A high pressure system settled over the Pacific Northwest last Friday. Scorching temperatures continue to bake the region and are expected to continue into next week.
Upon hearing the forecast, my wife, Susan’s, first thoughts turned toward homeless people and their animals. Human suffering is abhorrent to both of us. Distressed, Susan confided in her dad, affectionately known as “Popski.”
Popski has led a noble life of service. President of two temples, he was also a catalyst in creating the Marin Organizing Committee (MOC). MOC has a long history of staunchly advocating for underserved populations in Marin County, California, a seat of affluence and privilege. Now in his mid 80s, Popski is no less passionate about doing good for marginalized communities — and inspiring others to do the same.
His message was simple: “Get involved.”
We answered the call.
Susan picked up two cases of water from the store. I hauled the water from the car while Susan cleared room in the freezer. We could fit twelve bottles at a time. Some we infused with an electrolyte flavor enhancer. Others we left plain. If a street person had a companion animal, the additive might’ve harmed them. We loaded fresh bottles into the freezer before distributing the frozen ones. Protein bars and packs of chilled towelettes accompanied the waters we gave out.
Susan and I learned more about homeless demographics before we laid boots on the ground. According to Feeding Pets of the Homeless, 5-10 percent of homeless people have dogs and/or cats. In some areas of the country, the number is as high as 24 percent. Food insecurity for these animals is as dire as it is for their humans. Often, people who are homeless sacrifice their own food so that their pets may eat.
People who are homeless hail from various backgrounds. Some are people who’ve lost their jobs and homes. Others are addicts, parolees, veterans, the disabled or abused spouses. They come in all ages. Some have life partners, some fend for themselves. In many cases, companion animals provide a sense of comfort and stability in an uncertain, often hostile, world. Providing for their pets bolsters their sense of belonging and purpose.
Because we acted alone, not part of a charitable group, Susan and I targeted individuals rather than encampments. We avoided people exhibiting overt signs of mental illness.
To help with ice breakers, we consulted the excellent article in Voices, How to Talk to a Homeless Person. A smile or simple eye contact was a good opener. If the person was lying down or sitting, kneeling to speak with them put us “on par” with them. We were respectful and non-judgmental. We didn’t assume what their needs were; we asked directly and were prepared to offer some support. We respected boundaries; theirs and ours. If they refused help, we understood.
The benefits of speaking with people who are homeless cut both ways. It humanized them and can gave us profiles into resilience and courage.
Popski was right. Engaging with people who are homeless and their pets took infinitely less effort than pretending we couldn’t see them.
Click below for select volunteer resources helping the homeless and their animals: