength, drive and overcoming obstacles to pursue goals in life. Larish says that “watching people come alive again” around the horses—as they develop their strengths--keeps her mission with the ranch at the forefront. But it is Larish’s own ability to overcome obstacles that has given new life and purpose to a farm, to neglected horses, troubled children and patients and parents looking for hope.

Rescue Me: A (Bridal) Path to Renewal, Part 1

JULY 28, 2014 IN TIMES LEADER

I've been debating about what to post here the last week, but this feature appeared over the weekend, and I thought I would share this woman's story. It's a remarkable place, full of promise and hope. This is the first installment, which appeared in The Times Leader on Saturday, July 26. I am still deciding on whether to post my series on heroin, which isn't nearly so uplifting.

JACOBSBURG—Julie Larish promised herself—and God—that if her family got away from the abusive situation in which they lived and into safety, she would try to provide sanctuary to others. She fled to the West Coast and built a new life, the foundation for her venture, R. J. Ranch & Riding Center, now that she’s returned to her hometown. 

Larish’s training in medical assisting got her a position in the California mental health system. A local sheriff set her up with a horse ranch--a lifelong interest—where Larish saw her own daughter develop confidence and self-esteem as she spent time with the horses. Another little girl also inspired Larish’s pursuit of equine therapy programs. She was wheelchair-bound and not communicative, but began riding and interacting with the horses on the ranch. Larish says this girl not only walks and talks now, but shares her story of recovery through equine therapy with others.

Larish eventually moved to Idaho to start her own ranch with equine therapy programs and teach college courses in horse behavior, horse nutrition and horseback riding. One of her clients had to get rid of her horses and told Larish about her Arabian left with a trainer who was starving the animal. Rescuing Berica was an important move for Larish.

“I was leery of Arabians because they aren’t like other horses,” Larish explains. “You can tell other horses what to do. After working with Berica, it came to me: other horses react; Arabians think. Once I realized that they have this special connection with humans, training was easier. She was one of the best horses I ever had. I miss her every day.”

Berica, who passed away a few months ago, not only lived out her life as a top therapy horse, but was named the “2008 4-H Horse of the Year” in the state of Idaho for her therapy work.

How does equine therapy, or equine assisted therapy (EAT,) work? As early as 600 BC the Greeks were riding horses as a means of therapy, and it came to the United States in the 1960s from Europe. While other animals have been used in treatments, horses have been found very effective because of their size, non-judgmental attitudes, their ability to respond immediately to direction and their characteristic “mirroring” of their riders’ emotions. This provides quick feedback to the rider, to the instructor and to the therapist.

Generally speaking, a therapist (psychological, occupational or speech) determines the patient’s primary needs. They may stem from an illness, an injury, an impairment or abuse. Patients may not even touch the horse at first. With the help of an equine instructor, he or she may need to get comfortable with the horse’s size or even being in a farm environment. The patient may take the reins and walk the horse around the arena, then work up to feeding, brushing and grooming the horse. This is good for patients who need to work on trust, self-esteem and motor skills.

Riding a horse builds confidence and helps muscular illnesses by working, stretching and strengthening the body’s muscular-skeletal systems. At RJ Ranch riders have up to three attendants with them—one leading the horse and one on each side of the rider to ensure the rider is stable. Larish also has riders not use saddles when possible to further work the muscles and get to know the horse’s muscular responses to commands. Patients involved with EAT often show marked improvement quickly, sometimes at many levels, because they are focusing on the relationship with the horse rather than the therapy.

“It psychologically boosts confidence. If you can control a 1,200 pound horse with your pinkies, what can you do with the rest of your life?” Larish adds.

Larish was running her successful ranch in Idaho when her mother called asking if she could “come back home.” She decided to make the move and bring her ranch with her. Restoring a 200-year old farm wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but Larish says, “I called the owner about using the fields, and I bought it.”

One building, a garage, had to come down right away, but bringing back the farmhouse and barn and re-working 88 acres along historic Drover’s Trail (State Route 147) has become another rescue mission.

The property was rented for 12 years prior and had fallen into neglect. The barn had to be shored up, adding new beams, a floor, electric and water to the building. They built stalls and a tack room downstairs—after cleaning out “about two feet” of old, hardened manure on the floors. The house was no better. The tenants had left rooms full of beer cans and dirty diapers, and, in an upstairs bedroom, the carpet was still wet with dog urine. In all, Larish and her crew—family, friends and volunteers—removed eight dump truck loads of garbage and debris from the three buildings before they could begin any renovations. They are now working room by room in the house as they get the riding business up and running.

And there are 19 horses that need care, one boarder and 18 of the ranch’s. Some Larish has acquired through riding clients, but eight have been rescued. Friend Lillian Siebieda talks about rescuing four horses after a desperate phone call. The man’s ex-son-in-law planned to shoot the horses at the end of the day if they were still on the farm. Larish and Siebeda scrambled to get a trailer ready and travel several counties away.

“It was January and snowing and cold,” she recalls. “We pulled up and opened the trailer door. I was holding the reins and trying to get my footing because of the ice, but the horses were just about running to that trailer. When they saw it, it was like they knew this was their one chance to make it out. All of them jumped right in.”

They also rescued two emaciated colts from an elderly man who had 47 horses but was too old to care for them. One of the colts was so sick he couldn’t stand on his own. Workers at RJ Ranch gave him the nutrition and physical therapy necessary to have him standing on his own, and now he walks in the pastures.

“We just try to give them the best life we can and condition them for therapy,” adds Larish.