By Richard Farinato

Sixteen million birds, 18 million small mammals, and 11 million reptiles live with us in homes across the United States, along with 90 million cats and 73 million dogs. When animals whom we keep as companions suffer because of a natural disaster, the animal victims include many more creatures than just beloved dogs and cats. The HSUS opposes the private ownership of wild and exotic (non-native) animals, but as our disaster response teams work to help all animals in Hurricane Katrina's aftermath, many of these creatures have been rescued, and are being treated at the Lamar-Dixon Expo Center in Gonzales, Louisiana.

As I hurriedly set up cages in a box stall at Lamar-Dixon, I hear the unmistakable piercing call of a small South American parrot amid the chorus of barking dogs and mewing cats. 

New arrival, I think; better see what’s up. 

I walk over to an area where Veterinary Medical Assistance Teams (VMAT) vets are examining incoming animals, and find a sun conure in a cage waiting to be examined. As soon as the vets have given him the once-over, he’ll be handed off to me for care. He’ll be added to the growing group of rescued exotic pets coming in from the New Orleans area, whose members are pretty much anything other than dogs or cats. Ferrets, sugar gliders, rabbits, rats, mice, hamsters, reptiles, amphibians, birds, pot-belly pigs, pigmy goats, domestic ducks and bantam chickens; they're all grouped in one area, hopefully to simplify care and keep them in a relatively quiet area.

Some come to us in their cages or other container that can house them indefinitely. Others arrive in cat carriers, or pillow cases, or in the compartments of an animal control vehicle, and must be moved into something secure and appropriate. Some arrive in need of fluids to correct the dehydration that has set in; the majority, fortunately, are in good physical shape, and just need food, water, and a kind word or touch to settle down in the emergency shelter. 

By the morning of September 10, the “exotics ward” had more than 60 residents. Each animal has his or her own story, some of which we human caretakers know, some of which we can only guess at.

One of the first residents was handed to me from an incoming animal control truck by a rescuer who said “Snake. Pulled him out of the water.” 

Taking the pillowcase, I untie the knot carefully, and get a glimpse of the critter, which turns out to be an albino king snake, someone’s escaped pet. I remove him, check his condition, and pass him off to a vet, who examines him visually and then returns him to me. He gets secured in his pillowcase again, his paperwork is completed to note the location where he was picked up, and it’s off to deal with a pot-belly pig on the same truck, a boar with tusks three inches long. 

The pig has a space waiting for him in a nearby barn. After he’s settled in, another animal control officer tells me his feet need attention because of overgrown hooves. That will have to wait, as the first priorities for these animals are health checks, housing, food, and water.

Two ball pythons arrive in separate small plastic containers. The containers are filled with filthy water and debris. The snakes get baths, the containers get cleaned, and they are added to the ward. They are owned, and tagged with the owner’s information to await reunion. At the same time, a six-foot plus boa with a bit of an attitude must wait in his pillowcase for the arrival of a large plastic storage tub, his temporary home.

A pair of pigmy goats arrives in a dog crate on a small trailer filled with dogs. After I move them into a stall, the male begins to show signs of lethargy and heat stress. A large animal vet examines him, finds normal activity in his rumen (a good sign), doses him with an antibiotic, and tells us to monitor him. By midnight, he’s drinking, and has a better outlook when I get him and his mate some leafy tree branches from the Expo Center grounds.

By far, birds outnumber the rest of the temporary residents. Parakeets, cockatiels, ringneck parakeets, conures, African gray parrots, Amazon parrots, macaws, and cockatoos fill horse stalls—calling, preening, bathing, feeding, and scrapping with their cage mates or neighbors. That list of activities is just what we want to see; it’s a good sign that there is some semblance of normal behavior occurring. 

One somewhat sensitive African gray took longer than most of his stall mates to get used to his temporary accommodations, but by the middle of the day after he arrived, he, too was feeding, calling and responding to me, and to the other staffers.

Like many of the animals rescued from New Orleans, these exotics are owned animals, awaiting pickup by people searching for someplace to take them to. A hamster and two sugar gliders were reclaimed in less than a day. Hopefully, this will continue to be the case for the rest of the group. 

The day before I left, I had an experience that reminded me that our efforts in this disaster are worthwhile, despite the less than ideal the temporary living conditions for these unique animals. A couple came to me and asked if I knew anything about their snake, whose picture they showed me.

He was an albino king snake, and I knew just where they could find him.

Richard Farinato is The HSUS's Director of Captive Wildlife Programs and the Wildlife Advocacy Division.