Michael Evans goes immediately for his 11-month-old pit bull, Bear, his beloved companion who lives beneath the thundering commuter trains of the San Francisco Bay Area.
“Attentive! Sitting! That’s my boy!” Evans instructs the energetic pup as he eagerly accepts Stewart’s offer.
A quick check on the dog reveals a mild ear infection that could have worsened in a matter of weeks to the point that Bear may have required sedation. Instead, right there, Dr. Stewart applies a drop of triple antibiotic/antifungal/steroid therapy that should start the healing process.
“He is my son, my son. He is my right hand ”, an emotional Evans reacts when talking about Bear, with whom he shares the small mobile home in Oakland. “It’s a blessing, really.”
“The Street Vet,” as Stewart is known, has supported the population without home of California and her pets for nearly a decade after she spontaneously helped a man with a flea-infested dog outside a convenience store. Since then, Stewart has walked regularly through the heart of Los Angeles’ infamous Skid Row — one of the most homeless areas in the country — where he notes the crisis of homeless of the state and also how much these people appreciate and depend on their pets.
After tending to Bear, Stewart gives Evans—who moved here from Louisiana—a list of the medications he provided, along with contact information in case the dog needs further treatment. Stewart always promises to cover all expenses.
“That was a good catch,” Stewart says in baseball parlance, before heading to the next stop, in West Oakland.
California is home to nearly a third of the nation’s homeless population, according to federal data. About two-thirds of California’s homeless do not have shelter, which means they live in the open, often crammed into encampments in major cities and along highways. Nationwide, up to 10% of homeless people have pets, according to estimates by the advocacy group Pets of the Homeless. Stewart believes that number is higher.
Homeless shelters often do not allow pets, forcing people to make heartbreaking decisions. Stewart sees it as his mission to help as many of them as he can.
Stewart, 52, a former University of New Mexico hurdler who now lives in San Diego, has been a lifelong animal lover. He grew up in Texas and New Mexico trying to save stray dogs, or at least feed and care for them. He founded Project Street Vet, a non-profit charity dedicated to helping pets of the homeless. Before getting sponsors and donors, Stewart financed the group himself for years with a portion of his salary.
There’s also a lot of angst in Stewart’s work. He once performed emergency surgery on a pregnant Chihuahua and the two pups did not survive. But more often than not, these pet owners are more than grateful for Stewart’s kindness. He estimates that perhaps only one time in 25 times someone refuses his help.
Outside of tents, makeshift structures or trailers, Stewart calls out, “Hello!” He can usually guess that there is a pet if he sees a dog bowl or a pet toy. By the way, he wears navy blue scrubs with his name on them, so no one will mistake him for animal control or other authorities and make him feel threatened.
“People are reticent, they don’t always know why I approach them. If they approach you to beg or beg, it’s different, but if you go to them they don’t know if you are an agent of the law or if you have a hidden intention,” he explains, “so I take it very calmly and announce myself from far”.
Approaching Misty Fancher to see if her pit bull Addie—purchased at a nearby gas station for $200—might need shots, Stewart asks, “Can I give her treats so we can become friends?”
“Sometimes I stop and just talk” to them, Stewart adds.
Addie is Fancher’s first pet as an adult and gives the 42-year-old some reassurance that she is safe living in a relatively unstable Oakland neighborhood.
“She’s a really good girl,” Fancher says of Addie. “She keeps a lot of trouble away. She protects me. She will bite someone if she acts aggressive or does something against me. She has done it. But she just talks them off before they even try.”
Stewart notices a puncture on the dog’s paw that needs to be monitored and also gives her a rabies shot. He writes a certificate for Fancher to keep as proof that his dog is vaccinated. He leaves her with deworming pills, flea and tick treatments, and, as always, her contact information.
A bit later, Stewart stops outside a nearby park. He walks around the perimeter and comes across the trailer home owned by Eric Clark, who has lived in the same downtown spot for seven years. He has a male bulldog and a pregnant Pitbull and Doberman. “It’s hard going to the vet,” Clark tells her. “I apreciate it. They are my family.”
Stewart is happy to be able to make a small difference like this in a largely misunderstood community. He strives to treat every person on the streets with the same professionalism and care that he would treat a patient at his vet clinic. His mantra: don’t judge, just help.
“They live in the shadows. They live among us, but not with us,” she expresses. “It is really gratifying. It affects you a little. When they cry because of the difficult times they’ve been through, you try to support them, to help them.”
FUENTE: With information from AP
