Animal Evacuation

In light of the evacuation that took place two days ago, I thought it was time to write up a quick guide to Animal Evacuation. This is based on information from Albany County (Wyoming) Emergency Management. This will cover horses and dogs because that is what I will be evacuating. I’ll include a link for other animals.

The ACEM prepared this information with the focus on bringing animals to a central location. However, it would work for you to transport animals to a private location.

Getting Ready

Take some time to get your animals ready to go.

Dogs

You need a bag or backpack with the following: 

• Feed for 7-10 days
• Medication and dosing instructions
• Collars and harnesses with their tags and leashes
• Pet carriers for smaller dogs and crates for larger dogs
• Familiar bedding, toys and treats
• Pet First Aid Kit – stock it for burns, heat stroke, and lacerations. List included below.
• Non-spill Food and Water – keep in mind if your dogs are at an evacuation center, they may not be checked regularly. ACEM said that they try to go by every 15 minutes, but…. These should be accessible without opening the kennel or crate.
• Vaccination Records
• Proof of Ownership – photos and papers are great. Microchipping is foolproof.
• Soft muzzle – in case your dog gets injured. Take the time to get your dog used to the muzzle before you need it. Basket muzzles work but according to the presenting vet, you can get bitten through a basket muzzle.

Horses

Store the following in your horse trailer or have it at hand.

•  Feed for 7-10 days
•  Medication and dosing instructions
• Non-nylon halter and lead rope (the nylon ones melt)
• Pet First Aid Kit – stock it for burns, heat stroke, and lacerations
• Feed buckets
• Wire cutters and sharp knife
• Leg wraps and any blankets
• Vaccination Records including your brand inspection and coggins
• Proof of Ownership – photos and papers are great but we’ve all played the “Whose bay is that game.” Microchipping is foolproof.
• Cattle crayon or spray paint – use to put your phone number on the horse. Do not leave the halter on if you have to turn your horse loose.

Keep your trailer in good condition and practice loading your horse regularly.

Other animals

Ask your vet to download the “Saving the Whole Family” pdf from the AVMA website. It contains guides for everything from fish to cattle to llamas to ducks.

Packing the First Aid Kit

As you prepare your first aid kit, pack the following:

•  Cone of shame
• Silver sulfadiazine (available at vet stores) for burns
• Thermometer
• Bandage tape and scissors
• Alcohol prep pads (if they are cool to touch, they are still good)
• Latex/nonlatex gloves
• Saline solution
• Towels and wash cloths
• Tweezers and needle-nosed pliers
• Vet wrap and cotton batting
• Species-specific medications – bute for horses, etc.

The Evacuation

If your area is under evacuation, it will be at one of three levels. Your levels may have different names. The level will be declared as appropriate and not work through the steps.

Level 1: Get Ready

There is a situation that may require evacuation. Be alert.

Level 2: Get Set (Pre-evacuation)

Pre-evacuations are ordered if you may be expected to leave within 24 to 48 hours. Get everything ready to go, hook up your trailer, and find out the location of the proposed evacuation center. In Albany County, the primary center is the Albany County Fairgrounds. The overflow is Hanson Arena.

Level 3: Go (Mandatory evacuation)

This is a mandatory evacuation and you should leave immediately. While you can not be forced to leave, you will not get any support if you choose to stay. Have a plan in place for the entire family.

Firefighters will open gates or cut fences to allow livestock to escape. Having your phone number on your animals will help them be returned to you.

You are not permitted to return to the mandatory evacuation area until the order is lifted. 

I will be adding information on trauma care as I verify it with the vet.

Rodeo Queen Wanna-be

Photo by Diana Burnette

There were only three candidates for the Laramie Jubilee Days Queen, Princess and Lady-in-Waiting competition, the organizer told me. That was no competition at all. Would I please consider putting my name in the mix, just so the competition wouldn’t be just about who was going to be queen?

Was I hallucinating? I had known the organizer for years. She knew very well that I had abandoned all pretense at western riding when I discovered the joys of jumping and the comfort of riding breeches. Me, a rodeo queen? But I had the main qualifications for the position – I was a girl, I was the right age and I owned a horse.

