Sanctuary Roads and Buildings

Tomato Lane

2009-11-20T13:15:00Z

He was an orange and white tabby, abandoned as a teenager and rescued by Best Friends. But in spite of his meager beginnings, his photogenic looks and incisive talent with the pen would elevate him to an iconic status.

He was the first of our sanctuary animals to scribe a column in our magazine, and no Best Friends writer since has received the kind of accolades he did. You can include a "Purr Prize" to the many accomplishments, granted by no less than the Pulitzer Prize committee for "service to man's best friends." With that kind of prestige, the least Best Friends could do was name a road after him. Tomato Lane runs through Cat World in the upper portion of the sanctuary.

But behind the awards, the indelible words, the iconic status and the street name was a simple cat, plagued with a particular condition. Judah Battista, associate director of Community Services and Outreach at Best Friends, spent a good portion of his youth at the sanctuary, and remembers Tomato well.

"His one drawback was that every now and again he would lay a big booger on you. It was his major impediment to finding a home."

Tomato suffered from chronic upper respiratory infections (hence the boogers), but that did not deter him from being a "very affectionate cat," as Battista remembers him.

Nor did the occasional nostril blemish subvert his ability to ignite the camera. He became the poster cat for Benton's House, a refuge for the "slightly disabled" cats. There Tomato wrote his legendary columns in his office, which he shared with chums and fellow upper-respiratory-infection sufferers Mambo, Rumba and Chacha.

Written by Ted Brewer

Photo by Best Friends staff

Lucy Lou Lane

2009-11-06T16:56:00Z

The little loop right outside of Casa De Calmar was named for one of its most high-spirited, high-profile cats, Lucy Lou.

Even as a kitten, Lucy Lou was always ready for - no, make that always demanded - her close-up. As the uncontested Lobby Queen of Calmar, the home for Best Friends feline leukemia residents, Lucy Lou appointed herself as the official greeter to all who visited.

Joni Miller, training advisor for new staff working with cats, said Lucy Lou was one of the most beautiful calico cats she had ever seen.

"I think she knew it, too," Miller says. "Anytime anyone took out a camera, Lucy Lou came running to make sure she was not just in the photo, but center stage."

Lucy had a mischievous streak that just wouldn't quit. One time, Miller left a tin of butter cookies unattended on her desk. She came into her office only to find her "Royal Caliconess" eating right out of the tin she managed to push off the desk and open with her paw. On another occasion, Lucy Lou stole a peanut butter sandwich out of a closed backpack.

Lucy Lou always followed the sun. Literally. She loved to snooze in a little cat bed in the sunshine. When the sun had the nerve to follow its natural course in the sky and move away from her bed, Lucy Lou would meow for her "servants" to come and move her bed into the sun again. And again. And again.

"Of course we accommodated her," Miller says. "We did so because she was Lucy Lou, the Queen of Calmar - and everything else, too."

Lucy Lou succumbed to feline leukemia at the age of six. Miller said it was hard on everyone at Calmar when she passed. The little loop that is Lucy Lou Road is a reminder to everyone who visits to remember this feisty beauty queen of a cat with fondness and smiles.

Written by Amy Abern

Newkirk’s quirks

2009-11-02T19:30:00Z

Newkirk Road was named out of respect for a dog that, had he been able to talk, probably would have said something like, "You'd better name a road after me or I'm going to get into a rumble and refuse to eat my food."

Newkirk was a scrappy little Red Heeler mix dog that liked to pick fights with other dogs. He may have just been a little guy, but he had a big bully streak in him. And that's why for many years he lived out his life on "The Hill" the place for dogs who didn't get along with other dogs.

He came to Best Friends as a rambunctious little puppy but throughout his life, he went through some amazing transformations. Best Friends thought it only fitting to name a road after a pooch who transitioned from young, aggressive bully to wise, all-accepting senior dog.

Despite Newkirk's quirks, the Best Friends staff loved him. And he loved them right back. He enjoyed going on walks with caregivers, playing with humans and accepting the affections they bestowed on him.

In his later years, Newkirk developed arthritis and couldn't get around easily, so he was transferred to Old Friends. And somewhere along the line, he had evolved into a different animal altogether; he became a lover, not a fighter.

Colleen McMullen, executive assistant for the Best Friends Animal Care division, remembers Newkirk from her days working as a caregiver at Old Friends.

"He had become so mellow, Newkirk lived in what was referred to as the ‘Easy Run' at Old Friends because he could co-exist peacefully with dogs who were difficult to place," McMullen recalls.

"He went on a sleepover with some volunteers once. Apparently, he was really nervous being in new surroundings and did not enjoy the sleepover experience. So seeing him so happy to be back to his run at Old Friends, we knew he belonged at Best Friends. It was his home."

Newkirk passed away in 2005 and it seemed only fitting that a lifelong sanctuary resident should be remembered with his own road, which is near Old Friends in Dogtown Heights.

Written by Amy Abern

Photo by Troy Snow

Bernard Road

2009-10-27T04:50:00Z

Over the years, Best Friends has gotten its fair share of animals from the nearby polygamist community of Colorado City. This is a place that doesn't exactly inspire thoughts of good dog care, but that's not to say that people there haven't ever tried to do some good for their animals. Case in point:

Back in the 1990s, when Best Friends was still getting off the ground, a truckload of teenage siblings from Colorado City arrived at the sanctuary with a lab-shepherd mix named Bernard.

Bernard had a behavioral quirk-he would grab people by the arm with his jaws and lead them to wherever he wanted to go. He never broke skin, was never aggressive and didn't pose any threat. But such behavior didn't lend itself to being around children. And given the dog was a polygamist family pet, it wasn't as though he'd ever not be around children.

That's why this truck-load of teenagers was dropping him at Best Friends. As co-founder Faith Maloney remembers it, they feared what their father might do with Bernard should he ever see the dog indulging his mouthy behavior with one of the littler ones in the family. They wanted him to remain safe and well cared-for, and that's why they had brought him to Best Friends.

Of course, Best Friends accepted him. Since Best Friends had no trainers or behaviorists on staff back then, Bernard never got over his mouthy antics, but that was fine with the staff and founders. Bernard stayed for the remainder of his life, allowed to roam outside the runs and enjoy his life, and eventually honored with a road in his name.It leads to the Best Friends clinic from the upper canyon entrance road.

Written by Ted Brewer

Photo by Best Friends staff

Morgaine's Place

2009-10-20T21:23:00Z

When two interns volunteered at Best Friends Sanctuary, it was the cats who live at Morgaine's Place who especially touched them.

Morgan Nixon Murdaugh and her friend Letitia Harber Olson spent four weeks at the sanctuary for a college program. Now graduates, Murdaugh remembers Morgaine's as one of her favorite places at the sanctuary.

"In Morgaine's -- pronounced like my name -- I groomed, petted and played with a group of kitties termed ‘shy.' A calico named Cupcake teamed up with a gray feline named Prospero to steal my heart," she says.

It is exactly that kind of tender-loving care that Wendy and Stuart Wolf were hoping for when they donated funds for the building, which is named after their cat Morgaine. It was finished November 2001 at Best Friends' Cat World.

The couple, who live in the Pacific Northwest, made the investment in Morgaine's Place "because of their love for cats," says Best Friends co-founder Faith Maloney. And also, she points out, "in case anything happens to them, we will take their cats."

Judah Battista, associate director of Best Friends Community Programs and Services, adds, "They are great cat lovers who wanted to [construct] the building to help us in large part because we had been helping FeLV+ [feline leukemia-positive] cats."

In the lobby of Morgaine's Place is a framed poem titled "The Muse" that was written by Wendy Wolf. It reads, in part:

"The candle fades; I sip my tea,

My little cat perched lovingly

On the edges of my knee.

"I stroke her coat and feel her quiver

As sweet delight sends a delicate shiver

In waves along her silken fur."

Sitting and taking time with the cats who live at Morgaine's Place is how many volunteers, including Murdaugh, use their time.

"My favorite room at Morgaine's was the shy kitty room," she says. "I spent much of my time there playing with the cats. It was literally the best experience of my life."

