Prologue

Prologue

It always hurts to have a door slammed in my face, but like Wile E. Coyote, I usually
manage to somehow get peeled off the door's surface and move on.

Such was the case when I shared the concept for Fifteen Legs with a potential filmmaking
partner. "It's just not of sufficient social significance," he said unapologetically and all in one
breath. His response when translated from industry speak meant simply - "No thanks, no
one cares about that."

I believed otherwise but didn't beg to differ with him. I didn't even bother to ask him if he
could repeat his tongue twister of a reply three times fast.

This notion of volunteers connecting in cyberspace on behalf of desperate, unwanted
animals had stolen my heart. The thought of perfect strangers coming together and working
as a team to shuttle society's non-human cast-offs out of harm's way was too wonderful a
story to pass up. I had to tell it.

I had already signed myself up to serve as this project's producer, and there was no turning
back. Though he didn't know it yet, I had also enlisted Russ, my fiancé, to direct and edit
the show.

Everywhere I went I asked people if they were aware of this incredible cyber-based railroad
used to move homeless animals all over the map, sometimes only hours before their lives
were to be permanently snuffed out. Almost no one had heard of the volunteer animal
transport system, but almost everyone, upon learning about it, became excited and asked
how they personally could get involved.

It was a clammy day in August when I read Eve Haslam's article "Godspeed to All Those in
Transport" and within a few minutes, I had soaked the newsprint with tears. There was a
dog, a black Lab, who needed to get from her foster home in Georgia to her adoptive home
in Vermont. She was put on a "transport" and handed off to different volunteer drivers, fifteen
in all, until finally she arrived to where her new family was waiting - the dog's "forever home,"
as the animal-people called it.

"If only I had known about this animal rescue and transport thing," I thought as I laid the
newspaper aside. "I could have… I would have known how to… I would have been able to, to
somehow …"

I wanted to write about it, but I couldn't. For now, my emotions had me under arrest,
tormenting me with what might have been, if only I had known.

My decision to enter the world of animal rescue and transport through a camera's eye was
not the result of reading one article, or learning of one dog's plight. Something inside me
had already been brewing for just the right amount of time: when the last few ingredients
were tossed in, the mixture couldn't just simmer anymore; it bubbled up and boiled over
onto a page.

One of the last items to go into my pot of thoughts was in an issue of my daughter's
Weekly Reader. The cover grabbed my attention with the face of a chimpanzee and the
caption: "Do Animals Have Feelings?" Pondering how poorly we had fared as a species to
be posing this question at all, I looked inside. Scientists cited examples of animals
experiencing human feelings like love and grief. The writer then added something I didn't
expect to find at our date in history, in a publication used widely as a learning tool for kids.

"Other scientists doubt that chimps, rodents, and other mammals have humanlike feelings.
They argue that people tend to see human qualities in animals. That's why whales seem to
show signs of being in love, or dogs seem to be sad, they say. … Many scientists also
argue that no scientific way to determine whether animals have emotions exists yet." 1

Soon afterward, I attended a lecture by Jane Goodall and as she looked out over the crowd
and bellowed hope in her rendition of a chimp's howl, I caught her reverberations and added
them to my soup.

As I was gearing up for what would be the ride of my life Sam Patton, the best camera
operator I know, came forward and offered his support. The crew now numbered three, and
little did I know how quickly that number would escalate, and how people would give of
themselves so generously for the animals needing their help.

So off we went, packed with our broadcast equipment and wide-open minds. Also in the bag
were great expectations, a notebook filled with questions, and some hearts that we wore on
our sleeves.

Tucked into one of my pockets was a tiny jar of skepticism containing a note from an
experienced animal rescuer. Her admonition, "Ninety percent of people who rescue animals
belong to a subculture who hate people," was delivered self-assuredly, in a "You'll see..."
kind of way. Still, I was exhilarated. We had committed to a fascinating project, and we
were on our way.

This is the story of animals who have run out of time. It's about the people who save them at
the eleventh hour. It's the story of where they go next, and how they get there…

_____________________________

1 "Do Animals Have Feelings?" Weekly Reader, Senior Edition, January 5, 2001.