Pets in New Orleans
Pets in New Orleans
The New York Times
October 17, 2005
In the Search for Pets, Surprising Discoveries
LILY KOPPEL
NEW ORLEANS
Their mission was to track down three cats and two dogs that owners had left behind. But then the rescue team found Jerry Bolognia.
"I had no place to go," explained Mr. Bolognia, a storm cloud of white hair and a long beard masking his shaken expression, after the team spotted him one afternoon last week in a storm-battered white clapboard house in the Ninth Ward.
"Don't worry about me," he said in a monotone, blue eyes open wide, as he paced around in soiled red-striped pajamas and bedroom slippers. "No, thank you," he repeated as the team offered food and water. Some supplies had been left by an animal-rescue volunteer who had come across him earlier.
Alone, Mr. Bolognia had ridden out Hurricane Katrina in a sitting room where no windows had broken. But the attic had spilled through the ceiling into a room that looked like an archaeological site. Atop a floor caked with mud, chemical residue and kitty litter were a huge ball of rope, an antique wooden sewing machine and a painting of a man fording a swamp with a covered wagon, his dog running along the bank.
"Not my family," he said of the portraits hanging on a wall. "Lady who lives here. Left. Went to a shelter or someplace. I just didn't want to go."
The official search for bodies left by Hurricanes Katrina and Rita has ended, but recovery work goes on. Animal-rescue teams staffed by volunteers - like this crew from a shelter called Mutt Shack - continue to search for dogs and cats and birds, often turning up people like Mr. Bolognia.
A short list of questions was delicately asked: name, age, date of birth. After each came a silence, then a short, whispered answer. He would turn 70 the following day.
"Oh man, I have to go through this now?" he said as he was handed a pink form containing all his answers by a woman, an emergency medical worker who had arrived with an ambulance.
"Your birthday is tomorrow?" she asked with a smile.
"Yes."
"Doing anything?"
"Yes."
"What are you doing, going out?"
"Yes."
The ambulance would not be needed. Mr. Bolognia was deemed mentally and physically sound, and would be allowed to stay. But he was surprised to hear that there had been not one but two, hurricanes.
"Is there another one coming?" he wanted to know.
Asked what he was thinking during Hurricane Katrina, he said, "Wishing I was dead."
Meanwhile, the rescuers searched under the house for a Shar-Pei whom Mr. Bolognia called Marty. "They're not going to catch that dog, man," he said. "That dog's wild." LILY KOPPEL
The New York Times
October 17, 2005
In the Search for Pets, Surprising Discoveries
LILY KOPPEL
NEW ORLEANS
Their mission was to track down three cats and two dogs that owners had left behind. But then the rescue team found Jerry Bolognia.
"I had no place to go," explained Mr. Bolognia, a storm cloud of white hair and a long beard masking his shaken expression, after the team spotted him one afternoon last week in a storm-battered white clapboard house in the Ninth Ward.
"Don't worry about me," he said in a monotone, blue eyes open wide, as he paced around in soiled red-striped pajamas and bedroom slippers. "No, thank you," he repeated as the team offered food and water. Some supplies had been left by an animal-rescue volunteer who had come across him earlier.
Alone, Mr. Bolognia had ridden out Hurricane Katrina in a sitting room where no windows had broken. But the attic had spilled through the ceiling into a room that looked like an archaeological site. Atop a floor caked with mud, chemical residue and kitty litter were a huge ball of rope, an antique wooden sewing machine and a painting of a man fording a swamp with a covered wagon, his dog running along the bank.
"Not my family," he said of the portraits hanging on a wall. "Lady who lives here. Left. Went to a shelter or someplace. I just didn't want to go."
The official search for bodies left by Hurricanes Katrina and Rita has ended, but recovery work goes on. Animal-rescue teams staffed by volunteers - like this crew from a shelter called Mutt Shack - continue to search for dogs and cats and birds, often turning up people like Mr. Bolognia.
A short list of questions was delicately asked: name, age, date of birth. After each came a silence, then a short, whispered answer. He would turn 70 the following day.
"Oh man, I have to go through this now?" he said as he was handed a pink form containing all his answers by a woman, an emergency medical worker who had arrived with an ambulance.
"Your birthday is tomorrow?" she asked with a smile.
"Yes."
"Doing anything?"
"Yes."
"What are you doing, going out?"
"Yes."
The ambulance would not be needed. Mr. Bolognia was deemed mentally and physically sound, and would be allowed to stay. But he was surprised to hear that there had been not one but two, hurricanes.
"Is there another one coming?" he wanted to know.
Asked what he was thinking during Hurricane Katrina, he said, "Wishing I was dead."
Meanwhile, the rescuers searched under the house for a Shar-Pei whom Mr. Bolognia called Marty. "They're not going to catch that dog, man," he said. "That dog's wild." LILY KOPPEL
posted by Joe Paris at Tuesday, November 01, 2005
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