Written by Cathy Scott

Photo by Best Friends staff

Amra and Rhonda

2009-10-16T13:44:00Z

It seemed like nothing could cheer little Rhonda up, no matter how much love and attention her caregivers showered on her. Whatever the little red terrier mix went through before coming to Best Friends seemed to have broken her spirit, robbed her of the sparkle in her eyes.

Then Amra came along, and he was just the medicine Rhonda needed.

Rhonda and Amra have long since crossed over the Rainbow Bridge, but their memories live on with their names gracing the signs on two of the roads in Best Friends Animal Sanctuary's upper canyon.

And their story continues to inspire.

It seems only fitting that Rhonda Road would meet up with Amra Alley, because in life, the dogs these roads were named after were inseparable.

The first time Rhonda set eyes on the stunningly handsome malamute, it was love at first sight. Rhonda pranced up to him and covered "his white-furred muzzle with tiny kisses," wrote Samantha Glen in her book, "Best Friends: The True Story of the World's Most Beloved Animal Sanctuary." Amra slid to the ground and rolled over on his side and Rhonda proceeded to groom him from head to toe.

The sparkle came back to Rhonda's eyes. Amra brought her back to life and it was the beginning of a lifelong love affair.

Amra and Rhonda were a bit of an odd couple, says Faith Maloney, a Best Friends co-founder.

"He was 145 pounds and she was 17 pounds. They did look odd traveling around together. She would nag him to move and get up just by barking in his face until he gave in. She would also lick his eyes regularly to keep him clean and nice looking."

Amra came to be known as "the Sheriff of Dogtown" and Rhonda was his chief deputy.

"Everywhere he patrolled, unearthing hidden tennis balls, confiscating contraband feeding bowls, or just keeping the peace, plain little Rhonda trotted by his side," Glen wrote.

When Amra's bone cancer began to get the best of him, the decision was made to let him peacefully cross over the Rainbow Bridge. As in life, Rhonda stood by and kept watch.

"It was how she took his death that stays in my mind," Maloney says. "I had her in the room when we euthanized him. I wanted her to know he was gone. We were not able to move him for burial that night so she stayed with him.

"Even after we moved him, she stayed at the old clinic for five days. She would ask to go outside to do her business and then came right back in. She didn't try to look at him, but it was the last place they had been together so she seemed reluctant to leave it."

Finally, Rhonda went outside one morning, and instead of going back into the old clinic, she trotted out to the Old Town Hall and took over Amra's job of greeting visitors, Maloney says.

Rhonda spent the last year of her life in a forever home in Atlanta with Sharyn Faro, who adopted Rhonda after reading a touching story about her devotion to Amra.

Rhonda passed away on Oct. 28, 1998, a year or so after Amra. Faro and her partner, Mia, put on two arts-and-antiques auctions for Best Friends in Rhonda's memory, raising $50,000 that helped build more dog buildings at the sanctuary.

Written by Sandy Miller

Photo by Best Friends staff

Sanctuary roads

2009-10-14T19:29:00Z

It's not easy getting a road named after you at Best Friends. The general requirements include the following: A clean driving record. An appearance as a guest star on the critically acclaimed NBC comedy, "The Office." And at least one Nobel Prize nomination.

Well, OK, that's something of an exaggeration - but still, it ain't easy. However, in the case of Benton Street, the powers that be at Best Friends agreed a road named in honor of one of the sanctuary's most famous residents, Benton the cat, is a road well named.

There's the logical reason: When following driving directions to Benton's House, (yes, this cat has a building named after him, too), people will know they're probably on the right track when they turn down Benton Street. And for those who have never driven around Best Friends sanctuary, that's pretty significant - the first few excursions tooling around the grounds often involve driving around in circles before finding the right place.

Then there's the emotional reason: Benton was a family cat. That is, until his family abandoned him when they moved away. He became a stray cat, no stranger to the streets. One day, he was hit by a car. Luckily, he came to Best Friends to heal.

Through newsletters and magazine articles, Benton became a major "cat of interest" to all Best Friends members. They followed his recovery, sent their best wishes and even gifts of his favorite food, salmon. He made a miraculous recovery, with only a club foot as a reminder of his accident.

