Dog 218 Inspiration

Dog 281 was inspired by my sister’s black Labrador retriever, Frasier, who disappeared from Montcalm County in mid-Michigan in 2001. She did everything she could think of to find him:

·      She hired a pet detective.

·      She put up hundreds of posters with the word REWARD in bright red letters.

·      She distributed postcards with Frasier’s photograph and description.

·      She frequently checked the county shelter as well as shelters in surrounding counties.

·       She ran a “Lost Dog” ad in the local daily newspaper for a year.

Despite her efforts, Frasier never came home. It was if the world was flat, and he fell off the edge.           

Frasier was a 6-year-old couch potato who loved being taken for walks. Frasier disappeared when my sister and her husband were on vacation and his routine was interrupted. He had been left in the house with the doors unlocked. When my niece came home from school the door was open and the only thing missing was Frasier. It was in January during a stretch of colder than normal temperatures.

Frasier was wearing a collar––a brand new one that Santa had just brought him. But Santa hadn’t switched his tags from the old collar to the new one.

Montcalm County was (and still is) home to a USDA Class B animal dealer. In Judith Reitman’s eye-opening book Stolen for Profit––How the Medical Establishment is Funding a National Pet-Theft Conspiracy, (Pharos Books, 1992), Reitman details how family pets end up in medical research companies.

There are currently eight USDA Class B animal dealers in the United States and three of them are in Michigan.

Did Frasier paw the door open that cold day in January? Possibly, it was an old wooden door that didn’t latch unless pulled tightly to ensure it was closed.

Did he take himself for a walk, get lost in the nearby woods or swamps, and die from exposure?

Did someone find him so that he became a couch potato in their home?

Or did someone enter the home and steal him?

Did Frasier somehow end up in the hands of a Class B animal dealer?

We may never know.

Somebody

If Steve Nyenhuis could afford it, he’d own ten acres of land and take in rescue dogs. The reality is he’s on a fixed income and living in an apartment so the Viet Nam vet can only dream of owning a sanctuary for homeless dogs. But those limitations didn’t stop him from helping an 8-month-old puppy in need of a new home.

“I just happened to be there and said, ‘I’ll take the dog.’” 

Last month Kelley Jean McKay, a social worker intern, was working at the apartment complex where Nyenhuis lives. She recalled several residents telling her there was a puppy outside who wanted to come in. McKay, who has a soft spot for animals, went and got the pup and brought her to her office.

When she started asking questions she learned someone had seen a couple teenage girls put the dog outside the night before and told it to be gone.

But the puppy didn’t listen. “She didn’t run away. She faithfully waited. She believed someone was going to come back and get her,” McKay said.

McKay tracked down the owner of the puppy who confirmed she no longer wanted the young dog. McKay was about to call animal control when Nyenhuis announced he’d take the puppy. 

He also promptly named her Somebody.

“To somebody she was a nobody, but she’s a somebody to me,” he said. “She’ll never be a nobody again.”

McKay hesitated letting him have the dog because he’d have to pay an extra deposit to keep her and then there would be the expense of food and veterinary bills. Nyenhuis assured her he could afford the expenses.

When McKay saw Nyenhuis down on his knees in the grass playing with the pup, she reconsidered. “He’s a very kind man with a big heart,” she said. 

Nyenhuis was born in Minnesota but raised in Michigan. He said he’s been all over the country but always returns to Michigan because he appreciates the changing seasons. He loves to hitchhike and has traveled more than 20,000 miles by hitching rides. Nyenhuis also loves variety and has worked more than 50 different jobs. “From washing dishes to working in a gold mine in South Dakota,” he said.

The one constant in his life has been his love of dogs. “They’re a comfort to people. I get along with animals as well as I do with people,” he said.

Nyenhuis was already co-owner of another rescue dog named Teddy. He and his girlfriend, Teresa Menard, share custody of a Coton de Tuléar, a breed of small dog named for the city of Tuléar in Madagascar. Teddy had been a stud dog in a puppy mill before they got him four years ago.

