For nearly ten years, my life revolved around my two cats, Marmalade and Luna. Then they were both gone. I decided to make animals my job. Like a good, little academic achiever, I considered a graduate program, pursuing the Animals and Public Policy master’s degree at Tufts. When I perused the list of graduates’ achievements, I saw the kinds of jobs that I knew would never pay enough to allow me to cover the student loans I’d have to take out (on top of the ones I was already paying.)

It is only in hindsight that I realized my good fortune in stumbling onto a path of “Profitable Adventures,” an education in Animals in Society beyond what I could have planned and richer, I believe, than a year of classroom learning could have supplied. My accidental curriculum:

• working on technology, PR, and communications for a big-city SPCA
• developing business for a pet acupuncture clinic
• editing for one national leader in the humane movement and interviewing another
• writing original articles and blog posts
• caring for dozens of dogs as cats as a shelter volunteer
• making friends and allies promoting the No Kill, rescue, pet hospice, pet loss awareness
• having my journey profiled in a national magazine
• having my dog featured on the Website of a major newspaper

Where I would have been after a one-year master’s program: $50K in additional debt. Gross revenues from this alternative course of learning: over $120,000.

My goal for the next phase – figuring out how to create profitable adventures that become passive income sources as well, gifts that keep on giving.

Are animal-related charities on your donation list this year?

After Katrina struck, I gave money to two nonprofit organizations – one a large, national one that was a part of the matched giving program at my job; the other a grassroots one. I later learned that both were under investigation for misuse of the funds.

I felt really burned.

Meanwhile, the local organization where I volunteered was making better use of resources — flying animals in and readying them for adoptions or reunifications. I had the opportunity to meet a litter of Catahoula puppies; a 14-year-old Corgi, already dying from a terminal illness, pulled from the flood waters to live out her last weeks in a home in San Francisco; and numerous dogs treated for heartworm. Another local organization and many individuals went to volunteer on the scene.

This experience has left me guarded against the typical marketing approaches of animal charities – the appeal to outrage bolstered by stories and photos of cruelty and neglect, the appeal to pity supported by shots of elderly or otherwise evidently needy animals, and the awwwww….approach — luscious puppies and kittens.

So – my tips. Before writing the check, think about what you want to contribute to, and whether the organization making the appeal can be trusted to use your money for that purpose:

1 – Geographic scope: Do you want to help the animals in your own community, or does helping animals in need around the country (or the globe) appeal to you?
2 – Kinds of animals: wildlife, dogs and cats, a specific breed, all companion animals, “food animals”?
3 – Precisely which problem is the organization attempting to solve: helping people take care of their own companion animals, effecting legislation, saving homeless animals, educating people, prosecuting cruelty cases, conducting research on diseases that affect animals, training service or therapy animals that will help people?
4 – Managerial effectiveness: It can be hard to get good information, and even harder to evaluate it. As best you can, try to get a sense of whether the organization is competent, innovative, and financially intelligent.
5 – Philosophy – The language can get confusing and contentious – “No-Kill”, “adoptable”, and so on. Judge for yourself – What does the organization actually do with its difficult cases? What are its relationships with the larger community, the press, the clients, the animals, the local government?

I spent some quality time with my neighbor Jenna today. She’s a rescued pit bull, a Canine Good Citizen, and a cancer survivor. Jenna’s spent her life riding rough on the Wheel of Fortune. Scooped from a shelter where she was cowering at the back of a cage, Princess Jenna is the kind of dog that is regarded as dispensable in the conventional model tragically still in force at many shelters around the country.

Her owner is in a summer course, so neighbors, friends, and fans of Jenna are pitching in to give her three daily walks, food and water, and the medications she takes to keep her tumor at bay and to control the eye infections she gets occasionally. Despite her difficult history, Jenna now has the life she deserves — a life worth living.

Since so many people have remarked about the kitty in my profile picture, here’s the story:

I took a writing workshop held at Isis Oasis in Geyserville, CA. A uniquely Northern California sort of place, Isis Oasis is a temple to Isis and was called a cat and bird sanctuary. I’m sure “sanctuary” is not the correct term. The operator kept and bred small cats – ocelots, servals, bobcats, jungle cats – in an attempt to save them from extinction by domesticating them over generations. She refers to this as “playing Goddess.”

(Yes, I recognize that this enterprise is ethically problematic. I got the creeps from the practice of surrounding cat enclosures with bird enclosures as a form of “enrichment.” Both species seemed stressed to me. Isis Oasis’ Animal Welfare license was revoked in 2008 for violations that included the sale of endangered species.)

While at the writing retreat, I saw a flyer advertising an upcoming course in exotic cat husbandry. Of course, I signed up. Curiosity enlivens the human. The course covered a lot of details I’ve since forgotten about how to build enclosures for small and great cats, what to feed, what vaccination protocols to use, and so on. I do remember that the instructor said it was irresponsible to keep a lion or tiger in a suburban area if you are unwilling to learn how to shoot! We also had the opportunity to do some clicker training with tame ocelots.

The cat in the photo is a hybrid of serval (that’s where the ears come from) and jungle cat. She was about 12 weeks old at the time, and about 12 pounds – the size of a large-ish domestic cat. She liked to be held and suckled on my neck hard enough to leave hickeys. I have seen her once since she’s grown up, and she can no longer be picked up.