Maxwell’s Agenda

When I adopted Maxwell I never thought of the future and what hurdles or endeavors we may be facing – all that I knew in that moment was that his previous “people” were giving up on him, washing their hands of him because he was “different” and being someone who just lost her pug about a month prior I felt it was a sign from the universe — that Maxwell came into MY clinic (of all of the other clinics) and it was a “new client”– I had never seen Maxwell or this person prior to that fateful day I took him home.

I remember calling my husband and starting the call with “I MAY have done a “thing”…but remember that I love you!” I could SENSE his eyeroll over the telephone followed up with “what did you adopt now!?” (He knows me FAR too well!).

My husband told me we could “foster him” (his defense mechanism for all the handipets we have adopted!) but he and I both knew that Maxwell was coming home to stay permanently. Thus kicked off our journey of Maxwell Seamus!

Everyone see’s the “romanticized” version of adopting a specially-abled animal — the cuddling, the “adorable hurdles” and their cute, unique little quirks that make them … “them”! Friends, I am here to tell you that this is NOT one of those stories (but it is still cute and inspiring!) and the first few days being Maxwell’s mama was turbulent to put it mildly — despite the rough ride I was not about to give up and we were going to figure this out!

Early on the veterinarians (and myself) were holding out hope that Maxwell may be able to walk despite his adversities — we immediately started physical therapy, hydro-therapy, acupuncture and various obstacle courses to help give Maxwell strength & stamina. As time carried on it was evident that Maxwell would not be able to stand upright on his own or be able to use his back legs — even then we were not discouraged and continued to work on his progress.

Every morning Maxwell and I start the day the same — I creep into his room and begin to lightly talk to him helping him greet the day! Maxwell gives a big stretch or two, a yawn and looks up with those big ol’ brown eyes full of hope and wonder. I take Maxwell outside to use the “facilities” (which he needs assistance in) and then I pack his “diaper bag”, wheelchair, harness, toys, baby wipes and grip booties (to help keep him upright when he’s in his wheelchair) in the car before placing Maxwell in his car seat (safety first!)

Maxwell goes to work with me daily simply because he needs his bladder expressed manually several times a day and needs a tad bit more supervision then his handicat brothers require – luckily we work at a veterinary hospital that embraces specially – abled animals (and loves Maxwell!) so this is not an issue.

In addition to Maxwell needing his bladder expressed several times a day he also requires daily physical/hydro therapy to help his muscles not waste away (despite not being able to use his legs we want to always ensure Maxwell is healthy, big & strong!) as well as short bursts of time where he’s in his wheelchair (that was so graciously donated to Maxwell by a kind soul) to help his upper body strength and overall stamina.

Maxwell enjoys lounging on the couch with me, being surrounded by his “brothers” (aka the handicats) and playing with ALL of his toys (his favorite is his stuffed “lamby” and his rope toys) and he just overall enjoys being in the company of myself and his dad! Maxwell does not realize, nor is he phased by the fact that he may be a “little” different than the other kids (though I am starting to get concerned he believes he is a cat!) and lives a happy, spoiled life.

Every night before bedtime Maxwell goes outside to use the facilities one final time before sleep and then he is placed in his “bed” (a portable crib that was also graciously donated to us) surrounded by all of his toys and a little “bedtime snack” — Maxwell’s favorite is a couple of plain cheerios to munch on before falling asleep.

Does it sound like a lot? Absolutely not. Are there some days that it feels like it is the most overwhelming thing in the world? Sure! Some days I worry that I will not be able to give Maxwell all that he needs in life but then I am reminded that those short comings & insecurities only come from my own anxiety… Maxwell already has ALL that he needs — a family that loves him and is patient with him.

Are there some days that Maxwell blesses friends and family with a “golden shower”? Hell yes there is! And in that instance all you can do is laugh, politely apologize and remind them that Maxwell has no idea he is urinating (and definitely cannot “steer” his urine stream in any particular direction – trust me, I struggle daily with this!), has Maxwell pooped on a few friends of mine (and a few that weren’t friends) – YES. He has gifted a “code brown” or two in his short little life thus far? Of course. But everything he does — gross and otherwise — you learn to take with stride and a few laughs here and there.

