E6 EZ EE THE WASHINGTON POST.TUESDAY, OCTOBER 20 , 2020
stricter about ground rules.
And finally, this all
underscores how important it is
for you to commit to taking care
of yourself during this time, too.
Social support is one of the most
crucial pillars of emotional well-
being, but we’re in a rather tough
time for it, not just because it’s
hard to gather like we used to,
but because the vast majority of
people are probably more
stressed than usual.
This can make the usual
reciprocity of caregiving among
friends pretty out of whack. So
try to help them give you what
you need, but if they can’t,
remember that sleep, movement,
outdoor time, creative pursuits
and mindful pauses can all help
you feel better as well.Ask Dr. Andrea is a question-and-
answer series from The Lily, a
publication of The Washington Post,
with licensed clinical psychologist
and Georgetown University adjunct
professor Andrea Bonior. To read
more of her columns about
relationships, mental health, work-life
balance, family dynamics and other
issues go to thelily.com/tag/advice/Dear Dr. Andrea: I am 34 years
old, married and the mom of a
toddler. Like pretty much
everyone I know, I feel pretty
stuck in a cycle of negativity
about the world lately. I have a
lot of anger and fear about what
is happening in our country, and
it can feel all-consuming at
times. I have a good group of
friends, and we talk when we
can, which is not nearly as much
as we’d like, given what we have
going on with kids and jobs. I
love these friends dearly, and
they are an important part of my
life.
The problem is, almost every
single time we talk for the past
few months, we just start talking
about how stressful things are.
We vent about the
administration and worry about
the upcoming election. The next
thing I know, that’s all we get to
do and I end up more drained
than before.
I miss being with these women
in a real, true way. It is hard
enough that we don’t really get to
hang out anymore, but when we
do talk online or by phone, I feel
like we are squandering all our
time raging about someone I
hate. And I end up feeling even
lonelier. But I also don’t want to
not talk about that, because it is
on my mind all the time.
I’m so frustrated with the
situation, but I also don’t know
how avoid talking about this
stuff and it would feel so strange
to pretend like it’s not
happening.
— Stuck in the vortexStuck in the vortex: I’ve been
seeing this a lot. It’s like the
social media doomscrolling so
many of us can’t stop engaging
in. It ups our anxiety and makes
us feel worse, but the idea of not
doing it — leaving that itch
unscratched, wondering if the
unknowns of this dystopian
situation would be even more
horrifying than whatever we’ll
actually find — can be even
harder to bear. So we scratch and
scratch until it hurts.
But since this is such a
common challenge, it’s likely
that your friends are
experiencing it, too. And what’s
great about close friendship is
that you can communicatehonestly and vulnerably and
make room for each other’s
feelings and preferences,
prioritizing supporting each
other in the ways that you need.
Right now, you need a break
from the doom, period. And you
need a dose of connection with
them that’s not tied to headlines
or current events.
So think of this as a potential
group project: repurposing some
of your all-too-precious time
together into something more
nurturing. Before you talk next,
float the idea of needing a break
from the news, even just for part
of the time. Aim for flexibility (no
gag orders) and focus on what
you do want, not what you don’t,
making sure this feels agreeable
to everyone. Maybe you all
decide you’ll spend 15 minutes
on the latest “Can you believe it?”
political developments, but then
45 minutes on your hopes for the
future/making each other laugh/
sharing your best self-care tips/
the nuances of your latest Netflix
obsession. Or maybe you’ll
choose to each just start with
something personally
newsworthy other than theheadlines. Or perhaps share a
new theme for the entire
conversation: bright spots you’re
grateful for, family or
professional developments, or
drama unrelated to the White
House.
If the group makes these plans
but then slips back into politi-
venting, then it may just be that
the pressures of these times arefelt too deeply for your friends to
withstand them. Realistically,
they may be stressed enough
about everything that it’s just too
difficult for them to change
course, and so there’s a mismatch
in needs right now. If that’s the
case, see if you can get more one-
on-one time with individuals in
the group who could use the
break like you can, and beASK DR. ANDREA
How do I tell my friends I need a break from talking about politics?
