Animal Magic

by Carolyn Press-McKenzie

  We didn’t have to bow to outside pressure because we were marching to the beat of our own drum. That’s not to say we didn’t have our challenges, but we’ve embraced and conquered every hurdle and we’ve done it with good old-fashioned common sense. Others soon joined us, such as Sally who is our feisty Pom and has steadfastly made HUHA her life’s work too.

  My theory was that Kaitoke was to be our farm animal and wildlife base, as well as a home for the long-term oldies and wonkies. Because of the neighbours and the driveway dramas, I couldn’t grow Kaitoke to meet the demands of the growing public interest, so it was settled that Kaitoke only be open by appointment on Sundays. This respected the privacy of the animals there in our care that often had extra special needs. Otaki would become the ‘shopfront’ of HUHA, open seven days a week to welcome visitors and volunteers. With all hands on deck, the Otaki shelter didn’t just address the needs of the animals, it also provided exposure for dogs and horses available for adoption. It was a place where folk could walk, play and interact with the animals then apply to adopt if a connection was strong.

  Soon the animals started to trickle in. The first dogs were two heavily pregnant bitches, Jodi and Poppy, whose puppies were too far along to be considered for termination. Jodi whelped at Sally’s house and then raised her scrumptious puppies at the shelter surrounded by love, comfort and our incredibly doting team. When Poppy struggled with her newborn pups, Jodi was able to relieve the burden by taking two on as her own; the problem-solving was already working.

  Sam found herself busily responding to a cry for help. There was a large herd of unhandled Kaimanawa and Kaimanawa-cross mares, foals and an assortment of yearlings that were being sent to slaughter after their owner had become ill. Sam set about organising the rescue; we would need to pay the equivalent price of the meat for each life and then transport them from the back blocks of Ruatoria to the safety of HUHA Otaki. It was the first time in all my years that I had handed over the reins on a big rescue and although I struggled and wobbled a bit from the sidelines like an anxious parent, I was so proud of Sam and her new team. They pulled off a miracle, transporting 21 of the horses with the support of Kaimanawa Heritage Horses to the safety of our care without a hitch. And our biggest asset was once again the power of Facebook, which we used to fundraise quickly and easily for the logistically mammoth task and to find many potential new homes for the horses.

  Sam and her team then set about working with the wild herd, patiently gaining their trust and setting them up with the skills they would need for their new lives. As each left us, a contract was signed by the carefully vetted owners saying that they could not breed from, give away or on-sell their companions—if, for whatever reason, they could no longer care for the horse they were to come back to HUHA, so we could understand what happened and put it right. That is a condition that applies to all of our adoptions. We promise to take responsibility for all HUHA animals for the rest of their lives. No HUHA animal should ever end up passed around, lost in the system or on Trade Me.

  Claire is an absolute legend. She hit the ground running as more and more dogs came into our care at the new Otaki shelter. She is so invested and passionate about every life in her charge. Once again I learnt it was okay to let go a little. I was abreast of every situation and at the forefront of every decision, teaching the team all I could from Jim’s and my experiences, but with our new Otaki HUHA open every day, and me constantly dashing between the two shelters, I had to learn to sometimes steer the ship remotely and trust in Claire’s instincts.

  In the beginning we didn’t want to step on the SPCA’s toes, so we only took in the death-row dogs from the pound. But very quickly we realised that for many animals in New Zealand we were their only chance—they needed us, so we opened the floodgates and braced ourselves.

  As animals arrived at both shelters our philosophy was simple: love and patience. We have no deadline on the animals’ care, there is no race to get them out the door and no expectation for how quickly they will rehabilitate. And if they do not fit the mould we do not consider them failures. We just welcome them as family and enrich their lives to the best of our abilities. And through the love and time we offer up, we notice huge changes. One perfect example of this is Tinkerbell.

  When I walked into the old farmhouse everything looked normal; the fire was warm and the children were snuggled in their onesies, the adult dogs seemed calm enough outside the window, but there was something amiss with the puppy we had been asked to collect. I knew she was deaf—that was the reason we had received the usual ‘come and get this puppy or we’ll shoot it’ call—but she had such an edge about her for one so young. She was cute, incredibly cute, but there was definitely more going on with this beautiful white eight-week-old Staffy pup than what lay on the surface. As I went to scoop her up in my arms she flinched and growled. I blamed myself; she’s deaf so maybe I hadn’t given her enough of a visual warning.