When Benton was well enough to leave the Best Friends medical facility, he moved into a building with the general cat population. But a new cat building was being constructed to house "slightly disabled cats." Everyone agreed this would be Benton's new home; everyone also agreed the building should be named after him. And so it was.

As more cat buildings popped up, so did the roads leading to those buildings. When it came time to name the road on the way to Benton's Place, it was something of a foregone conclusion to give it the name, Benton Street.

Written by Amy Abern

Photo by Best Friends staff

Colonel’s Barracks

2009-10-09T12:29:00Z

The Colonel's Barracks houses some of the most mischievous cats living at Best Friends. It's why they're in the Wildcat Village part of Cat World. The building is named after one of the most mischievous cats of all: the Colonel.

He came to Best Friends because he really upset one of his human neighbors. It seems the Colonel liked to roam the semi-rural area he lived in, lie in the sun, stretch out in the grass by a babbling brook, visit the local farms and, uh, eat the chickens.

Yeah, it's that last part that got him in trouble. Seems he got caught with feathers in his mouth by the man who housed the chickens. He put a bounty on Colonel's head. The good people at Best Friends rescued him in the nick of time.

But the Colonel wasn't happy at Best Friends. He hissed, postured, didn't like people and didn't play well with others. Besides, he preferred the food options from his former life.

One of the caregivers, Marco, wasn't buying into his act. Marco worked with him every day for several weeks, assuring him that no one at Best Friends was going to kill him. The Colonel started making friends with his other feline housemates. And eventually, he got used to this stuff called cat food.

Before long, the Colonel evolved from a Big Meanie into a Big Softie. Founder Vivian Ebbs, a Best Friends founder, says the Colonel decided to become "the best ambassador he could be" for Best Friends.

"He had such a strong personality," Vivian says. "He really ran the barracks; he was definitely the alpha cat there. And whenever people came by, he'd take it upon himself to walk up to them and offer a proper greeting. He ended up loving people."

The Colonel never left Best Friends. Still, he lived a happy and well-loved life until the day he passed over the Rainbow Bridge. The Colonel's Barracks, named in his honor, is big, but is dwarfed by the memory of the Colonel's larger-than-life personality and heart.

Written by Amy Abern

Connect the Dotty

2009-10-01T11:55:00Z

Dotty was a sweet old gal, a gentle soul who got along with everyone.

The black, tan and white mixed-breed dog with the dots above her eyes was one of the senior residents at Best Friends' Dogtown.

Best Friends built the "suburban subdivision" called Dogtown Heights in the early part of the decade. Lynn Battista, a former Dogtown caregiver and manager, named the two octagons that make up what's known as the Fairway at Dogtown Heights. She named one of the octagons after Dotty, the first dog she ever fostered at Best Friends.

The digs at Dogtown and Dogtown Heights have indoor and outdoor play areas and plenty of toys to choose from. There's a fitness center and full-service veterinary clinic. There are wonderful caregivers and volunteers who give the canine residents lots of love and attention. But there's nothing quite as good as a forever home.

Like a lot of senior dogs, Dotty had a touch of arthritis. When the stiffness in her legs started to make it difficult for her to get around, Battista took Dotty home with her. Dotty died of old age a few months later, but she crossed over the Rainbow Bridge knowing what it was like to have a forever home.

Battista named the other Fairway octagon Petey after another Dogtown old-timer she took home with her.

Today, the Dotty and Petey octagons are home to almost 30 dogs -- all as laid back as the canines whose names grace the buildings. The dogs are especially popular with children who visit the sanctuary, and many of the dogs go on outings and sleepovers with volunteers and staff.

And the memories of Dotty and Petey live on in the hearts of the people who knew and loved them.

Written by Sandy Miller

Photo by Gary Kalpakoff

Leopold’s Lair

2009-09-25T07:25:00Z

With a name like Leopold, what kind of dog would you expect? Perhaps a bull mastiff, a Newfoundland, a St. Bernard or some other giant breed of dog?

But the Leopold for whom Leopold's Lair is named was not exactly in the "giant" category. He was a black Chihuahua mix, and weighed about six pounds.

For whatever he lacked in size, he made up for in bravado.

Co-founder Faith Maloney took care of Leopold, along with a bloodhound named Brunhilda. Brunhilda was never very nice to small dogs-except, that is, to Leopold.

