To Everything There is a Season by Donna Wilkins, ICHBA Founder

Who would have thought that cleaning Hal Aldridge’s teeth 35 years ago would have anything to do with becoming the founder of the animal rescue, I Could Have Been Adopted?

Hal had moved to our rural community to live with his sister. For years he’d been in California where he danced (hoofing) his way onto the silver screen in some of Hollywood’s best musicals. He had had an exciting life, and even when I met him in the mid 70’s, when he was nearly deaf, he still had a passion for show business.

At one of his dental cleaning appointments I suggested we start a “little theatre” in Robertson County. Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a conversation since he had my hand, a U-15 scaler, and a dental mirror in his mouth, but I understood by his mumbled response, and a certain twinkle in his eyes that he liked the idea. That conversation resulted in the Robertson County Players (RCP), a community theater.

After years of success, going dark for about a decade in the 90’s, and the deaths of all but three founders, the Robertson County Players (RCP) is flourishing. Five years ago I once again found myself on its board of directors. As part of giving back to the community, we began a program called “Playing it Forward,” a fundraiser that donated a dollar from each ticket sold during a season to another non-profit in our community.

Robertson County Animal Control (RCAC) applied for the proceeds from our “Playing it Forward” fundraiser, hoping to raise money for PetSmart’s “Rescue Waggin” program, which transports 15 dogs from participating southern shelters to the northeast shelters who, because of strict spay/neuter laws, need adoptable dogs.  Four different nonprofit organizations applied that year, but RCAC was not chosen.

But…they did bring a dog to their presentation.

I didn’t grow up a passionate animal lover.  I can remember one dog from childhood and certainly NO cats! But when my daughter was around five, Pywaket and Titchiba became members of our family. They were male and female Siamese cats named after the cat in Bell, Book, and Candle and a character in The Crucible. Every time they got into trouble they hid in the bottom of a milk can that sat in the kitchen corner. Pywaket’s head would appear, reminding me of a wise old owl, slowly surveying its territory to make sure the coast was clear…They were inside cats and my daughter’s security in a family in chaos. I came home from work one afternoon and discovered her cuddled in her dad’s lap, both of them crying…Titchiba had escaped the house and died in the middle of our busy street.

…Then Pywaket became homeless, he and my daughter victims of divorce

Later, having gathered myself, I brought Turquoise home, tucked away in my tote as a surprise for my daughter. A solid black female with green eyes whose name was shortened to Turkey…poor thing!  Turkey loved cheese. The ends of her fur coat on her right flank were burned brittle after she romped around a candlelit table top. She seduced that “can’t live with a cat” guy until I married him. After being with us for nine years, she didn’t come home when I called her for dinner one evening.  After searching our house and driving the streets, I called a friend who had delivered some items to us that day. She had not seen Turkey, but she did admit that her son had left the side door open while they were unloading packages, and “well,” she had said, “like any cat, Turkey is curious.” Bless my friend’s heart.

We’ve had other felines: Little Bit came to us when our daughter left home.  After eighteen years, she had to be put to sleep. Sadie, a beautiful solid grey girl, arrived on our windowsill every night at dinner and wooed us until we let her inside. Once, the housekeeper showed up with Miss Kitty, a lovely calico who had been plucked from the side of an Alabama highway. Miss Kitty still rules the roost and my husband gives up his favorite chair if she wants it. Finally, and most recently we adopted Tess. She is a grey tabby, plays scrabble online, and sleeps curled up around my cold hands when I watch TV.

But when I saw the eyes of the homeless dog at the Robertson County Players board meeting, everything changed for me. I went from being an animal admirer to an animal advocate because all I saw in his those dark brown eyes was pain. I felt both extreme sorrow and guilt for my past transgressions against animals. I had abandoned Pywaket during the divorce, letting my daughter down at a time when she needed her cat the most.  I had not advocated for Turkey when I said, “Don’t worry about it” to a friend, who had carelessly left a door open all the while knowing Turkey was an inside cat.

The funny thing is, staring into that dog’s melancholy face, my grief turned to anger. And I became pissed!  Those things would not have happened had I been a better caregiver to the living beings I had brought into my space.  And the only way I could ease the guilt, which can still make me cry when I think about it for too long, was to do something about it. In November 2012 I founded the grassroots, animal advocacy group I Could Have Been Adopted. In the past sixteen months, I Could Have Been Adopted (ICHBA) has rescued and rehomed 147 cats and dogs.

I’ll admit, on some days, when I’m tired and fully realize what a huge undertaking I’ve committed to, I think of that saying “karma’s a bitch.” But to soften the blow I must look at it as “to everything there is a season.”  So, as I approach seventy, in the winter of my life, it’s suddenly raining cats and dogs and, like Gene Kelly, I find myself singing and dancing in the rain…..most of the time.

I Could Have Been Adopted?  It’s for Pywaket, Turkey, and that sad homeless dog at a board meeting, plus every other dog and cat that never had a home or that got lost somewhere along the way.

Please help I Could Have Been Adopted continue to help homeless animals in the rural south. Any donation, even a dollar, would be greatly appreciated. Just click the donate button on the right hand side of this web page.