Pets

Little Orphan Bunny

Jackson Reeves — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 12:00:00 GMT

Edie Sayeg still remembers Nino. He was an “Easter rabbit,” abandoned on the doorstep of Marietta’s House Rabbit Society last August. The six-month-old had a case of Cuterebra, in which fly larvae hatch under the skin. “We thought he’d been attacked by a dog,” recalls Sayeg, who helps run the organization. Many people buy bunnies for Easter, not realizing how much care the pets require. Sayeg expects the number of unwanted rabbits to rise this year due to Universal Pictures’ new animated movie Hop.

But the House Rabbit Society will be here to help. The local chapter of the national organization cares for abandoned pet rabbits and finds them loving homes. Last year the shelter itself needed rescuing after it moved into a residentially zoned house on the edge of a commercial district along Shallowford Road. Fortunately, a county commissioner proved sympathetic. The repurposed home now includes emergency medical facilities (for rescues only), boarding for fosters and pets with traveling owners, and a shop with toys and food formulated specifically for rabbits. The organization also offers frequent “Bunny 101” courses. 2280 Shallowford Road, Marietta, 678-653-7175, houserabbitga.org

Puttin' on the Dog

Jackson Reeves — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 15:19:00 GMT

It takes a village to spoil a pet—and as our survey results indicate, Atlantans aren’t averse to spending big money on their furballs. But one of the most pampered pets in the city just might be Prada, a three-year-old Chihuahua who is as indulged as her name suggests. Here’s a look at the posse it takes to keeps Prada’s tail wagging.

THE STAGE MOM Maria Losito, owner
Prada got hooked on the spotlight a little more than two years ago, when Buckhead denizen Losito took her to a Cesar dog food Small Dog, Big Star! event at Phipps Plaza. The tiny pup had her photo taken by fake paparazzi, sampled doggie cupcakes, got a massage and “pawdicure”—and won the competition. “She just eats it up,” Losito explains, adding that Prada now has a demanding yet charming “please pamper me” attitude.

THE CHEF Krista Aversano, chef and owner of Taj Ma-Hound (707-D East Lake Drive, Decatur, 404-377-9220, tajmahound.com)
Prada loves this baker’s yogurt-frosted Pea-Mutt Butter cookies and peanut butter–carrot birthday cakes.

THE AESTHETICIANS Glamour Paws (776 North Highland Avenue, 404-885-9285, glamourpaws.net)
Here, Prada’s nails are painted pink, and her “ring toes” are encrusted with a rhinestone “diamond.” She also enjoys Glamour Paws’ blueberry facials, which lighten her tear stains, and shampoos that soothe her skin and release dead hairs.

THE DOC Dr. Kathleen Tucker, associate vet, Tucker Animal Hospital (4988 Lavista Road, Tucker, 770-934-5411, tuckeranimalhospital.com)
Tucker gives Prada vaccinations and helped with an intestinal issue that was resolved with Hill’s Science Diet foods. “She sits there and lets you do whatever you need to,” says Tucker. “She really doesn’t react at all, except for giving you kisses.”

THE FASHIONISTA Jenny Blalock, dressmaker and owner of JellyBean’s Closet (770-789-0118)
Blalock fashioned Prada a pink tutu for her birthday and a white wedding dress for a Halloween contest, which she won. And Prada’s outfits always have plenty of rhinestones and sparkly netting. “She’s very used to being the ‘it’ girl,” says Blalock. “She definitely enjoys being dressed.”

THE SITTER Tresa Fowler, pet sitter, Sweet Dreams Pet Sitting (678-449-9585, sweetdreamspetsitting.com)
Fowler likes taking Prada for play dates but ends up spending about half of her time sitting on the couch, massaging the pup. “She likes to be the center of attention,” says Fowler. “For some dogs, they like it, but she sort of demands it.”

THE PAPARAZZI David Perez, photographer (678-643-3113)
Perez captures Prada in her outfits in front of backdrops and in candid shots while she’s out and about with her other dog friends. “Prada certainly just loves to sit on the pedestal and just pose,” says Perez. “She’s very relaxed in that.”

Photograph by Christopher T. Martin

The Bully Problem

Amanda Heckert — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 15:31:00 GMT

Under the sagging ceiling tiles of the DeKalb County animal shelter, three rows of pit bulls await one of two fates: a new home or euthanasia. Sergeant T.C. Medlin walks along the aisles, petting muzzles through the chain-link. “These guys wouldn’t hurt a flea,” he says.

It’s been three years since the Michael Vick case put pit bulls in the national spotlight, but metro Atlanta seems to be as overrun with the breeds as ever. As of mid-September, Cobb County had taken in more than a thousand pit bulls in 2010. Here at the DeKalb shelter, five to ten arrive every day. Medlin and DeKalb shelter director Kathy Mooneyham blame in part irresponsible owners and small-time backyard breeders. The reform Vick’s verdict should have inspired, it seems, has stalled—if it ever began at all.