Menard suggested they change the pup’s name from Somebody to Cleopatra. She worried about the reaction of people when Nyenhuis shouted Somebody when they called the dog.

So Somebody is now Cleopatra. 

“She’s a ball of energy,” Nyenhuis said. He takes her for frequent walks and outside play. “I’m getting older, but I have to do what she needs. She’s so worth it.”

Crazy Cat Lady blog

I’m coming out of the closet … as a crazy cat lady! Most people who know me probably won’t be surprised. Maybe I’m the only one who is surprised. Believe me, it wasn’t part of my master plan.

As a writer, I have been writing about my cats for years. The strays, the fosters and the foster failures. I didn’t fail as a foster parent because I fell in love—I watched countless cats that I loved leave for new homes. The ones who stayed with me were the shy kitties who didn’t present well in a cage at adoption events. The curmudgeons.

Recently, I put my stories together into a book, You Might be a Crazy Cat Lady if … . It’s my attempt at taking the stigma out of caring about cats. We’re not crazy. We’re compassionate. 

When I did a book signing at a Lansing store several fellow cat lovers came and we had a cat-errific time. The experience sparked an idea––to do fundraisers for cat rescue groups--crazy cat lady parties. 

Dog lovers have dog walks. Cats don’t care for such social frivolity. They’d rather nap at home and have their staff—yes, we’re not owners, we’re staff—bring them toys and treats. 

So come to crazy cat lady party! We have two planned. One August 10 to benefit BestPals Animal Rescue. The second one on Sept. 21 to benefit A Feral Haven.

Cats need our help. There are still too many being euthanized, too many being abandoned when their owners move, too many strays having kittens.

Come to a party and support the rescues that are helping cats in your community. Contact me at catsanddogsmagazine@comcast.net for more information.

Dog 281 and More Than a Number

This month my second novel is being released. Usually the cover of a sequel book looks similar to that of the book it follows. Not so with More Than a Number, the sequel to Dog 281. 

I liked the cover of Dog 281, but I can’t tell you how many times I heard, “I couldn’t read a book with such a sad cover.”

I found myself responding with, “It has a happy ending or don’t judge a book by its cover.” 

The reaction to the cover differed depending on the gathering. It didn’t bother attendees at the Pet Expo, especially those in rescue. People at non-pet events, such as the Women’s Expo, were usually the ones who found the cover too sad.

What I really felt like saying was, “You don’t know what sad is, if you think a photo of a beagle in a cage is sad. The beagle is apparently well fed and healthy. You can’t count her every bone. There isn’t a multi-prong plug surgically implanted in her head. She doesn’t have a cone over her face so she can be forced to inhale toxic fumes including cigarette smoke. She’s not restrained so substances can be dripped into her eyes to see if said substances cause irritation or blindness. Now those things would be sad.”

Thanks to Kristina VanOss, the cover of More Than a Number, the sequel to Dog 281, has a happier cover. Kristina rescues cats and is an illustrator. She read the manuscript, and after much discussion, came up the artwork that is the cover. 

Dog 281 was ten years in the writing. More Than a Number, was written in less than two years.

Dog 281 was my first novel, and I lacked know-how and confidence.  Plus, during those ten years, I went through a devastating divorce, both my parents died of cancer, my job as a free-lance writer at the Grand Rapids Press evaporated, and I started Cats and Dogs, a Magazine Devoted to Companion Animals.

But every spring when I heard the spring peepers in the swamp next to my home, I was reminded of the opening scene I had written in Dog 281. So I continued.

With More Than a Number, a friend who was studying to be a personal coach needed someone with who to practice her new skills. I volunteered to be her guinea pig.  See how ingrained the misuse of animals are in our vocabulary? 

JoAnn suggested I break the book into doable chunks. We came to a 1,000-word-a-day goal. My goal was 80,000 words, and once I got into the rhythm of writing every day, it didn’t take long. Which is easy to say now.

So if you happen to be at any of the events listed on the Calendar, please stop in and say hi. And whatever you do, don’t tell me the covers are sad!

Janet V0rmittag