"Leopold matched Brunhilda in attitude even though Brunhilda was 100 pounds bigger than Leopold was," Maloney remembers.

Even when surrounded by cats, a situation most Chihuahuas might not make through with skin intact, Leopold was undaunted.

"Leopold could walk happily through a room-full of cats and not be messed with," Maloney says.

The octagon that would bear Leopold's name emerged on the spot where Maloney lived in her single-wide trailer. This occurred often in the beginning of Best Friends: old trailers dragged away and dog octagons built in their spots since the water and electrical hook-ups were already in place, saving money on having to dig new trenches and lay more pipes and wires.

As it turns out, there's nothing lair-like at all about Leopold's Lair-it's sunny, open, and above ground. Dogtown staff gave the building the name simply because it had a nice, alliterative ring to it.

Written by Ted Brewer

Photo by Gary Kalpakoff

Petey’s pad

2009-09-22T21:24:00Z

Petey was one of Dogtown's old-timers. So when Best Friends built a "suburban subdivision" called Dogtown Heights back in the early part of the decade, former Dogtown manager Lynn Battista named one of the residences after the shy, black, mixed-breed canine she'd come to know and love.

"He was one of the most wonderful dogs I have ever met, and when I was asked to name the buildings at the Fairway [a neighborhood in Dogtown Heights], I decided on ‘Petey' as a remembrance to him," Battista says.

The residents of Dogtown and Dogtown Heights live in the octagons, which have indoor-outdoor play areas. They have access to a fitness center and a full-service veterinary clinic. They have wonderful caregivers and volunteers to give them lots of love and attention and take them on daily walks along the sanctuary's scenic trails.

But as nice as all those things are, there's nothing quite as good as a forever home. So Battista adopted Petey and took him home with her where he lived the good life for a few more years before crossing over the Rainbow Bridge.

The Fairway is made up of the last two buildings constructed at Dogtown Heights. In addition to Petey, there is Dotty, named after another former Dogtown resident, the first sanctuary dog Battista ever fostered.

"They were sweet, family-type dogs," remembers Sherry Woodard, animal behavior and training manager at Best Friends.

Today, the Petey building is home to about a dozen dogs - all of them as easygoing as the building's namesake. Many of them go on outings and sleepovers with volunteers and staff at the sanctuary.

And even though he's crossed over the Rainbow Bridge, Petey's legacy lives on with his name gracing one of the Fairway's buildings.

Written by Sandy Miller

Photos by Gary Kalpakoff and Best Friends staff

Ginger’s roots

2009-09-16T05:17:00Z

In the early days of Best Friends, co-founder Faith Maloney served as the only unofficial animal control officer for Kane County, Utah (the county in which our sanctuary is located), as well as for areas in northern Arizona that adjoin the county.

Whenever the highway patrol, county sheriffs, or local police had a case involving animals, she usually got the call. One night the police called her to a house where a man who had just been arrested for pulling a gun on his wife.

The man was a breeder of Chesapeake retrievers. There were nine of them at the house, and the man's wife wanted them all out. Maloney obliged, and had them safely transported to the sanctuary that night.

One of the dogs was named Ginger, and because Dogtown's runs were at capacity, Ginger and her two sons were allowed to romp around Dogtown unfettered-a vast improvement from being chained up at her previous residence.

Ginger had an abiding penchant for collecting tennis balls. Twice a day, she would make the rounds of Dogtown and collect each and every ball the other dogs had left behind. She would deposit those balls under a single tree that Best Friends founders dubbed the "federal reserve tree." Balls were a kind of currency in the economy of Dogtown, and it was Ginger's job to keep the economy vibrant by centralizing the wealth at a single location and making it available for dispersal. Other dogs did the dispersing.

Having performed her duties as a ball collector so admirably, Ginger got a building named after her.

Written by Ted Brewer

Photo by Gary Kalpakoff

Hermosa’s Hideout

2009-09-10T12:53:00Z

It goes with the job of rescuing animals - encountering people so blithely callous to animals you wonder which planet they have come from. Co-founder Faith Maloney, who in the 1980s served as unofficial animal control in Kanab, Utah, the area in which Best Friends is located, has certainly met her fair share of these kinds of people. But one man, after all these years, still sits in her mind like a thorn.