ISTOCKFor Carson, what makes Safe in
Austin a second home for her is
“the unconditional love, the grace
and the freedom to make a differ-
ence no matter what your story is
— whether you’re a kid or an adult
or an animal.”
While she feels bonded to all
the animals at the sanctuary,
there is one recent addition that
Carson is particularly fond of: a
calf named Ruby Sue.
Wallace-Griner rescued Ruby
Sue from a beef cattle ranch in
South Texas. She was born with a
genetic defect known as Curly
Calf syndrome, which usually re-
sults in calves being stillborn.
“From the hips up, she is a
healthy, loving calf,” said Wallace-
Griner, explaining that her spine
and hind legs are fused together,
preventing her from walking.
“When she got home, I fed her
the first bottle,” said Carson. “I
have a shirt that says, ‘a cow is my
best friend’ and we made her a
bandanna that says, ‘a human is
my best friend.’ ”
When Wallace-Griner posted
photos and videos of Ruby Sue to
Safe in Austin’s social media pag-
es, a pet supply company special-
izing in manufacturing equip-
ment for disabled pets reached
out and offered her a custom
wheelchair.
“We knew we wanted to help
her live longer,” said Mikayla Fee-
han, social media coordinator at
Walkin’ Pets.
On Sept. 19, Ruby Sue took her
first steps, with the help of her
new wheels.
The company has also donated
several wheelchairs to animals at
the sanctuary in the past.
“We have four dogs with bro-
ken spines or paralysis that use
wheelchairs to get around, and
they donated all of those chairs to
us,” Wallace-Griner said.
This week, a rescued dog
named Halo received a prosthetic
leg. She, too, took her first steps.
“She actually ran,” Wallace-Gri-
ner said.
She revels in moments like
these, but above all, her favorite
part of the farm is helping ani-
mals give hope and confidence to
those who need it.
“This is a place for anyone
who’s heart is in need of some
unconditional love and friend-
ship,” Wallace-Griner said. More at washingtonpost.com/
inspired-lifePHOTOS BY SAFE IN AUSTINly. To accommodate pandemic re-
strictions, the sanctuary has shift-
ed to private family tours and
what they call “healing hearts”
tours only.
“If anybody emails that is hav-
ing a hard time for any reason, we
invite them out for a healing
hearts tour. I ask them for a little
background as to what they’re
dealing with, and I decide which
animals to introduce them to,”
Wallace-Griner said.
“Covid is hard on everyone,neurotypical or not, but for spe-
cial-needs kids it heightens every
aspect of what is different about
them,” she added. “A lot of people
really needed us during the pan-
demic.”
Skylar Carson, 28, volunteers
five days a week at the sanctuary,
and she first came as a visitor in
need of support.
“I have a background of child-
hood trauma,” she said, adding
that the sanctuary has played a
pivotal role in helping her heal.CLOCKWISE FROM TOP:
Several animals at pet
sanctuary Safe in Austin
depend on wheelchairs to get
around. Harper Wulms, 5, and
Jay Salazar, 4, visit with
Priscilla the turkey. Jamie
Wallace-Griner, left, with Ace,
4, who has cerebral palsy, and
Mikey the piglet. Wallace-
Griner’s son, Jackson, then 6,
with his service dog, Angel.BY SYDNEY PAGEH arper Wulms was 2 the first
time she met Priscilla — a turkey
with a rare condition that’s simi-
lar to the one she has.
Harper, now 5, was born with
symbrachydactyly, a congenital
hand abnormality. Harper’s right
hand is disproportionately small
and is missing one finger. Her
parents call it her “lucky hand.”
Harper and her mother were
visiting an animal sanctuary near
Austin, where they live, when
they met Priscilla, a rescued tur-
key that happened to be born with
a “lucky claw.”
The toddler tottered over to the
turkey, her mother recalled, and
the moment Harper understood
the similarity between them, she
smiled.
“It was such a coincidence,”
said Celine Wulms, Harper’s
mother. “Meeting Priscilla has
been a gift.”
