Caring For Pets When Illness Strikes Group Makes Sure Animals Get What They Need When Owners Aren’T Up To The Job

In a high, hot apartment in downtown Philadelphia, Mikal Geddes spends most days with the television on and Tulip next to him in his hospital bed. She is part beagle, part basset hound, and the mistress and companion of his life.

“I treat her like a queen and take good care of her,” he said. “I think she is well aware of the role she plays.”

Geddes’ bedroom windows are lined with plants, a green, humidlooking profusion that trembles in a damp, steady gust from the box-fan on the floor. His windows look out at a skyline of skyscrapers, adding the dimension of space to his life, which, since 1984, has become more and more circumscribed, limited by weakness, shortness of breath, occasional serious illnesses that have included PCP pneumonia, pancreatitis and what he said his doctors call “wasting syndrome.” He is 35. He has AIDS. “If it hadn’t been for this dog, I would have committed suicide long ago,” he tells people. He has had Tulip since she was 5 weeks old and could fit into his hand. Now she’s 5 years old, and she also has her ailments.

Geddes is too weak to take her to a veterinarian. But he belongs to an organization called PhillyPAWS, which helps care for the pets of men and women afflicted with AIDS. And so, whenever Tulip gets sick, PhillyPAWS sends one of its vets to examine her.

There is a well-known saying: “God is in the details.” So is compassion. PhillyPAWS devotes itself to one small kindness - overseeing the well-being of the animals that belong to increasingly ill men and women; it focuses on that single, significant detail, consistently and unheroically. As the organization’s clients become sicker, weaker and are unable to manage visits to a vet, walks for their dogs or litter changes for their cats, when even lifting a bag of dog food becomes a hurdle, PhillyPAWS takes over. With everything else that can go wrong for AIDS patients is going wrong, they can be reassured that there is one thing they will not have to worry about. “There have been several occasions when I couldn’t go on. I got so depressed because of what was going on, because of the AIDS,” Geddes said. “I thought I was going to commit suicide. There have been some close calls. But … I realize Tulip needs me, just as much as I need life.

“I love life,” he said. “I get a kick out of it. Sometimes I think AIDS can take the love of life away. Tulip is there to make sure that love doesn’t get distorted.”

Twelve stories below, in south Philadelphia, the sun bakes the pavement. The line of traffic shimmers at a stoplight, and people cross the street as slowly and deliberately as swimmers. But Marie Conti has taken an hour from work to pick up a dog for his walk.

Conti trots up the steps into a townhouse, looking crisp in a sheath of temperature-defying black and black spiked heels. She trots out again, in running shoes, holding the reins over Francis, a black Scottish terrier with a haircut that bells over his toes.

Francis is deliriously pleased to be out. Every post and marigold patch is inspected, every schoolchild greeted, every dog investigated. “Unless you’re an animal lover, you probably think it’s goofy,” Conti said, cajoling the busy Francis to a shady stretch on the other side of the street.

Conti is a member of PhillyPAWS. Normally she coordinates the schedules of other volunteers, but she also fills in where she’s needed. Today she is walking Francis for a young man who is sick with AIDS until a regular volunteer can be found.

Last year, she was an AIDS buddy for Action AIDS. Conti became very attached to her buddy. Sometimes, she slept the night away on the floor next to his bed so he would not feel alone. When he died, she grieved for him. She has not been ready to wade again through the sorrow of another such connection.

So Conti became an early member of PhillyPAWS. The semi-acronym stands for the unwieldy title “Philadelphia Pets are Wonderful Support Inc.” The organization is modeled after similar groups in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Washington, D.C, and Chicago.

Since PhillyPAWs started in June of last year, 102 people have been trained as volunteers, according to David Hellmann, its president. It operates out of donated space and runs on a shoestring. The budget from June 1993 through last December was about $14,000 and came from individual donations of less than $100 apiece, Hellmann said during a recent phone conversation.

“Right now we have 47 registered clients. Since June (1993) we have served 59,” he said. “Two are inactive because they don’t have pets anymore. And the others have died.”