By Paul Schoff
Special to The Morning Call

It was the sudden silence that first caught my attention, followed quickly by the rush of people to the parking area at the makeshift animal shelter set up in Slidell, La., outside of New Orleans, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

Two veterinarians and a small crowd of technicians and volunteers rushed to a spot on the ground where a pile of comforters lay stained bright red.

A Great Dane was spewing blood from his mouth and had open wounds. His injuries were grave, and it was apparent that the battle to save his life would be lost. I cradled the dog's body as the vets tried valiantly to seal the ruptured arteries.

Covered in blood and holding the dog's head in her lap, one of the vets was about to put the dog out of its misery, but it gasped for air one final time and died. There was nothing to do but watch and cry as this gentle giant lay motionless in our arms.

I had arrived in Louisiana in mid-September after making the 12-hour drive from Allentown as a volunteer for Noah's Wish, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescuing and sheltering animals in disasters. I carried veterinary supplies donated by Emmaus, Alburtis, Cummings and West Valley Animal Hospitals, and Hamilton Animal Care.

I thought I knew what to expect, having worked with Noah's Wish during previous disasters, but the conditions were far worse than I could have ever imagined.

The animals were being housed in a makeshift shelter that ultimately would house hundreds. The heat ranged from 92 degrees at night to over 100 degrees in the afternoon with 90 percent humidity. The hard physical labor was exhausting.

During my eight days in Louisiana, two volunteers were felled by heat stroke. There was no running water, and we slept outside on concrete in sleeping bags. The constant presence of fire ants and biting black flies made it difficult to mount a rescue and recovery effort.

I was assigned to large dogs — approximately 90 of varying sizes, breeds and temperaments; more than half were pit bulls or Rottweilers. With the small and medium dogs, the cats, iguana, snakes, squirrels, rabbits, chickens, birds, a ferret and an emu, the animal population totaled about 480 when I arrived.

For each tragedy there were moments of unimaginable joy. Four dogs had ridden out Katrina's worst stranded on a boat for more than 12 days. Their owners came looking for them on my fourth day, and they were reunited. The warmth and appreciation expressed by the owners worked wonders to salve my broken heart over that Great Dane.

That same day, a man came to the front gate looking for his lost basset hound, Daisy. He had lost his life partner, his house and virtually everything he owned. Daisy had survived only to be separated from him earlier that day when he stood in line for food.

He came to Noah's Wish with great doubts that Daisy would be there, but she was. When the man and his dog were reunited, he cried for 20 minutes.

What struck me the most was the charitable spirit of the volunteers. Educational and social status distinctions, egos and attitudes were virtually nonexistent.

By the time I left, more than 175 volunteers had rotated through the Slidell location. Sadly, the animal population actually increased during my tenure from 480 to 691.

Most human shelters do not permit owners to bring pets with them for both health and liability reasons. So, groups such as Noah's Wish will continue to be needed. I have the highest praise for the hundreds of volunteers who came from across North America and from all walks of life to donate their skills, labor, sweat and determination to make sure the animals of this community survived one of this country's most devastating natural disasters.

Paul J. Schoff is an attorney in Allentown and former board member of Noah's Wish.

http://www.mcall.com/features/all-petsschoff1oct21,0,7749442.story