  I was saying my goodbyes, paperwork signed, when the dad stopped me. He had forgotten to show me their favourite game. He placed the deaf puppy on the floor, and as she settled on the mat the man crept up behind her with a broom clasped in his hands. I could hear the children start to giggle with delight as their dad shoved the broom at the puppy from behind. Getting an almighty fright she swung to action, teeth bared, snarling and growling in a frenzied effort to ward off the attacking broom. The puppy’s eyes were wide and the growls continued as I picked her up, her heart racing as the family chortled and raved that the game was much more fun when she was asleep . . . she was getting better at fighting back too, apparently.

  Sitting on my couch at home she relaxed and slept for hours on end, though if a person or a cat brushed past her she was up and ready to attack. With a new name and surrounded by love at HUHA’s Otaki shelter, we hoped that Tinkerbell could start to forget her past.

  Tinkerbell learnt to play nicely with other dogs and enjoyed all the attention she received from the volunteers. The mixed-up little girl was finally getting a stable and kind upbringing and her frenzied attacks, which always stemmed from a place of feeling threatened, lessened. We were careful not to let anyone play tug toy or initiate any games where she had to use her mouth, and she was always treated calmly and gently. Because Tinks was deaf she learnt to watch the people who cared for her and follow their lead. She learnt rules and boundaries and that the world was good and that she was welcome in it.

  Other shelters had taught me that the only remedy for aggression in dogs was to euthanise. But HUHA was starting to have its own voice and philosophies. We wanted to know why animals acted the way they did and if it was possible to remedy learned behaviours. And so it was through Tinky and the passion of her number-one fan Claire that we discovered we had a very valuable commodity on our side: time. And with that time we reinforced our mantra that by changing the environment we could change the animal. We helped Tinky detox from her old life and taught her to trust again. We didn’t enable her fear by mollycoddling; we just simply taught her through routine and boundaries to trust people and respect all other beings. And the recipe worked.

  When Tinkerbell was ten months old a wonderful lady called Tracey came into the shelter and on seeing Tinky showed an interest in adopting her. We told Tracey about Tinkerbell’s history and asked her to visit for a few weeks so she could get a true understanding of the gorgeous character Tinky had become. Tracey and her son diligently showed up for walks and play dates. They started to learn sign language and the rest is history. They adopted Tinkerbell who now has her first real home. The three of them are often seen around their home town, Tracey and son on their bikes and Stinky Tinky on her lead, pulling the way.

  As you will have realised by reading about my journey, Tinkerbell wasn’t the first to challenge all that I had been taught about responsible decision-making in an animal shelter. But she was the first real challenge for our new HUHA team, reinforcing that digging deeper, trying harder and taking the time to problem-solve pays of
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  This little white deaf dog was the beginning of our journey to becoming New Zealand’s first truly no-kill animal shelters. We didn’t label ourselves no kill and then strive to meet the challenge. For us it just happened organically; we are no kill because it is what it is. People often ask me what no kill means and this is what I tell them: we value the gift of euthanasia for old or infirm animals, when the time is right. To hold them in your arms and to say goodbye surrounding them with love and dignity is a sad but beautiful thing. But we do not euthanise for man-made reasons: for time, money, ignorance, space or convenience. At HUHA every animal is valued beyond words, and every animal is given the right to a sensible, safe and bright future.

  We think that maybe, just maybe, we have set a new bar. With our HUHANZ Facebook community and our team we’re on track to change animal welfare expectations and outcomes in New Zealand—so watch this space.

  Or, better still, join us on this magical but achievable journey of hope.

  Epilogue

  From here on it is all about keeping these promises:

  To the animals: we won’t give up on you. We will be patient while you learn and grow, and we will be considerate as we find you the right happy ever after.

  To the team: we will always support each other and welcome newbies as we grow. We will never allow pressure or others to dictate our decisions.

  To HUHA: I will not stop until we find a way to build a sustainable future for this special charity.

  To the community: we will always keep you involved, as it is ultimately you who can make the biggest change.

  To myself and Jim: I will never forget where we started or why. And that we will learn from our mistakes along the way.

  Growing up under the careful watch of Blue, our family cat.

  McCavity, a very special cat who arrived as a homeless rescue at Central Wellington Vets and stayed with me as my best friend and companion until he passed away at the age of nineteen.