The bond between Harper and
Priscilla perfectly captures the
reason Jamie Wallace-Griner
started her animal sanctuary,
Safe in Austin.
“There is something absolutely
magical about watching a child
with differences come out here
and say, ‘They’re just like me,’ ”
Wallace-Griner, 40, said. “When
you see Harper holding Priscilla’s
lucky hand with her own lucky
hand, it just does so much for her
heart.”
Priscilla is one of more than 150
animals with a background of
abuse, neglect or special needs
that Wallace-Griner has rescued
and cared for at her sanctuary in
Leander, a suburb just north of
Austin.
Beyond saving animals that, in
most cases, would otherwise be
euthanized, Safe in Austin also
serves as a haven for people and
animals with disabilities, special
needs, mental health challenges
and traumatic past experiences.
All species are welcome at the
sanctuary, regardless of the con-
dition that Wallace-Griner finds
them in: “We have animals that
are blind or deaf, have diabetes,
cerebral palsy, deformities, miss-
ing limbs, broken spines... t hey
all become part of our family.”
She was inspired to open an
animal sanctuary upon witness-
ing the immense impact a service
dog named Angel had on her
autistic son, Jackson. Angel was 6
when they got her in 2012.
“Angel gave my son confidence
and strength beyond anything I
was capable of doing as his moth-
er,” she said. “We saw a dramatic
difference within weeks.”
Angel, who died two years ago,
was a big, fluffy Great Pyrenees
who was specifically trained to
temper and protect Jackson.
“The security of having an ani-
mal that understood him and
what he was going through
changed everything,” Wallace-
Griner said.
Her son’s relationship with An-
gel propelled Wallace-Griner to
create a safe space for people and
animals to form bonds and love
one another without any judg-
ment.
In 2014, she and her husband,
David Griner, a lawyer, bought an
overgrown, unkempt 10-acre
ranch, with the intention of mov-
ing their family of five there and
creating a home for neglected
animals.
Wallace-Griner said they now
have “20 dogs, 14 cats, eight hors-
es, 32 goats, four rabbits, three
tortoises, one parrot, four tur-
keys, lots of chickens, 18 pigs and
four cows.”
Every one of them has a name.
“Except some of the chickens
are doubled up because they look
the exact same,” she said. “We
have eight chickens named Ash-
ley.”
There’s also a 250-pound pot-
bellied pig named Peter; a family
of goats named Sapphire, Curly
and Ruby; plus a tortoise called
Rex.
Initially, friends of friends with
special needs children would re-
quest to visit the sanctuary. As
word got out, more people asked
to come, and bonds continued to
form between visitors and ani-
mals.
“It just kept getting bigger and
bigger and I realized that it was
time to open up in a way that
would help more people and more
animals,” Wallace-Griner said.
For several years, the cost of
rescuing and caring for the ani-
mals rested exclusively on the
Griners. But as veterinary bills,
medication, food and the cost of
other supplies mounted, the cou-
ple decided to officially make Safe
in Austin a nonprofit organiza-
tion in 2018 to accept donations.
While the suggested donation
amount is $25 per family, visitors
may enter free.
Just as they welcome all ani-
mals, all people are welcome, too:
“We don’t care about the choices
you made in the past, what you
look like, who you love or what
you eat. We concentrate on no
judgment at all,” Wallace-Griner
said.
Gracelyn Woods, a 9-year-old
girl who moved to Austin in June
with her family, was struggling
with the transition and the coro-
navirus pandemic, her mother
said.
“The ranch has helped our little
one embrace change,” said Jess
Woods, Gracelyn’s mother, adding
that they visit weekly. “We kept
coming back and our daughter
started coming out of her shell.
Life just sparked back into her.”
Before the pandemic, Safe in
Austin would host “public days”
on weekends, in which groups
could come walk through the
sanctuary, guided by volunteers
— many of whom were once visi-
tors, including Harper and Celine
Wulms, who now volunteer week-A farm connects
special-needs kids
and injured animals
“There is somethingabsolutely magicalabout watching a childwith differences comeout here and say,‘They’re just like me.’ ”
Jamie Wallace-Griner, founder of
Safe in Austin