Everyday Maxwell amazes me in his progress. Though he still requires “grip” booties to help keep his front feet upright when he is in his wheels and sometimes he pouts about having to not simply be a “lazy pug” and has to put in actual work with his wheels he is improving daily.

The best advice I can continue to give people is NEVER be turned off or discouraged by a special needs animal, understand that when you take them into your home there will be an adjustment period (for both you and the animal) and remember a time when you needed someone to NOT give up on you? Special needs animals everywhere are looking for someone to NOT give up on them — be that person that changes their entire life.

Building a Cat Wheelchair

This cat wheelchair is for all the kitty cats out there in the world who are missing one or both of their hind legs, or for those with crippled or paralyzed hind legs. Our goal was to build a wheelchair, for disabled cats, that is just as effective, and more affordable than other wheelchairs on the market. Many cat wheelchairs on the market can cost upwards of one hundred dollars. Ours cost us around twenty dollars.

Materials

  • PVC Pipe
  • Cat Harness
  • PVC Cutter
  • PVC Cement
  • Bolt and washers
  • Wheels
  • Drill Foam
  • Sweatshirt String

Build Steps

  1. First cut two 15 inch pieces of PVC pipe.
  2. Cut PVC pipes to a height of 9 inch (including the 90 degree t-junction)
  3. Connect your pipes to form a U shape
  4. Cut the height pieces to 1.5 inch length and add the new connector pieces for the cat to rest it’s back legs.
  5. Cut axle shield 6 inches
  6. Insert bolts in the hole of the axle and apply necessary amount of washers to those bolts
  7. Drill a small hole into the sides -1/2 in back from front- and dremel the hole to the desired width
  8. Connect axle shield and t-junctions to the U shaped pieces from earlier
  9. Take wheels and screw them onto the bolts
  10. Place cat in harness
  11. Route sweatshirt string through cat harness and run through holes drilled in step 7
  12. Have fun with your little critter and his new found freedom

The 30 Something-Year-Old’s Constant Plight!

 

       As a 30 something year old married woman I often get the age-old irritating question that I am sure plague many of you,

“so, when are you having kids of your own?

      Which is cool and all for those that want them but for me? I enjoy not pushing something the size of a large wet St. Bernard through something the size of a keyhole only to have my tatas drag on the ground every morning (kudos to all y’all mamas out there though – y’all are such MVP’s!!!)

     But the statement that people should be echoing (because let’s be honest, I use that as a vehicle to talk about the adorable land of misfits) is, “you are a mom, just not in the traditional sense” which makes sense– we’re the land of misfits’ dudes!

       Nothing (and I mean absolutely nothing) we will say or do will ever be considered or filed away as “traditional”.

But a caregiver is a caregiver, right?

 

  Whether you are a “mom” to a child, an animal that you have forged a deep emotional bond with, a friend, the elderly – anyone that you provide loving, compassionate care for, you are a “parent” in one form or another.

       The next time someone approaches you in that sad sympathetic look with the tone of dismay over how they could never (cue the pearl clutching here) have an animal that is “special needs” and they simply do not know how we do it every day! Ask them why they feel that way and explain maybe you feel the same way about their situations. Do we not worry about our handicapable pets just like new parents fussing over their new baby?

 

        

Regardless of the situation, anytime you dedicate your heart to something as pure as an animal (handicapable or otherwise) or a baby or loved one, you are assuming the care, love, and responsibility for that helpless, defenseless being.

 

        

          So no, I am not a mother in the traditional sense but what fun would that be in the land of misfits where we are all just a little out of the ordinary here?

