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They come in all shapes and sizes...and that’s just the owners. All of whom share a common trait: They love and cherish their furry friends.
Pets in the roanoke valley are as unique as their owners. Here are some of the owners, their pets and their stories.
Mark Dearing and Pepper
The minute Mark Dearing laid eyes on 12-week-old Pepper, he was done for. Pepper was a jet black German shepherd from a breeder in Hardy—“probably worth $500-$600,” says Mark—who was presented to him for free by his friend Sophie Semones.
“When these well-bred dogs reach that age and they aren’t sold,” says the owner of Salem Imports, a VW repair shop, “they become victims of diminishing returns.”
So, “Sophie showed up and said, ‘I have a dog for you.’ I didn’t want a dog. I’d raised Belgian shepherds for years and when the fifth one finally died, I said, ‘I ain’t doin’ this no more.’ It’s just too tough to bury them.”
But Pepper grabbed Mark’s heart strings and she’s been the official greeter at his business for nearly two years now, a friendly dog who seems to be roundly appreciated by Mark’s customers.
Whitney Hankins and the menagerie
There’s a long pause when you ask Whitney Hankins how many pets she has. Her thumb runs across her fingers and her eyes look off in the distance. Her mother jumps in: “A dozen.” Then Whitney says, “Or maybe 13.”
You see them parked all over the small house in Mt. Pleasant, comfy in their neat cages: chinchillas, guinea pigs, hamsters, gerbils, a hedgehog, a glofish, a beagle and a husky. They are all tucked away, peeking around corners, avoiding the intruder.
Whitney is a 2012 Hollins biology grad who works at the Avian and Exotic Pet Clinic in Roanoke, a young woman who has been absorbed with critters since she was a child. She wanted to be a vet for the longest time and is now a kind of vet nurse. Most of her animals are inherited from people “who have no time for caring for them any more. They all seem to come to me that way.” She calls it “re-homing.”
The exotic phase of her collection began four years ago when she started her job at the pet clinic.
Lizetta Staplefoote and Hendrix
Owning a dog—especially a grown dog that weighed in at 120 pounds and ate like a teenager—was not on the immediate agenda for Lizetta Staplefoote and her sons. They had a cat, which none of them especially liked, but the dog just wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.
“I had this [German shepherd] for a long time and he was hit by a truck and killed in front of me,” says Staplefoote. “I was crushed and swore I’d never have another.” But Hendrix (yep, named after that Hendrix and yep, a German shepherd) showed up because his owner could no longer care for him. “We were supposed to take care of him for the weekend,” Staplefoote says. It didn’t work out that way.
Staplefoote got more than she bargained for or could even expect: companion, protector, entertainment, company during the day when she is working at home (for Rackspace as a “content provider”).
“I video conference with [Rackspace] people in Texas and they all want to know about Hendrix,” she says. She has taken up hiking again since the big dog has been her pardner, not fearing the perils of the trail. He also is better than a shotgun at home, should anyone want to break in.
And, of course, with her teen-aged boys Garvey (17) and Solomon (16) her grocery bill is monstrous. But, she insists, it’s worth every penny.
Robin Reed and Magnolia
Teresa Reed, the popular TV meterologist’s artist wife, sees it clearly: Magnolia “has Robin’s eyes.” Yep. This is a case of looking like your dog and Robin and Maggie were separated at birth.
Magnolia is an older (9), smaller (65 pounds) version of a breed—the Basset hound—that endears itself quickly to owners by tripping on its ears as a pup and generally being inadvertently comical through life. Robin and Teresa had owned a Basset for a number of years before “one day Murphy needed to go to heaven.” Word got out and a woman handed Robin a business card at a home show a bit thereafter. It led him to Corky Kennels in Christiansburg where Maggie lived. Robin and Teresa watched the Basset puppies tumble over a hill and were hooked again.”
Maggie has the distinction of “being the only Reed ever fired by WDBJ,” says Robin. Seems Maggie was used in a commercial for virginiasearchdog.com—a search engine developed by the station that had no success. “They had to let Maggie go.”
Mark Thomas and Danny
For an 11-year-old boy, the yuck factor is often much more desirable than it is for the rest of us. Hence, Mark Thomas and his Inland Bearded Dragon, Danny. Danny is a smallish dragon, one who fits easily on Mark’s shoulder and head.
“I got him for Christmas,” says Mark. “I wanted him for two years,” but Mark’s mom, Lisa, thought that he was a smidge too young for the responsibility. And the responsibility is not so much about walking around the neighborhood or school events grossing people out with a spiky lizard. It’s about taking care of an amphibian that requires a great deal of attention, especially in eating.
Danny eats a lot of live food and, Lisa says, “We have to feed his food [insects mostly], as well as him.” Says Mark, “He’s not like a dog or cat. You can leave some food and leave the house in the morning with them.” Not with Danny.
Danny was named for a character in one of Mark’s favorite book series: “Dragon Breath.”
What’s the attraction? “He’s a good companion.” And there’s the attention, of course. “People think he’s amazing.” Except for those who don’t.
Kelly List Kemper and Toulouse
Toulouse is an odd duck, an overweight, aging (11) cocker spaniel who is bi-lingual, opens doors with both his paws and his teeth and who occasionally delivers garlic.
Kelly explains: “In the middle of an ice storm one day, my neighbor called, asking to borrow garlic. We put the garlic in a baggie and put it on Toulouse’s collar. I opened the door and told him to go to Wendy’s house. She opened her door and called his name. He delivered the garlic, got a treat and ran home.”
Toulouse came from a breeder in Lynchburg and when the Kempers (husband Fourd, combined kids Lilly, Austin, Anna Todd, Gabe and Rowen) first saw him, he stood away from the herd of puppies who quickly covered the children. “It was like Toulouse was sitting in a tree watching,” says Kelly. She thought, “I want that one.”
She was teaching Spanish to children at the time and took her new dog to class. He learned basic commands in two languages. The class also helped make “him de-sensitized to chaos,” which is good when you’re in a house with five kids.
Anne Sampson and Twelve
Sometimes favored pets just show up. At least they do for Roanoke writer/photographer/dancer Anne Sampson. A good example is Twelve, whose name is a friend’s joke about neighborhood cats who’ve been fed at her house. He’s euphemistically called “American shorthair” and her mother “is a local stray who eats on my porch. She never comes near me. When she showed up with a kitten, he got fed too.
“The little buggers are easy to sneak up on when they’re eating, so I was able to tame him. He is the most genetically-predisposed-to-be-a-pet cat I have ever met. Adores being held, never passes up an opportunity for a belly rub, wants to be talked to, to be near me. He’s the kind of kitty who puts a paw on your cheek to say hello. Sassy and full of personality. A real pleasure to come home to.”
Cats have not always been a part of Anne’s life. In fact they didn’t enter until she was in college. She doesn’t so much “own” cats as she “herds” a few that are homeless and wandering. She feeds them and makes certain they get to the vet. Anne says that when she catches Twelve’s mom, “I’ll have her spayed.”
Before cats, she had a burro, chickens (“they make great pets”), amphibians, insects, a skunk, and a neighbor’s horses. “I had everything but cats and dogs.” Now, even the neighborhood strays have names: Kumquat, Cleo, Jorge, Baby Daddy, and Twelve’s mom, Little White Paws.
Suzun Hughes, Sugar and Safka
You see artists Suzun Hughes and John Wilson of Wilson Hughes Gallery walking the pair of American Eskimoes in downtown Roanoke at various points in the day. The dogs are Sugar and Safka, an Inuit name. Sugar has an Inuit name, too: Mirawa, but “Sugar” stuck because Mirawa is hard to say. The dogs are popular, friendly white balls of fluff that people who work and shop downtown love to fondle.
John takes the morning and evening shifts and Suzun gets the fun walk during the middle of the day when people often await the arrival of Safka and Sugar with treats. The dogs are spry, but old at 12 and 13, and they are sisters.
Suzun says that as the population of human dwellers has increased in the past few years, so have the number of dogs. “I can’t tell you about cats because they stay inside, but there are a lot more dogs,” she says. So many, in fact, that she’s had to put up a sign encouraging dog owners to clean up after their dogs. “It was a problem for a while,” she says. Not so much any more. “The sign helped, I think.”
John Carlin and Pippa
John and Mary Carlin have been furnishing a foster home for SPCA dogs for quite a while, but when Pippa, a mixed terrier, showed up, they couldn’t send her back. John, WSLS-TV10’s news anchor, calls Pippa his “foster failure.”
Mary is the finance director of the SPCA and the family has an aquarium business—Carlin Aquariums—that is responsible for, among other things, Center in the Square’s aquariums. Their son, Ben, is in the business with them.
Foster pets, says John, are given temporary homes because of behavior problems or because they may have diseases that have not been fully detected (worms, for example). The dogs go to foster homes for a couple of weeks, generally. The Carlins have two other dogs, so the fosters often fit in well. Pippa sure did.
“She was our first foster and we fell in love with her,” John says. Staff members at the SPCA often take the foster dogs home, but members of the public can become foster “parents,” says John. “It’s hard to give them back,” he says.
Jeanne Fishwick, Audrey, Lucy and Regis
At one point, the Fishwicks (Jeanne, her U.S. attorney husband John and the two boys) thought Lucy—Jeanne’s favorite—was going to die. She’d been diagnosed with lymphoma and “the vet at Tech said it was incurable. He said we should make her ‘as comfortable as you can for as long as you can.’ I was heartbroken.”
At about that time, on the way to the beach, the family stopped at “a weird little farm in Hillsville.” There they found Audrey, a tiny schnauzer/poodle puppy. It was instant attraction and the family thought maybe the pain of loss could be eased. But Lucy had other ideas. This was five years ago and Lucy’s still going. Jeanne smiles at the thought.
Lucy is a poodle, who is 13, and Regis is a 10-year-old Kerry Blue. They are all relatively small dogs and all were bought on the fly. Lucy was picked up near Smith Mountain Lake when the family saw a “Poodles for Sale” sign; Regis was bought in Greensboro when Jeanne decided she wanted a Kerry Blue to show. She didn’t show him because “I’m not sure he could walk around the ring.” Regis is not the sharpest pencil in the box. “If he were on ‘Gilligan’s Island,’ he’d be Gilligan,” she says. “He’s so dear, but he doesn’t figure much out.”
Lucy is “the cat, aloof; she doesn’t need attention.” Audrey is “the troublemaker, the bully. She’s really smart. She’ll start limping occasionally to get attention.”
The dogs have been a delight for the family and Jeanne says her young adult sons—who have always played with the dogs, but rarely cared for them—will probably always have dogs. “Maybe bigger dogs, though.” She and John have had dogs since two months into their marriage. And she would have it no other way.
Jody Hammock and Calamity Jane
Calamity Jane was abandoned in Franklin County, abused and deaf. She was on the doorstep of euthanasia when Jody Hammock stepped in and took her home, finding a sweet, lovable companion for herself, her blind dog, its sister BB, Tess the hound, and her talky parrot.
The blind dog is Bella Mae, who was rescued from a litter of seven tossed over a bridge into a river in Floyd County. Bella is “100 percent mutt: golden cocker hound.” Jody rescued them all and gave all but Bella and BB away. The parrot, Gandalf the Gray, came from a pet store in Vinton and tends to talk endlessly. “It’s like having a house full of children,” says Jody.
Calamity is “a typical pitty (pit bull mix): hard-headed, loyal and loving,” but she shies from strangers because of her deafness.
Jody, who works as an EMT for Lifecare, taught Calamity Jane sign language “in 15 minutes, using Ritz crackers.” She did not explain. She has “learned patience I never knew I had” because of working with the young dog. Calamity compensates for lost hearing with an intensified sense of smell: “She can be dead asleep, snoring and jump to her feet, moving toward the window with her nose in the air, asking me to look out the window and see a deer across the yard.”
Jody says Calamity Jane loves people, but takes a while to trust. “The pitty breed is so loyal so loving and so smart,” she says. “They are what you make them. You bring them into your home and show them love and kindness then you’ll have a good dog.”
Jody recalls the morning in Montana when she awoke “to a dog sounding like the Exorcist. I had left the window open and chocolate and peanut butter cookies on the table below it. A grizzly was standing, looking into my cabin. Calamity Jane smelled the Grizzly. At that moment I was more fearful of that dog than the bear. But I did get up and shut the window.”
Debbie Stevens, Tia and Zoey
For yoga instructor Debbie Stevens (she owns 108 Yoga Works), it’s all pretty simple. She’s in the relaxation business and “my cats entertain me. I never know what antics will appear before my eyes, like using those paws like hands or jumping up and doing flips in the air because they like a toy. I love my cats, especially after our snuggle time in bed in the morning.”
Stevens’ cats are eight-year-old tabbys Tia and Zoey. She picked them up at the League of Animal Protection in Fincastle, a no-kill shelter with a superb reputation for making captive pets comfortable before the cavalry comes. “It is open and healthy,” says Stevens. Tia grew up in the shelter and suffered no anxiety from it, says Stevens.
Rebecca Frederickson, Tong Hua, Twinky and Sha’al
Just one of Rebecca Frederickson’s cats—Tong Hua—is a truck cat and Tong is, by far, the youngest. The housemates, Twinky and Sha’al, are 15 and 11 and their adventures are in the past.
Frederickson is an independent trucker who often leaves the house before the sun comes up and doesn’t make it home until long after it has set. Tong rides along, sleeping, investigating the scenery, lap-sitting, meowing. She’s a noisy cat.
Tong “is company,” says Frederickson. “He’s always so happy to be with me.” And on a long truck ride, company is a luxury.