  Although the marriage didn’t last, my first wedding was a very special time for my family as Dad passed just weeks later. With Leon and me are (from L to R) my sister-in-law Sarah-Jane, brother David, Dad, Mum, sister-in-law Fiona and brother Stephen.

  The house bus, with horses Drum and May.

  Some of the motley crew: Thistle, Ernie and a new porky playing with Dottie.

  One big blended family.

  Training Cloudy for The Tribe.

  Here’s Beethoven, the hunk of scrumminess I trained for the New Zealand award-winning movie Snakeskin. He’s with Oliver Driver who played the tough skinhead lead.

  Dressed up as Melanie Lynskey’s body double for the role of Alice in the movie Snakeskin.

  The Peruvian pinktoe tarantula spider being placed on the actor ready for action in The Lost World.

  Hand-raised Gerber the parrot swinging on the set of The Lost World.

  Jim’s amazing message to me, carefully spelled out with car tyres, as a surprise on my birthday, two days before our almost-wedding.

  Our beautiful wedding day. Here with Leah and Shaun, and Jim’s mother ‘Grandma Carly’.

  Haggis was my wedding bouquet.

  At home with Munchkin, Ned, Haggis and Scooter (now rehomed as Cilla).

  In a bath of herbs, Orlando the goose with his terrible neck wound. They said it couldn’t be healed, but with some HUHA magic and herbal remedies he recovered perfectly within six weeks.

  The early days at our old house on top of the hill, with Murphy and Haggis.

  Ex-circus monkey Rachel was larger than life, but so gentle when meeting new friends.

  Our team worked tirelessly during the Christchurch earthquakes to bring animals to safety. (© JO MOORE PHOTOGRAPHY)

  Charlie and me relaxing in a paddock, with Captain Bungeye the cat. (© JO MOORE PHOTOGRAPHY)

  Charlie loves iceblocks on a hot day.

  It gets pretty cold at HUHA Kaitoke but with good shelter and food in their tummies the animals take it in their stride.

  Three-legged Ned hitches a ride on the quad and helps feed out.

  Henry the heron patrols his pond.

  Winter magic at HUHA Kaitoke with Hugo, Tucker and Norm.

  Ex-circus monkey Laurie would pass us his chain if he wanted to go for a walk.

  Laurie gets such joy from painting, he even painted his house. (© JO MOORE PHOTOGRAPHY)

  Piggy Sue enjoys her freedom.

  Some of the fantastic giant pumpkins that were grown in the community, shown off here by Cecil the duckling and his family of baby bunnies.

  We had no idea she was pregnant: Pixie and newborn Punga.

  Precious Stanley who touched so many lives when he was alive and went on to help save lives after his death.

  Releasing one of the 300 fairy prions we rehabilitated after a devastating storm beached an estimated 250,000 birds on the North Island’s West Coast. (© JACK PENMAN)

  Acknowledgements

  I want to say a huge thank you to the special people who have laughed, cried and had penny-dropping moments with me along the way.

  Starting of course with my truly wonderfully normal but inspiring family and ending with my wonderfully driven and slightly abnormal HUHA family.

  You all mean the world to me and it is your constant conversation and patience around my vision and passion that has allowed me to be bold enough to walk such a unique and important path.

  I’d especially like to mention Eric who steadfastly encouraged Jim and me to realise our potential for the sake of the animals.

  And to Donna Lee my teacher who inspired me to heal.

  About the author

  Carolyn Press-McKenzie is well known as the founder of HUHA Helping You Help Animals Charitable Trust. Carolyn’s inspired problem-solving and drive has led a team of HUHA volunteers to save thousands of animals from death row and to find safe outcomes for hundreds of animals after the Christchurch earthquakes, thirty beagles from a medical testing facility, thousands of hens from battery farms as well as ex-circus and zoo animals and native wildlife. HUHA volunteers also organised New Zealand’s largest animal welfare protest—against party-pill testing on animals—after which the law was changed.

  Carolyn currently heads HUHA’s two no-kill animal sanctuaries just north of Wellington as well as running a business that formulates natural products. She has worked as a vet nurse, trained animals for film and television, studied herbalism, appeared as the animal adviser on TV One’s Good Morning, has won two New Zealander of the Year Local Hero Awards and is highly regarded by the animal lover community.

  For more information, visit www.huha.org.nz