 

     

 Yet just like many of you I can say I am a nurturing caregiver (and a “parent”) here’s why:

  • I have and will continue to handle more amounts of fecal matter than I had originally anticipated as a child (in case you were wondering, child me had that number at a hard zero – boy was I wrong). I wipe more ass than toilet paper at this point and my regular purchase of non-scented baby wipes has the local store concerned and puzzled.
  • Everyone gets put to bed at nighttime – Maxwell is usually first to go: I help him use the facilities, we give him a little nighttime snack and then we brush his teeth, turn on his white noise machine (yes we play it and he loves the outdoor noises) and tuck him in his crib (a real baby crib) with his lamby he has had since a baby and has seen far better days.  Followed by Bifford and Bart who also both get a little snack of canned food before bedtime before putting them to put with their brother Max in the “boys’ room” (or our spare room that has been commandeered by the handipets).

 

  • On any given night you can hear crying, throwing up, fighting and more – just like kids can do (and yes there have been many a sleepless night up with a restless, crying or sick handipet)

So where is the disconnect?

 

        A mother who cares for a newborn up to their elbows in diapers and crying is a “mom”, but I am up to my eyeballs in poop many nights up all night crying because I was tired and frustrated, but felt guilty for being so upset because just like babies the handipets do not understand.

 

           One of the major differences is that with  “traditional” mothers eventually their children grow up, grow independent and off on their own but as we all know (especially here at the adorable land of misfits) is that our babies never “grow up”,  Maxwell will forever need assistance using the bathroom, he will always need me to wipe his booty, help in and out of his wheelchair and require constant attention.

        Bifford will still cry when he falls (he is a bottle kitten after all) and need the “danglers” clipped from his long hair, Bart will still need me to help him wipe the half inch long dangling boogers from his nose.

          They are each adorable, affectionate, disgusting in their own individual ways and I often describe them to people as my “adorable dumpster fires” at home but I would not change a thing because the things that make them adorable and gross are the qualities that make them who they are, make them unique and keeps our lives here interesting and entertaining.

                Because the “misfits” are the patchwork to a vibrant and beautiful life, right? Or how about the age old saying “variety is the spice of life”, that definitely applies to being a handicapable pet parent.

            Regardless of if were parents to kids, animals (handicapable or otherwise!), friends or the elderly we are all “moms” and “dads” in our own uniquely misfit way and its worthy of commendation and respect!! 

HandiPet Alliance

          We’ve all heard the stories – – the tales from handipet parents sympathizing to one another in a Facebook group, the group chat including foster families and volunteers or even veterinary staff … 

 

 

             We have *all* heard the saying, “they can be ‘pet friendly’ BUT are they ‘handipet friendly’?”

 

 

         In the new year we decided to tweak some of our regular resolutions of education and awareness to bring something that is making the amazing handipet tri-pawd (get it?! tri-pawd!? Please forgive my “dad joke”!) the ultimate trifecta: unity!

 

 

 

          So we are launching the “HandiPet Alliance” – just a group of like-minded “allies” that can be anyONE that supports handipet awareness and compassion can apply! 

What Happens When Applying?

 

You will receive an e-mail confirming your submission & get our “alliance” logo to proudly display on your website/social media — wherever! 

 

If you are a veterinarian/organization you will be added to our “misfit map” and directory  (this is does not apply if you are NOT an organization) to alert others that you are misfit friendly! 

This “logo” will let the world know that you stand united with handipet advocacy and education and help network and unite pet parents worldwide! 

 

Let’s normalize the misfits!

The Unique in Disabled.

When I said it out loud it makes complete sense that I take a shine to the “broken” animals — the dejected, the forgotten because I am also fighting a silent battle in my own life to help educate and advocate for not only specially abled animals but also for myself…. an epileptic.

It is a very surreal and scary moment to be 22 years old sitting in a crowded college lecture hall on a sleepy Monday morning taking notes one moment and the next moment “come to” surrounded by a group of police, EMT etc., asking me if I knew where I was at, who the president was and what year it was. I was frustrated. Scared. Upset. My brain knew EXACTLY what I wanted to say but I was struggling to get my brain and my mouth to fall in line together but something was shorting out and I could not seem to push any words out to the chaos of people surrounding me as they placed me into an ambulance.

