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Animal Protection Society
Volunteers give time, love for homeless pets
By BETH PARSONS
Stray dogs are plentiful in Chapel Hill, especially on
the UNC campus. Many make nice playmates and
dorm mascots.
But what happens to the little mut you've been
feeding all semester when it doesn't show up one day
or you pack up and go home?
I Chances are. that doe will show ud aeain later
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starvingdehydrated, hurt or maybe dead.
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I j Orange County Pound and, if not claimed by their
I i owners -within a few days, were killed by carbon
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monoxide poisoning.
Today, stray dogs and cats in Orange County are
treated more humanely through actions by the Animal
Protection Society, a community volunteer
organization concerned with the care and adoption of
I homeless animals.
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Since 1962, when it first began as the Orangey
County Humane Society, 1 APS has worked with
Orange County and Chapel Hill to provide better
facilities for stray animals.
A recent achievement of APS is acquiring the new
Orange County Animal Shelter on Airport Road. The
shelter was built oh county property and financed
jointly by the town and the county. APS, however,
persuaded town officials to build the shelter.
"APS was finally able to persuade the town and
county to build the building on county-owned
property" said Pat Kennedy, past APS president. "It
came to the point that we had to accept what the town
and county would give us," she said.
With several successful auction and fund drives,
APS raised $10,000, earmarked as the shelter fund,
which was spent to equip the new shelter.
In the last 10 weeks, APS has moved its equipment,
into the new shelter and assumed operation as agreed
in a fiveyear renewable contract with Orange County.
"The city is trying to get the county to assume
complete financial responsibility for the shelter,"
Kennedy said. "APS thinks it should be a joint
responsibility. We may appeal to the town for funds,
at least the amount they got at the old dog pound."
The shelter is more sanitary and better-staffed than
the Chapel Hill Pound, which closed permanently
May 7. "It's a wonderful thing and a very gratifying
experience to work here," said Frances Stagg,
assistant manager of the shelter.
The new shelter is already overflowing with stray
and unwanted animals. One sound-proofroom houses
20 to 30 cats and kittens. Across the hall, rows of
cement and wire compounds erupt with barking
whenever an attendant passes.
Identification tags on the doors of the dog
compounds say "stray" or, "surrender." "Surrenders
are dogs (and cats) that have been given to us by their
owners for one reason or another," Stagg said.
A pure-bred black Afghan lay in one cage marked
"surrender." "Isn't that something?" Stagg said. "The
owner didn't want it anymore."
In its first month of operation the shelter handled
268 animals. Only 20 animals were reclaimed by their
owners and 40 were adopted. Of the remainder, 127
animals had to be put to sleep with an anesthesia called
sodium pentobarbital.
Animals with proper identification are held at the
shelter for at least three days, pending claim by their
owners. Those without identification are held as long
as possible but the holding period is decided upon by
APS managers.
After the holding period and a physical
examination, animals are put up for adoption. Those
deemed unadoptable because of critical injury, ill
temper or age are put to sleep by a veterinarian.
Animals in poor physical condition may be put to
sleep sooner than healthy animals.
Sodium pentobarbitol is the only drug APS allows
local veterinarians to use. It causes no pain and,
therefore, no unnecessary anxiety, v
Necessary killing because of overcrowding is
difficult for any shelter, Stagg said. "Its never a case of
becoming hardened to it, it's just a case of reality.
They're better off here or dead than out somewhere
uncared for.
"People seem to haVe this idea that nature will take
care of animals. Well, that's just plain wrong. Nature is
the crudest environment an animal can be subjected
to," Stagg said.
APS adoption fees for dogs and cats are $5 and
anyone can adopt an animal from the shelter. But
those who do are warned of the responsibility of pet
care. "We won't talk you out of adopting, but we won't
talk you into it either. Few people have any idea of the
responsibility necessary to care for a pet," Stagg said.
Besides getting instructions for the animal's care,
each new pet owner agrees to have the animal spayed
or neutered. The shelter ensures this procedure by
charging new owners a deposit $15 for dogs and $10
for cats that is refunded when they take the animal to
a veterinarian.
"We don't have the facilities to spay and neuter
animals here," Stagg said, "So we charge the deposit as
sort of an assurance to us that the owner will have it
done " Many of the older animals are already spayed
or neutered.
Spaying and neutering pets is a necessity, according
to Jan Reist, an APS member and major fund raiser.
"Only one of every eight animals finds a home," she
said. "Those other seven don't. We've all got to stop
pulling an ostrich act about it and realize what's going
on in the county."
Many people concerned with protecting 'stray
animals are members of APS. Its membership since
1971, when it became the Animal Protection Society,
has grown to approximately 500.
"Saying we have 500 members doesn't give an exact
picture," Reist said. "There's a small core of people
who do an incredible amount of work."
Members pay annual dues of $5 per person or $8 per
couple. Lifetime memberships are $100.
