Dinosaur Conservation & Rescue League

Fatima

A beam of hot sunlight spilled through the screen of the open window and across a desk occupied by a mug full of pens and pencils, a calculator, several bundles of paperwork, and a laptop computer.

On the wall across from the window, large maps were spread out. Small, vibrant neon-colored sticky notes, each with a name, a male or female symbol, and a number, were arranged within the irregular grid on the map.

On the wall behind the desk, a barely-visible bulletin board was obscured by a crazy quilt of papers in a multitude of shapes and sizes. Despite the multicolored army of thumbtacks holding them in place, the papers occasionally fluttered.

Beside the bulletin board was a wall calendar, most of the day spaces on it scribbled with pen, pencil, neon highlighter marker, or a combination of the three.

On the wall across from the bulletin board and calendars, above the door, was a picture of Jesus Christ. His right hand held aside his green mantle, while his left hand pointed to his Sacred Heart. The eyes of the painted figure seemed to gaze down on the desk, and on its occupant, Fatima Villa.

The petite hispanic woman's dark eyes darted between her laptop screen, her calculator, and the bills. She wondered again what she was going to do to make ends meet this month. It cost an eye to keep this place running, pretty much every day. The fact that most of their rescues were carnivores didn't help. They attracted tourists, but acquiring food for them was harder than for herbivores.

Dinosaur Conservation & Rescue League's Cypress Sanctuary, located in Northern Louisiana, was supposed to be self-sufficient, generating enough income from walk-through tours, special events, and presentations to pay for enclosure upkeep, feeding, and vet services. There were very few paid employees here; most workers were volunteers. But no matter how much work the volunteers did, it didn't pay for the things needed to get the work done.

As the founder and director of Dinosaur Conservation & Rescue League, it was complete;y within Fatima's authority to shut the whole place down if she so wished. But she wouldn't. Nearly all of the sanctuary's residents were here because they were disfigured, sickly, unstable, aggressive, or a jumble of those things. If DCRL hadn't taken them in, every dinosaur in the place would likely have already been euthanized.

Euthanized! Fatima snorted. What a word. Why didn't people just say killed? Though of course she knew why.

Killed was a graphic word, probably bringing up ideas of pain and blood and horror.

Euthanized was distant, cold, sanitized. It happened behind a closed door, so people could pretend it was something other than what it truly was: the death of an animal for the convenience of a human.

Few conventional zoos would take her charges, difficult and 'ugly' as they were. On top of that, she didn't want them in a conventional zoo. There, all that had been learned and applied to the individual animal's needs might be tossed aside.

Fatima shook the thought away. There was work to be done. Xavier was away at the moment, following a lead on a possible fighting ring. If he did find one, there might be a bust, and then they might have another animal on their hands. However much she hoped against it, it was still a possibility she needed to prepare for.

Fatima checked her watch. She would be interviewing a potential volunteer in a few minutes, and was scrolling through the application email one more time prior to the meeting.

This is a cause I want to contribute to. I like animals, though I've never worked with large ones except for a little time spent with horses, but I'm willing to learn. My friend Will Kleinke told me about this place.