Wholesale

Here's the Deal  

(Fiction:  Copyright 2014 Liz Zélandais)

As superheroes go, I play against type. My short stature and buzz-cut are reminiscent of Peter Pan; and being a single mom makes me an oddity in The Coalition. But when they're shopping for the latest hero-mobile or aerodynamic wardrobe with wicking technology, I'm the one they tap to negotiate the deal.

Hints of my super power emerged in elementary school. The cafeteria ladies would add extra fries or another carton of milk to my tray. “No charge, Sweetie.”

But it was only a few years ago that I knew. As I retreated from a stunning dress in Ann Taylor's new spring collection, the sales assistant sprinted after me, begging me to take it for fifty percent off. I hesitated. She dropped the price another thirty percent. I bought the dress and began investigating this anomaly.

My boss doubled my salary after a single request. The board of a hideously expensive private school agreed to start a “differently privileged” scholarship fund and admit my two children. Queen Catherine Cruise Lines gave me their stateroom suite at a price usually reserved for boiler-room occupants.

Every successful negotiation showcased my growing confidence and skill. Joining The Coalition was better than being voted Homecoming Queen. Most importantly, I was giving my kids the best of everything.

I don’t know when the euphoria gave way to the realization that my life had become a cesspool of stuff. Designer stuff. Techie stuff. My children were vapid consumers, fixated on video screens and unable to utter an intelligible sentence.

I met my friend, Amazon Woman, for lunch. She was sporting Prada we had scored at Wal-Co prices during Milan Fashion Week. Once seated, I said, “Ama, I'm miserable. Defying the laws of economics was fun at first, but now it’s meaningless and overwhelming.” The waiter interrupted to deliver menus and to say that our lunch would be compliments of the house.

Ama arched one eyebrow. “You're expecting sympathy?”

“No, but I would sell my soul to recapture a sense of purpose.”

As we ate enchiladas and sipped margaritas, our conversation turned to shop talk—crime fighting, identity trademark infringement, and the turbulent relationship of Lightning Man and Copper Girl.

When I was leaving the restaurant, a man with the dark, angular looks of a GQ model approached.

“Madam, I can help you with your problem.”

I’m seldom susceptible to handsome men, but something about this one made me flush. “Do I know you?”

“Call me Luc. I am in the soul-purchasing business, and I overheard your interest in such a transaction. Your soul for a purposeful and passionate life.”

He was genius. I started working with governments and organizations needing my skills; and formerly starving families thrived as they got food, health care, and education. My kids got back on track.

There's one problem. Luc makes for attentive and charming arm candy, and my children adore him. But now that I own the soul of Satan, what do I do with it?

Saving Helen

Nothing about Helen is typical. She is a blind mare whose rescue occurred in a 2009 raid of a puppy mill, where the owners were as neglectful of their horses as of their 400 dogs. Found locked in a tiny, dark shed, Helen was standing ankle-deep in manure and urine with a one-year-old stud colt still trying to nurse. When she was brought to Dane County Humane Society (DCHS), caregivers determined that her blindness was probably due to cataracts and possible glaucoma. They were happy to learn that Helen showed no signs of physical abuse—she was not “head shy”, didn’t kick, and had an air of horsey kindness about her. Helen was, in fact, more mellow than many sighted horses. Her age was uncertain, but estimated at 12-15.

From 2009 to 2011, Helen was fostered and available for adoption. Even during a good economy, it can be difficult to find homes for rideable, healthy horses with known histories. For a blind horse of unknown age and background, during a recession, the challenges for placement multiply. Helen was well cared for, but still without her forever home.

When pressure and pain in her eyes increased last November, Helen was brought back to DCHS so she could receive closer care. It seemed likely that she was going to need an enucleation (surgery to remove both eyes). DCHS staff began brainstorming ideas to raise funds for this expensive procedure, but were concerned that even after surgery, Helen’s chances for adoption would be small. Through all of this, one thing was constant:  to know Helen was to love her. Betsy Halat, DCHS Pet Matching and Second Chances Adoption Coordinator, became an immediate fan.

“I checked on Helen the night she was brought back to the shelter. Having owned horses, I know how nervous they can be in new environments, especially if the horse is blind. Helen was in her stall, munching her hay, looking content. When I went into her stall and scratched her neck, she happily leaned in; and I knew just how special this horse was.”

After long consideration, DCHS staff made the difficult decision that due to the high cost of the enucleation surgery and the shelter’s lack of facilities for long-term equine housing, Helen would have to be euthanized if there were no prospects for her placement or rescue. Sara Chrisler, a Senior Veterinary Technician at DCHS, made a final heroic effort to save the sweet mare. She began researching reputable equine rescues, and emailed all she could find—including national rescues for blind horses and large national rescues DCHS has worked with for other species—asking for sanctuary for Helen. Hopes dwindled as each reply came back “No”. No room. Scarce resources. Unable to accommodate a blind horse.

 Then Sara received a response from Sandy Gilbert of Refuge Farms in Spring Valley. Would DCHS sponsor the surgery if Refuge Farms agreed to give Helen a home?

Yes.

Other rescues were full and resources scarce. Was the situation at Refuge Farms so different? When asked, Sandy responded, "Our maximum is 12. Helen will make 14. We’re full, too. But when I read Sara's email, there was..." At that point she teared up, and the passion Sandy has for her mission was apparent. “There was just something about Helen I knew was special, and that I couldn't let her die. Some things are meant to be, and this felt like one of them."

When Sandy brought her trailer to DCHS, she whispered to Helen,"Let's take you home." Helen companionably walked with her to the trailer like old friends.

 Upon arriving at Refuge Farms, Helen began saving others. Another mare, blinded from head trauma, was skittish, untrusting, and terrified of everything. When Helen arrived, both blind mares made a little squeal—and haven't left each other's sides since. A small miracle occurred as Helen’s presence seemed to calm the other mare and help her trust. As Sandy keeps reminding us, “Some things are just meant to be.”

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DCHS (and many other shelters and human societies) takes in all types and sizes of animals. From mice to horses, they  welcome all pets and offer them the best care possible. DCHS has found homes for horses, goats, chickens, ducks, pot-bellied pigs, iguanas…even a tarantula! Anyone looking for a family pet should check with DCHS (or your local shelter/humane society), or get on a waiting list to be notified if a specific type of animal comes in. Like Helen, many great homeless animals are waiting for their forever home--and to rescue you.