Dedicated members like Reist and Kennedy help
organize, fund-raising projects for the organization.
The annual APS Auction, held each October at Carr
Mill Mall is the organization's primary fund raiser.
The auction made $12,000 for APS in 1978.
The auction and membership fees helped make the
Orange County Animal Shelter a reality. The shelter
with 32 dog compounds should represent a victory for .
APS, but according to some members, it was too small
before it was built. "We felt it would be too small for
the volume of animals we handle," Kennedy said. "We
thought we'd need 20 to 30 more dog runs at least.
"We're now looking into the cost of adding more
runs at our own expense. Even with more runs, there
will still have to be a great deal of killing."
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Storybook Farm
Warren Barrett shares his home
and hopes for children's futures
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Manager Marjorie McGlothin
. cares for one of the strays .
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African student at UNC
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Kenyan reflects on experiences here, at home
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and enjoys American lifestyle
By MICHAEL SHARSKY
Safari Mathenge has a T-shirt that says
"Where the hell is the African guy?" on the
front and "Who cares? on the back. .
The sophomore journalism major from
Mombasa, Kenya, wrote those lines with a
black magic marker, and they're a symbol of
his good-natured appraisal of his situation
on this campus.
Safari decided to study in the United
States after he was exposed to Peace Corps
volunteers in Mombasa, who had reams of
praise for Carolina, their alma mater.
Unfortunately, red-tape problems
prevented his entry into UNC, so he enrolled
at Louisburg College in North Carolina,
where he worked on the student newspaper.
Five months after entering the United
States, Safari became a summer-session
student at UNC.
A country about the size of Texas, Kenya
is located in the eastern region of Africa that
borders'1 the Indian Ocean. Mombasa is
Keriyas 'major seaport and the second
largest city in the country.
Kenya's major language is Swahili, and
Safari occasionally reels off a burst, of the
fluid and emotional language, especially
when he is excited.
Kenya is, in fact, a very diverse land.
There are 40 separate tribes; Safari belongs
to the Meru. The concept of the tribe is
misleading to some Americans. "Africa is
not Ml Tarzan land," Safari said when asked
what he'd like people to know the most
about his home.
Safari has found that many Americans
really think of Kenya as just a savage jungle
land, but he'd never seen African wildlife
until a recent trip as a tourist into the
Kenyan interior.
The diversity of Kenya has led to some
problems. Mombasa has a large Indian
' population, and Safari attended a private
high school where he was the only African
student among Indians. He said he had to be
wary of phony advances from students who
tried too hard to be nice or didn't try at
all.
Such problems are, however,
overshadowed by the special Kenyan spirit
of friendship. This is something very basic to
Kenyan life, and parents impress their
children with the importance of maintaining
many close friendships.
Safari indicated a Kenyan friendship is
much more trusting and sharing than the
average American counterpart. Property is
readily shared, and much emotional support
is understood as sacred to the system of,
friendship, forming a backbone of
community structure.
Courtship is a good example of tribal
custom in Kenya. "It depends on how much
you follow tradition. Each tribe has different
customs," Safari said. Such customs are
centuries old, but the Mgrass hut" image
obscures the' fact that customs are practiced
in modified form in more modern settings,
including the bustling metropolitan areas.
Commenting on love and marriage, Safari
said "I don't see anything wrong with a
traditional marriage." When asked what
would happen if he became attached here,
though, he said "You can't quite say what
would happen if you fall in love," and
grinned.
A Kenyan is not raised to "do it alone"
and the American ideal of self-reliance put
Safari to the test.
When he arrived, he was virtually alone.
He knew a few friends in New York from
contacts in Mombasa, but they were hard to
find. Safari was scared. "All my friends were
gone; I couldn't find anyone to help me," he
said. He learned to get along with infrequent
encounters with helpful strangers, and
eventually located the people he knew. They
told him he'd experience prejudice in the
South.
Has he?
For the most part, no. "Most people are
friendly once they know you're foreign , . .
and you reach out," Safari explained.
He insists that racism is not a problem,
although he agrees life on a college campus is
more tolerant.
Mi was kind of shocked at first," he said,
because in Africa many people have a
picture of America as all New York or all
"western," depending on TV programming.
This problem of sterotyping extends to a
personal level. He spoke of being just "the
African guy" with feeling, because that
image has led to depression and loneliness.
Few came to him, as is common in Kenya.
Safari had to reach out and break the shell of
being a campus curiosity.
His experience in the all-Indian school
helped him form tolerance, adaptability
and the guts to establish himself in a strange
and lonely situation.
Some do not fare as well. A student Safari
knew at Louisburg from Ghana could not
overcome the barrier of loneliness that being
different erects in the country. He spent
most of his time alone in his room, could not
communicate effectively and eventually
suffered a nervous breakdown.