Technically, “pit bull” is not a breed; it’s shorthand for various purebred or mixed terrier and bulldog breeds. These so-called “bully breeds” abound in DeKalb’s arrival cages, but they actually account for just a quarter of the DeKalb shelter’s 260 canines. Pit bulls and mixes are kept one to a kennel for safety reasons, so there’s less room to house them. This also means the breeds are the most highly euthanized. And pit bulls, often feared because of attacks by the more aggressive of the breeds, aren’t adopted as quickly. (Though many pit enthusiasts argue that bad behavior and attacks can almost always be tracked back to irresponsible owners.)

In DeKalb it’s a little tougher: The shelter only gives pit bulls to rescue groups or adopters outside DeKalb, in part due to a county ordinance that says pit bulls are not “household pets.” How that’s interpreted is anyone’s guess. It’s not an outright ban, such as the one recently considered by Douglasville, and the vague wording means DeKalb pit bull owners are in little danger of a visit from code enforcement officers. But DeKalb, while lacking funding and a decent building, does have one arrow in its quiver that most other counties don’t: its own animal cruelty unit helmed by certified police officers, which began three years ago. That means punishment for pit bull abuse in DeKalb—whether by neglect, dogfighting, or beating—moved from a slap on the wrist at traffic court to jail time.

Medlin and his crew at times get calls

from Ashley Derrick, an Oakhurst Realtor. Derrick and her partner, Alison Grounds, rescued their first bully—their own American bulldog-pit mix, Brutus (pictured here)—six years ago after spotting him running loose in Decatur. The DeKalb shelter counts on Derrick and dozens like her to rescue the animals (which are put through temperament testing preadoption) and screen potential owners. Earlier this year, Derrick helped organize other local pit rescuers—including the Atlanta Bully Rescue, Animal Action Rescue, and Friends to the Forlorn Pitbull Rescue—into the Atlanta ResponsiBully Coalition, to fundraise and advocate together. Mooneyham credits the DeKalb shelter’s rescue rate, which has doubled in the past year, both to her tireless staff and to the growing number of these groups.

But Derrick—who spent $4,000 of her own money rescuing and helping dogs last year—often goes beyond shelter rescuing to help the breeds she calls loyal and sweet. She has convinced neglectful and abusive owners to let her buy their dogs. She’s rescued tethered, abandoned dogs. And she’s called animal control. A lot. She even once spearheaded a break-in at a shuttered, foreclosed home to save a starving pit bull left behind. The dog was underweight; her teeth, broken. While friends affectionately call her a vigilante, Derrick’s foes often use saltier language. “I’m not messing with nice people,” she says. “These are people who allow puppies to [run] in the streets, or are letting them die in the backyard. They don’t care about the dog. It’s a money issue.”

The money comes from the breeding. At rapper Big Boi’s Pitfall Kennels, for instance, puppies go for $1,500 and up. The problems often arise, though, when small-time breeders get overwhelmed with unwanted litters. Derrick was once at the DeKalb shelter when a box full of such pit bull puppies was dumped off. They were to be euthanized; the shelter just didn’t have the manpower to care for newborns. So she found a rescuer to take them. In fact, between e-mails to friends and her posts on Facebook and Petfinder, Derrick has been able to find homes not only for the shelter dogs she’s fostered but also for the twenty-eight or so pits she’s taken off the streets.

“I actually think Michael Vick getting arrested created more of a problem,” says Derrick. “I have seen the number of young African American men who have pit bulls increase threefold [since then]. In the country, it’s young white guys. This is not a black-white issue. It’s all over Georgia.” Derrick even has rescuer friends who have been approached in a local Target parking lot by people who see they have pit bulls—only to be asked if their dogs would like to “rumble.”

“Until we can create a way of preventing this on the front end, it’s an uphill battle,” says Derrick in late summer. She hopes the ResponsiBully Coalition will spur people—especially those in high places—to act via legislation, such as increased fines for not spaying or neutering. “It’s exhausting. It’s [a calling] I have to make myself not do 100 percent of the time.”

With that, Derrick leaves to pick up a dog from the vet. She rescued him that morning at the shelter, a big, gorgeous, blue bully mix. She snaps her fingers. “He’ll go like that,” she says of his adoption chances.

“Like that” was more like two weeks. And every day, more bully breeds come in off DeKalb streets to take his place.

Photograph by Matthew Wilder, courtesy of Ashley Derrick

Your Amazing Pets: Beauty and the Beast

Mon, 04 Apr 2011 15:14:00 GMT

It was an unlikely pairing, to be sure. But eight-month-old Mini Rex rabbit Shakira is the best thing to happen to Mack, a two-year-old bulldog-boxer mix. Soon after Midtown’s Nick and Rosa Arnold adopted Mack from the Atlanta Pet Rescue last April, it became apparent that the whip-smart dog was something of an escape artist. While they were at work, he would open doors, eventually mastering the dead-bolted front door. The Arnolds, thinking they were clever, tied the front door shut. So Mack showed them. He jumped through the window! Then, after that, two more. Rosa, who had a bunny as a child, convinced Nick that a cotton-tailed companion was in order. “At first it looked like he wanted to eat the bunny,” says Nick. But now the two are “best buds.” Mack and a leashed Shakira especially love to go on walks (and, in her case, eat grass) in Piedmont Park.