The horse was a big jumper, half Appaloosa and half Saddlebred, 16 hands of nerves and spots. I was quite certain that he had never seen a cow, let alone the flags, dust, and noise that were a rodeo. In fact, I was dubious about his ability to handle a rodeo. Even the starting box of a cross country course stretched his fragile psyche.

As for me, I had seen maybe five rodeos. The last one, at the ripe age of twelve, had been less than enjoyable when I had gone into hysterics during goat tying and had been escorted in disgrace from the audience. Goat tying was a pointless activity in torturing a terrified goat.

When I didn’t collapse in gales of laughter or turn her down flat, the organizer went on. The rodeo queen and her entourage would travel the west, attending rodeos, dressed in spangles and all I had to do was compete in four different categories: modeling, poise, public speaking, and riding. I had grave doubts about three of the four categories. No swim suits? I asked carefully and was reassured that we would have clothes on for all four events.

For a brief and wild moment, visions of me dressed in spangles and a big hat, poised and confident, attracting cowboys and more importantly, the stock contractors (sons) with my sheer rodeo queenly-ness overcame my good sense and self preservation. Why, yes, yes I would love to compete. I was now a rodeo queen wanna-be.

The modeling posed two major obstacles. The first was a complete lack of fashion sense. I did own cowboy boots so I paired them with a prairie skirt; a plaid, ruffled, marginally western shirt; a borrowed black cowboy hat and my English show jacket. The second was physical. I had grown long legs like a colt, but had yet to master them in a graceful manner. The modeling involved walking down an aisle, then taking off the jacket while turning, throwing the jacket over one shoulder and moseying back down the aisle. I practiced the turn and mosey for hours. During the event, the jacket sleeve caught on my gloves and refused to come off. I struggled like a netted fish to remove the jacket and staggered back down the aisle, dragging the coat.

The poise was an interview in front of a room full of people. For someone so shy as to be inarticulate in school, unable to meet people’s eyes and so soft spoken as to be silent, poise was a major obstacle. Voluntarily talking to an adult was torture. I felt like the goat in goat tying as the horse barreled down. All I needed was the cowgirl running toward me, tie in hand. I clearly recall that my hat hurt my head. My boots made my knees ache. And I had no idea what PRCA stood for. Cowgirl with tie, anyone? My rodeo queen dream slipped from queen to princess.

Oddly enough, the public speaking segment was the only one I was confident about. Give me a prepared and memorized speech and I was golden. Mine was a lovely combination of humor, self-deprecation, and horses, guaranteed to draw a laugh. The organizer had told me to tell about my most embarrassing moment, which up to that point, had involved a clumsy horse, a cute cowboy, and a spectacular fall that landed both of us on our backs at his feet. I went last. One by one, the other girls got up and gracefully described how honored they would be to represent Laramie Jubilee Days as queen and how much they looked forward to the opportunity. Unable to change a word of my prepared speech, I set my mental horse at the fence and clapped both heels into my story. It went off wonderfully with giggles from the audience in the right places. Unfortunately, like the cowboy in my tale, the judges were hardly impressed. I placed myself at Lady-in-Waiting.

The ride took place on a brilliantly cold day at Parker’s Palace, a long, narrow indoor arena. I did own a western saddle, several sizes too small and decorated in what was called Mexican at the time. It had been on sale, my mother’s favorite condition. My horse wore an English bridle and bit. Fortunately because neck reining was a mystery to him and I would be riding with one hand, he was trained to respond to my legs. Taller, thinner, and spottier than the other horses, we minced into the arena, him looking for jumps. Instead, he was asked to do sliding stops, roll backs and spins. Never in his life had he been asked for such a thing but he tried. It was not pretty. As we galloped madly around the arena, waving in best Rodeo Queen fashion, my hat blew off, tumbling end over brim to lay forlorn in the dirt. Good queens’ hats never fell off. My dreams of spangles and rodeos faded into nothingness. I was destined to remain a rodeo queen wanna-be.

The judges handed out lovely carnations to all of us and announced that they would make their decision momentarily. I shook hands with the future Queen and her entourage and went out into the cold afternoon where my horse ate the carnations.