Safari warns against the danger of
withdrawal for foreign visitors; not all lands
are as supportive as Kenya. Safari appeared
to be a quick-witted guy who worries about a
lot of the same things most American
students do and who also shoots a mean
game of pool.
Sports? "Soccer is the big thing," he said,
and Americans are picking up on that. He
also likes to run, reads a lot and loves to
.disco.
In spite of what many people think, Safari
is, after all, a human being no different from
other students. He isn't the African guy who
is also a decent chap. He isn't a walking
tourist information, center, a dashiki that
speaks or an example of what civilization
can do for the "poor African natives."
He is an articulate, highly motivated man
with a restless intellect, needing to know and
to write and he happens to be African.
Most college students worry about
loneliness and pressure what of those who
take a bolder step, seeking thei, fortunes,
farther from their roots? Safari thinks
students need to be more sensitive tojhe;,
needs of others; his experiences make that
need clearer,
The essence of Safari's message as a
foreign student reflects his character
admirably. He's warm and easy to be open
with, and the reason is clear.
"Growing up learning to give," he said. By
giving us an honest look at himself, he's
given us a better look at ourselves.
j By KIMSERLY McGUIRE
It's hard to imagine a man as good as
v Warren Barrett and a place as picture
perfect as his Storybook Farm.
Out Jones Ferry Road, you'll see a sign
and the stone house, complete with vegetable
garden, pond, greenhouse, woodshop and a
spring-fed swimming pool. It is all framed by
40 acres of mowed, green fields and a hill.
Meet owner and head of the operation.
Warren Barrett, 64, and he will win your
heart as he tells the tale of how Storybook
Farm came to be.
"I was reading a book to the kids when
they were small and we lived on McCauley
Street," Barrett said in his grandfatherly
manner. "In the center there was this picture
of a farm that had everything a horse and
cows, you name it. We called it our
storybook farm.
"We had no idea then. But, when we found
this place in 1955 and decided to move out of
town with the six kids, there was nothing else
to call it"
Since then, it has been home to the Barrett
family and much more to those who have
visited there.
Storybook Farm was used for a time as a
site for a drug-rehabilitation program for
teen-agers and as a home away from the
hospital for children needing speech therapy.
Since 1961, the family has been operating
a preschool and a kindergarten in the winter
months and a day-camp and picnic ground
in the summer.
"Some' people are motivated by fame or
money and material things, but that doesn't
mean a thing to me," he said. "Here we can
expose a child or a young person to nature
and discreetly try to teach them this is all one
thing. Really, weVe all in this together and
we must learn to cooperate."
Cooperation and family are very
important elements in making the programs
at Storybook Farm work. Mrs. Barrett runs
. the school for nine months during the year.
Her mother and one of the Barrett children'
live on the property and help with the
gardening and other chores. '
Other aspects of the "farm" include a craft
and woodworking shop, which is now run by
a furniture maker from Chapel Hill. "We've
also added a greenhouse, and a landscaping
service," Barrett said.
- But Barrett is quick to add, "Mostly.we're
still involved with kids."
"Underlying the physical set-up are the
kids and our idea for a kind of spiritual
development," Barrett said.
"1 happen to be a missionary's son," he
continued, "but my beliefs are more practical
than most organized religions. It's not
dogmatic. I say ifyou're looking for an
answer, go to nature and see the fantastic
simplicity and beauty of it all."
"All I can begin to do personally is to be an
example and start here with something
simple to share," Barrett said.
"Nineteen years ago, we opened camp
charging $18 a week. Now we charge $52 a
week and that's still cheap compared to most
places," Barrett noted. "Our purpose is to
reach as many children as possible, and that
includes the little guy who ' can't usually
afford to go to camp."
Day-camp begins Monday and Barrett
expects about 60 elementary-school aged
children this season. He hires 15 to 18
counselors each summer.
"I give them a lot of responsibility for
planning activities and buying supplies.
These young people don't come here to make
money as much as to learn about- the kids
and about themselves," Barrett said.
Storybook Farm started as a non-profit
venture, and it has stayed that way. "The way
it all came about was kind of a coincidence,"
Barrett recalls. "When we first moved put
here, our friends with children brought them
out for weekends. We had boating and
canoes on the pond, and horses.
"At the end of that summer, the parents
wanted to pay us for our trouble. We didn't
want that, so instead, a camp grew out of it
the next summer and then the school that
fall."
"1 had always had the hankering to do it,"
said Barrett, who was a camp counselor
himself in the summer of 1938 in Tuxedo,
N.C. "But 1 was afraid to give up my working
life, in stocks and bonds, to take the chance."
"1 remember when I decided," he said, his
light green eyes flashing. "1 was on my way
back from Minneapolis on business, laid
over in the Chicago airport. I called up my
sister and told her I was giving it up and
starting a camp and that was that."
And he claims he hasn't worked a day
since.
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