Recent changes at borough Animal Care are encouraging to writer

Spectrum, by Gale Landingham

The state of Alaska says there's about 65,000 humans living in the Mat-Su Borough. A few years back, the borough estimated there were more than 100,000 domesticated animals living here as well. The statistics on homeless humans and domesticated animals are hard to pin down. MSB estimates that our human homeless population seldom dips below 500 people (and is often nearer 1,000). The number of homeless animals is nearly inestimable, but must be enormous. Our shelter has admitted more than 1,000 animals in just the last eight weeks, and more than half of them were in need of new homes.

So, we've got a homeless problem in the Valley; there are less than 50 beds for select groups of homeless humans. We have one tax-funded animal shelter in the borough, the Mat-Su Animal Care and Regulation shelter, providing kennels for a maximum of 90 animals. Houston has found a generous dog musher, Plettner Kennels, to provide far less shelter space than needed for animals in their jurisdiction while they look for alternatives.

The Mat-Su Borough, if compared as a whole to the rest of the communities in our state, is the third largest in population, just behind Anchorage and Fairbanks. In contrast, our area is 24,000 square miles -- Anchorage is only a 12th that size, Fairbanks is less than a third. Here's the shocker. We have five -- that's right, just five -- animal care and regulation officers to cover everywhere between Talkeetna, Point MacKenzie and Chickaloon, 365 days a year. This includes dealing with the humans involved -- paperwork, court cases, etc. There are also three shelter staff, one veterinarian and three on-call staff to care for all the animals that make it to the shelter. Their jobs include dealing with all the humans and all the paperwork involved as well. The shelter's volunteer program is in a bad state; the volunteer coordinator for the borough's Public Safety Department is also responsible for all the volunteers in the fire departments and emergency medical services, leaving her with no time for shelter volunteer coordination. As a result, untrained and unsupervised volunteers often contribute to the workload rather than lightening it. Too few people, doing too big a job, with too little money and too little community support.

You know what those numbers mean: Lots of complaints from those of us who use the borough's Animal Care and Regulation services.

Early in life I learned that complaining leads to change -- I said the oatmeal was yucky, I got Malt-o-Meal a few days later. Then I discovered that if I joined forces with other complainers, we could get bigger changes -- my favorite grocery store started carrying organic produce. Encouraged by good results, I became a constant complainer. Constant complainers are referred to in polite company as "critics" (we're referred to in private by less complimentary words).

Unfortunately, the danger of joining the "critic contingent" is that we can become counter-productive; instead of effecting change, we can cross a line from helpful discourse to the creation of hostility and barriers to communication.

The issues surrounding compassionate treatment of homeless humans and animals are dear to my heart, and I spend a lot of time talking to people about them. A good-hearted man recently warned me that I'm dangerously close to crossing that line in my efforts on this topic. This was a wake-up call I'm grateful to have received. Good intentions don't count for much if we disregard or criticize the people already involved in issues or organizations we want changed.

I, for one, am happy with some recent changes -- the shelter has always needed a full-time vet, and getting her on board was a hard-won victory. The regulations for handling animal problems have been improved, and recently ratified by the assembly. More changes are on the way, and I hope to be a helper rather than a critic.

Gail Landingham is a Wasilla resident.