10 Years a Volunteer

And all he had to say was "Thanks" when I walked up to him and told him that next week would be the last time I come.

I'm 20. I've been volunteering at the animal sanctuary since I was 9. We fled only once due to weather, and have always worked through random heavy rains, ice storms, deep snow, and frigid Michigan temperatures. Then the summer, with high humidity and many mosquitoes and flies.

I've done some very disgusting jobs in my time there. One of the most recent ones was that a freezer of meat had stopped working, so the owner told me to go feed the meat to the wolves (as I volunteered at Michigan's only animal sanctuary capable of housing wolves),

I found the freezer and could smell the rot before I even opened it. Upon opening it, I grimaced. It was disgusting. Selecting samples, I decided all of it was waste and set to work (also enlisting a new volunteer who will replace me) cleaning it out.

Some of the meat had turned green-blue in areas. Christmas hams from the year before had gone black. Breathing through my mouth so as to try and not smell it, I still gagged as we pulled out the meat. Eventually we moved the freezer out of the deteriorating shed and tipped it over as blood poured out. I then began raking out the last of the meat and saw the black slime coating the bottom and lower sides.

Another memory to live with was Tim the Timber Wolf (yes, such an original name). He was only 3/4ths wolf, the other part being unknown dog, and was very over-weight but also very nice. He was one of the first wolves to like me.

The owners were gone one day, and we came out in the morning where we found his body frozen to the ground where he died.

In the end, I dug through the ice as best I could, only getting a few feet into the ground that early January (5 years ago this month?) and rolled him into the hole after separating his body from the ice. That Spring, we got another set of wolves there. His enclosure had been vacant, so they occupied it. I nicknamed the new wolf Grave Digger, for that is what he did.

During that entire year I was reburying fur and bones and filling in the holes with rocks, as well as putting large logs over it in an attempt to keep the body safe.

As a lead volunteer I often get wrongly blamed for things I didn't do. The owners complain about most every volunteer, so I can only imagine what they say to the other volunteers about us. I would have stayed had two long-term requests been fulfilled:

One was, "Put back what you take out," referring to the barrels of dog-food the male owner would take from and tell me to fill up (which became a simple conflict of us just staring at each other one day when he told me he wouldn't do it).

The other was, I wanted a sled. We had long ago brought one, but it went missing. I'm tired of dragging 400 pounds of dog-food through snow on a wagon-- the wheels of which don't want to turn in the snow. Sometimes I have to have someone else push it as I pull so I can transport the food the owner won't put in. We go from one side of the property to another with it.

The owner would have an easier time, as he has a Gator-- a heavy-duty golf-cart-- and a golf cart I'd use if he would repair the flat in the tire. When it was working, as soon as we got there he would take it to go feed the horses, so I rarely got to use it. (He happens to have a water truck he also uses for the horses).

For years I've medicated, loved, fed, watered, cleaned up after wolves and, in my first few years, also took care of the horses and 'farm animals'. When I got a job, I couldn't spend as much time there. I put off work by one hour; then, I began coming to the animal sanctuary an hour earlier so I could shower, eat the one meal a day I eat, and rest a little before work.

We all used to get along before I got a job, but now it's all false-face niceness.

For a long time I've wanted to stop, but they keep getting more animals-- from California to Florida, animals come-- so there is no end to their collecting. They require the help of others to take care of them, but other than myself and my mom, there is only one other 10-year volunteer. Most volunteers leave. We rely more on the community service people than people who want to do the work.

They never meet my requests-- a sled and putting in what he takes out would have seen me stay. In general, they don't listen. For 7 weeks I wrote notes and told them in various forms, "We need more dog food," becoming more and more urgent until on the 7th week I ran out. It took them over a month to meet that 500% needed request. There have been times where my mom bought the dog food because the owners did not.

Even here I've praised the work the owners do, but a lot of that was myself forcing myself to look at the good side. This is the bad side. There are numerous other problems, but no one and nothing is perfect, so I consider them irrelevant. I'm just tired of not being listened to. Again: I'm a volunteer. I don't get paid. I have work and college to attend to. If they want something to get done, they should listen to the requests of those who do the things.
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I wrote that last week. On Saturday there was yet another wolf-dog (what a surprise), and I ended up hurting my back "pretty good".
I ended up walking around taking pictures, and work decided it still needed me albeit I couldn't list anything or stand straight.

Photos in order:
Sheba and White Socks talking (everyone was howling). They're a couple of the last "originals".
Nero, a big dog who never stops moving.
One of a pair, Spirit.
One of the newer mixes, deciding he wants the llamas which are also newer and in desperate need of being shaven.