The county sheriff one day asked Maloney to pick up a rabbit from this man's house. Apparently, the man couldn't afford to feed the rabbit anymore. While Maloney was there picking up the rabbit, he asked if she wanted to take the family dog as well.

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"Kids are going back to school so we don't want her anymore. I was going to shoot her when she finished the bag of dog food."

Too shocked to speak, Maloney gathered the dog and the bunny and left.

"I don't think I will ever get over the casual way some people relate to life," Maloney says. "Why waste the food? Let the dog eat the remainder of the food. Then shoot her. Made sense to him."

Back at the sanctuary, the founders renamed the dog Hermosa, which means "beautiful" in Spanish. Later, in honor of the dog, the founders named one of the octagons after her. The "hideout" part of the name came from the Old West theme the founders had running in the early days. Hideouts were, of course, places where bandits would go to evade the law.

But the name could just as well have conveyed a place where dogs, like Hermosa, could find sanctuary from the brutish approach certain people take to animals.

Written by Ted Brewer

Photo by Gary Kalpakoff

Vinny’s Place

2009-09-03T23:08:00Z

Vinny's Place was constructed by a builder that couldn't spell.

But Vinnie didn't really care at all about that; spelling wasn't a high priority in his life. Vinnie was a cat.

He was found with several other feral cats and brought to Best Friends. None of them were doing very well, including Vinnie. He had an upper respiratory condition and a bad eye infection.

He caught the attention - and the heartstrings - of Vivian Ebbs, a Best Friends founder. At the time she was working as a vet tech, so she saw Vinnie every day. She cleaned and brushed his matted coat. She put drops in his eyes, petted him and told him everything would be okay. Over time, Vivian uncovered the beautiful cat buried beneath layers of dirt and hard living.

"One day, I noticed he just blossomed; it was really something to see his transformation," she says.

Vinnie made a full recovery; and enjoyed a healthy life for many years. He was best friends with all the other cats in his house and made friends with all the people who came to visit.

In his twilight years, Vinnie's urinary tract infection came back. Sometime around his 20^th birthday, he passed over the Rainbow Bridge.

"Best Friends was the only home he ever knew," Vivian says. "Naming the building after this special boy seemed like a fitting forever tribute to a cat we'll remember forever."

And it doesn't bother Vivian anymore that his name is spelled wrong on the building. It doesn't change the fact that she and many others luved him!

Written by Amy Abern

Photo by Gary Kalpakoff

Jethro

2009-08-27T15:21:00Z

Like many dogs, Jethro came to Best Friends to avoid death. Not the euthanasia kind of death that comes from being in an animal control facility, but rather the kind of death that comes from being the target of a mafia hit.

Jethro was living in Arizona. He was hungry, on the verge of starving. And so he ate some chickens. The person who belonged to those chickens warned the locals that Jethro was going to be "a dead dog."

So Best Friends made sure that man never saw Jethro again. As the story goes, a volunteer traveled to Arizona and picked up Jethro in the dark of night and whisked him away witness-protection style. He arrived at Best Friends safe and sound.

Jethro lived in old Dogtown when he first came to the sanctuary because Dogtown Heights, the Best Friends residence that would become his permanent home, hadn't been built yet. He settled in nicely as a dog that got along well with people and other dogs.

Dogtown manager Michelle Besmehn remembers Jethro as "a sweet, goofy guy." "Jethro had a very sweet disposition and thought of everyone as his friend."

When Dogtown Heights was finally built, Jethro moved over the Garden as an "out" dog, which means he was allowed to roam free and greet all visitors and staff coming to the area. There, he lived out his days until he crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

It seemed only fitting since Jethro had such a dramatic entrance to Best Friends - and never enjoyed a forever home of his own - at the very least he deserved a heart-felt memorial that would live on in his name.

That's how Best Friends came to name one of the octagons at the Garden "Jethro," a forever tribute to a dog who escaped death to become a sweet, loving "lifer" at Best Friends.

Written by Amy Abern

Photo by Molly Wald