By Laura Bevan

Jackson, Mississippi

Night has come to the Jackson Fairgrounds, the location of a pet friendly shelter for evacuees from the coast and the staging area for all relief efforts for animals in Mississippi. Located 200 miles from the Gulf, it was dealt a hard enough punch, a frightening indicator of the devastating blow dealt to areas further south and especially on the coastline.

I'm the leader of The HSUS's on-the-ground rescue and relief efforts in Mississippi. But just three weeks ago, I was here, in Jackson, training Disaster Animal Response Teams in conjunction with the Mississippi Board of Animal Health, which has been working on the state's disaster plan for several years. The weekend after I left, the agency conducted its own animal-friendly shelter training, using the materials I left behind. Now, we are all back together putting those plans into action.

Every year since Hurricane Andrew decimated Florida in 1992, I have gone to hurricane and emergency management conferences on behalf of The HSUS to preach about disaster planning for animals. Every year, there is talk of the storms that took place the year before, but also of the "big one," the one that hasn't happened yet.

Now it has.

Watching Katrina lumber into the Gulf after battering Southern Florida, then grow stronger and larger, I knew we were in for a bad time. But how bad was beyond anyone's comprehension.

Today assessment teams swept through the counties between Jackson and the coast to determine all the animal needs in the area. Tomorrow, Melissa Forberg, our National Disaster Animal Response Team (N-DART) coordinator, will take a strike team composed of The HSUS, Humane Society of Missouri, and American Humane Association members, and join the federal Veterinary Medical Assistance Teams (VMAT) in assessing Jackson County, the coastal community that borders Alabama. We have not received even a trickle of information from the area, leaving us all anxious to know if the animal shelters, veterinary clinics, and horse stables survived.

We all know too much of the horror of its neighboring county to the west.

Harrison County, Mississippi—home to Gulfport, Biloxi, and smaller communities—has been virtually wiped off the map. Search and rescue continues for humans, and the death toll rises by the hour. The animal death toll, incomprehensible in number, remains unknown.

It is in Harrison County where a 30-foot storm surge swamped the Humane Society of South Mississippi, drowning hundreds of dogs and cats in their cages. The shelter itself is destroyed, and the survivors are now being collected to be moved from the area as soon as possible. The society is also coping with the tragic loss of a long-term employee who drowned in his home along with family members.

Words are too meager to express the horror and grief all of us here are feeling. We may not have known those animals or the staff member who worked with them. We may not have personally known the distinct personalities of each of those animals, or worked side-by-side with the dedicated staff member who was lost to the flood, but their losses, and the survivors of the society are part of our humane family. We grieve for them.

Now, our job is to help the people and animals of Mississippi pick up the pieces and build a new world and renewed lives. Our experiences in Florida's four hurricanes last year have equipped us with the guidance to deal with a disaster larger in scope than all of them put together.

Sitting here as the night quiet settles over the compound of trucks, trailers, big rigs, and tents, I know our work will not end in the next week or the next month. The extent of the animal and human need here is  overwhelming, but I am committed, we are all committed, that those needs will be met. There really is no other option.