I was 22 when I had my first grand mal seizure. They never figured out WHY I started having seizures (my brother had juvenile epilepsy whereas I did not, but apparently gifted myself with idiopathic epilepsy as an adult) but since that initial diagnosis I have been robbed (twice) while having a seizure (the one instance they stole my jacket and shoes in the middle of winter on my college campus so I had the honor of walking barefoot to their campus police department), I have been grilled about what drugs I was taking that caused me to have a seizure (since a 22 year old covered in tattoos cannot POSSIBLY be drug free), I have been discriminated against at workplaces — asked if it was contagious, asked if they had a vaccine so their kids did not catch “epilepsy”, let go from jobs after being honest and open with them about my epilepsy and once even coined as a “liability” by a former employer despite working there several months with no issue until they had found out I had seizures. I have been poked, prodded, babysat like a child, mountains of medical bills, hospital stays and then the very real concern of SUDEP — sudden unexpected death of person with epilepsy. Which means one day I may have a seizure and never wake up. Statistically speaking every year more than 1 in 1,000 people with epilepsy die of SUDEP (according to epilepsy.com) SUDEP gets epileptics who do not have their seizures controlled but in my case it is “idiopathic” which means they do not know what causes my seizures so any treatment they recommend is more or less a “crap shoot” in hopes it sticks.

One of my many overnight EEG sessions. The perks of having strangers watch you sleep all night while hooked up to monitors and machines in a strange bed/environment (and you cannot have your phone or watch TV or any other normal activities before bed).

I guess as I reflect on my recent birthday that in all of the stigma that has surrounded my epilepsy…my life that it does not come as a shock that I want to push to better educate & advocate for specially-abled animals! The misunderstood, the forgotten — those that people look at with a pang of sympathy that we are all capable of love, empathy, compassion, understanding and patience (whether its pets or people!). I have been through so much since being diagnosed with epilepsy and learned so much but I learn the most daily by my “land of misfit toys” because they are resilient, always have such a cheery outlook and despite falling down they keep getting back up.

I need to keep getting back up. And continue to work to educate the world that having a disability is not a death sentence! It is not just for the tears or sympathy or attention — it boils down to education and advocacy. So just remember that whether you are talking to, working with etc., a person or pet (whether their disability is apparent or not) to always give them love, kindness & patience.

Boycott Petland/Harbor Pets

HSUS Undercover Investigation of just one of MANY investigations showing the poor practices and terrible quality of care these poor animals receive.

I know what you are thinking. Here comes the diatribe from an angry, mourning woman who had just lost her soulmate dog and wants to rail against PetLand/Harbor Pets.

Absolutely. But hear me out! Am I thankful that I just so happened to be in that horrible store at the right moment where Maggie was unfortunately being discarded like trash? Yes! I am forever grateful that I was there at that second to pipe up and volunteer to take this little bundle of fur and wrinkles home!

Petland/Harbor Pets gave me my soulmate. The light of my life. My best friend.

But I will FOREVER educate and inform people on the dangers and poor practices they utilize and how these poor puppies are products of backyard or amish breeders and are usually sick, have health problems (and usually chronic issues) all while Petland/Harbor Pets laughs all the way to the bank.

Take Maggie for example. She was from an amish breeder that Petland purchased her for $150.00 and they were going to turn around and sell her for $3999.99. Do not fret! Petland was so giving to those who cannot afford these sweet babies a credit card with “financing”! [Insert gagging noise here!]

You think to yourself that NO one in there right mind would purchase a puppy from a petstore where they have to finance (or spend thousands of dollars for that matter) but I can tell you that in my daily work at a local veterinary clinic I see these puppies CONSTANTLY. I also see the shock on their faces when their new expensive bundles of joy do not have valid vaccination records, have health issues (such as hernias, heart murmurs, cleft palates and more) or that the petland “warranty” is basically just a glorified piece of toilet paper.

