Humane Society of Greater Dayton Hosts Free Microchipping Event This Thursday

June 24, 2024, DAYTON, OHIO – The Humane Society of Greater Dayton is hosting a free microchipping event, “Chippin’ in the USA,” to help keep pets safe and reunite them with their families in case they get lost. The event will be held on Thursday, June 27th, from 1:00 PM to 5:45 PM at the Humane Society of Greater Dayton located at 1661 Nicholas Road, Dayton, OH.

Free Microchips, No Appointment Needed

This free event is open to the public, and no appointments are necessary. Walk-ins are welcome! Microchips are a permanent form of identification that can significantly increase the chances of a lost pet being returned home safely.

What to Bring:

• Cats: Please bring your cat in a carrier for their safety and comfort.
• Dogs: All dogs must be on a leash or in a carrier.

Prepare for Fourth of July

The Fourth of July is a notorious time for pets to escape or get loose due to loud fireworks. By microchipping your pet before the holiday, you can ensure a quicker and more successful reunion if they become separated from you.

Event Details:

• Date: Thursday, June 27th, 2024
• Time: 1:00 PM – 5:45 PM
• Location: Humane Society of Greater Dayton (1661 Nicholas Road, Dayton, OH)
• Cost: Free

For more than 120 years, the Humane Society of Greater Dayton has been a dedicated champion for both people and pets. With a steadfast commitment to all types of animals, including cats, dogs, rabbits, horses, farm animals, exotics, small animals, and more, the organization takes pride in its role as a comprehensive animal organization.

As an independent 501(c)(3) nonprofit, the Humane Society of Greater Dayton operates without government funding and maintains no affiliations with regional, state, or national animal shelters or humane societies. Every dollar raised directly supports their vital programs and services, making a tangible difference in the lives of animals and pet owners.

To learn more about their remarkable work, please visit www.hsdayton.org.

Not just a cat.

Deer In Headlines II

By Gery Deer

Nearly ten years ago, my chubby tabby cat named Bray was diagnosed with untreatable liver and kidney disease. He was 15 years old and had been in good health, but the level of pain and suffering he was going through was worsening. Knowing what was ahead, I was beside myself with grief.

On the farm, I learned not to get attached to animals because they weren’t there long. While we had livestock, we also had many barn cats, several different dogs throughout the years, and even a few ducks and peacocks. Of course, I had my favorites as I grew up, and some of the dogs and cats were friendlier and more social than others.

But this was different. Bray (a name cobbled together from the words “baby” and “gray”) was my buddy who saw me through some pretty rough times. He was my first indoor pet and had my attached garage as his condo – complete with climbing shelves and a loft.

Since I’ve worked at home for much of my career, Bray would be right there. He would wander in and settle on the recliner I used to keep in the converted bedroom I used as an office. Of course, he couldn’t be bothered with things like conference calls or answering the phone. After all, like other felines, he didn’t have an owner. He had staff – me. And that was fine.

Bray was always a little overweight. Born at my family’s farm, he was kind of a runt but quickly prospered once I brought him home. He no longer had to compete with six siblings. In fact, he just kept getting bigger. At his peak, he was about 18 pounds and, despite his size, all energy.

This is Bray doing one of his favorite things – 2008

He would chase me around the middle section of my house which circled through the hallways, living room, and kitchen. To this day, a strand of elastic string is tied to one of my closet doors with a plastic ball attached. It has a bell inside, and Bray spent what seemed like hours batting it around and holding onto it while gnawing on the elastic.

I used to laugh hard when he’d suddenly let go of the ball, and the elastic would snap back and knock the bell against the door. It was like someone went up behind him and said, “boo.” He’d take off running through the house, his claws struggling for traction as he ran across the slick kitchen floor.

But then Bray started losing weight. He wasn’t eating and was spending time hiding under the bed. For such a social animal, that was unusual behavior for him and sometimes a telltale sign that a cat is sick. We went to the vet, and sadly, his illness had come on pretty rapidly. Little could be done, and what was possible would be painful and expensive. Money was tight then, but regardless, at his age and stage of illness, a full recovery wasn’t likely.

Sometimes, he liked watching movies on Gery’s computer. (2006)

As much as we anthropomorphize them, animals can’t reason as we do, so Bray would have just been in pain with no understanding of what was happening to him. That seemed cruel – to both of us. So, I had to let him go.

I was with both my parents as they left this life. I’ve had to put down cattle that were sick or injured. I even sat with my childhood pony’s head on my lap as he took his last breath after 25 years of companionship. But, with all of that, I’ve had nothing cut me so deeply as having to be the one to decide my little cat was going to die.

My reasoning tells me it was for the best. Even after a decade, I wonder if I did the right thing. Eventually, we have to accept that we chose compassion for the animals we cared for because they depended on us. They’re family and some of the choices we must make on their behalf are easy, others are devastating. As for Bray, I’ll never forget him, and I know there’s someone out there reading this and saying, “It was just a cat.” Maybe to you, but I know better.