This is an example of some of Petlands “glorified toilet paper”. Here is a copy of a “petland vaccine record” found on google. Note that the “vaccines” have no documentation of being administered by a veterinarian. They also do not list manufacturer, lot number or when they expire. You also do not know if these vaccines were handled properly or administered properly. Most veterinarian’s will not accept these records as they are not complete, not completed by a veterinarian and note that there was no physical examination completed by a licensed veterinarian so you have no idea what you are purchasing.

So how does Petland continue to get sales? In my honest opinion? They know how to play on the heartstrings of empathetic animal lovers that most likely have no idea what they are embarking on by purchasing one of these poor puppies. If you saw these sad, lonely puppies that live in groups with bars for walls and grates for grass wouldn’t it pluck at your heart strings?

My best advice? DO NOT BUY FROM PETLAND/HARBOR PETS! Ever. Point. Period. I know what you are thinking (or going to say) “But…But…this is where you saved Maggie from!”

You are right! This is where I rescued Maggie from but I only rescued her because I did not pay their prices thus supporting the vicious cycle. Maggie was considered trash to them, garbage, unable to profit them in anyway so of zero use to them.

Those that say they “rescued” their pets when they bought them from these stores I am sorry and I know this is an unpopular opinion but you BOUGHT an animal from them. You supported them. These stores do not care if you think you “saved them” or “rescued them” in fact they do not care what you do with these babies just as soon as your payment clears.

A former employee at Petland in Boardman summed up their thoughts on these animals with one melancholy statement, “A man came in and was looking at one of our rottie puppies. He was allowed to interact with her in one of the “rooms” where he suddenly began to hit her. I ran over and interrupted the abuse and was met with our manager who informed the man that he did not care what he did with the dog ONCE he bought it but until then the dog was Petland property and he was NOT allowed to behave that way…”

Petland did not care that this man was clearly a psychopath and hitting this dog, they did not care that the man was going to continue this cycle of abuse once he brought the dog home, Petland only cared that he purchased the dog first before “damaging” the goods.

Maggie Mae was the absolute light of my life and my saving grace in so many ways but it was no secret that I referenced to her as my adorable but very real “mutant” — she had bladder cancer, kidney stones, kidney failure (that had been years in the making), she came to me with an inguinal hernia, her dental disease was atrocious. She was every sense of the term a mutant but she was all mine. She was MY mutant and my best friend and I had an idea of what I was getting into by taking her home (and luckily I work at a veterinary clinic that helps take the “sting” out of almost bi-weekly veterinary visits, medications, diagnostics etc.,) but most families are overwhelmed once they fell in love with these tiny sweeties and take them to their vet’s only to find out they have a health condition or need a surgical procedure that choke you with dollar signs and not only that but takes a major emotional toll on you as well.

Personally I do not support breeders at all. I do not . That is strictly MY opinion but I tell families if they MUST buy from a breeder to PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do your homework. Research the breeder, their practices, their policies, their veterinary care in DETAIL. Be almost intrusive and invasive. Ask to see where the puppies live, ask to see their mothers and their living spaces. Do not be suckered in by cute photos of puppies only to find you have been hoodwinked and out hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Ask your veterinarian if they have breeder recommendations (they may be able to help you).

The best way to defeat these horrible places is to NEVER support them. Do not purchase anything from them. Do not allow yourself to be sucked into their stores and pressured into applying for their credit card for a puppy. Do not let them tug on your heartstrings because you are only fueling the cycle again and again. These stores know what they are doing. They do not care HOW they get a sale they just want a sale.

Write to your local state government. Stage a peaceful protest at these locations. Create a petition. Report them to the Better Business. Use your voice to be the voice of these poor puppies but also for their “moms” who are left back at the backyard breeders who are living in horrible, deplorable conditions and continued to be bred and bred past the point of exhaustion. Fight the “good fight” and help shut these businesses down!

In honor of my sweet angel, Maggie Mae 09/13/2006-01/25/2021