Lynne C. Murtha remembered

3 August 1942 – 18 November 2011

 

Lynne and Meg’s Mariah in 1992

(Excerpt from the tribute I wrote and Scott Murtha read at Lynne’s funeral)

No tribute could do justice to the woman I knew for 30 years and will never forget. Who else but Lynne could come up with the concept of pet cows? Well … she had two of them and they were older than any veterinarian had ever seen. Cows aren’t allowed to live long or happy … except around Lynne Brandt Murtha.

Her guiding principle was that all living beings deserve to be treated with dignity.  This wasn’t just armchair philosophy … Lynne acted on her beliefs, undeterred by obstacles or demands.

At times Lynne’s mission to help the helpless took a bizarre turn. Like the time she set out to liberate a trailer-full of lions scheduled to be shown at Tulsa’s former Promenade Mall. Like a modern queen Boudicca, fearless, she took the cause of animals being misused as “exhibits” to be gawked at, jeered, and stressed by Christmas shoppers. She talked to management persuasively. And although the rented lions were not sent back to the African savannah as she surely intended, Promenade Mall discontinued all animal displays thereon.

One case in particular synthesizes her ecumenical concern for animals.

Another exceptional woman, Meg O’Meilia, who died in October 1990 much too young at age 35, had entrusted me with finding good homes for her horses, dogs, and cats. The ensuing months were the most stressful of my life until they were all in carefully vetted homes, except one: a lame mare named Mariah, no less than Meg’s equine pride and joy.  The time came when the pasture where the once pampered Mariah lived, now alone and poorly attended, was put up for sale and she had to be moved without delay. No one wanted a horse who served no purpose except to eat hay and run veterinary bills with her troublesome leg.

Listening to my despair over Mariah’s waning options -- and over beers at the unforgettable Pickles Pub -- Lynne casually said, “Let me see if I can borrow a horse trailer.” Was Lynne suggesting we take Mariah to be euthanized? With no fight left in me, I just asked where would we take her. “To Jenks; see how she and Moses get along.”

I threw my arms around her, knocked the beers, started sobbing … “Quit! You are embarrassing me,” Lynne said, and we ordered a fresh round.

Moses, the BLM burro slated for slaughter and saved last minute by Steve and Lynne, was a loner. But this changed the moment Mariah clumsily but proudly stumbled out of the trailer and became Moses’ dominatrix … with his enthusiastic cooperation.

Thus Lynne added two more to her long list of rescues -- Mariah and me. 

 

Lynne, Tulsa SPCA President John Wright (radio personality Denver Fox), and me.

Lynne’s tireless pursuit of “justice for all” in its purest sense was enabled by husband Steve –a man who accepted pet cows— sons Todd and Scott who inherited their mother’s empathy, daughter-in-law Janene and grandchildren.  They healed the emotional tear and wear of Lynne’s compassion.

There is a poignant epitaph Lord Byron wrote on 18 November 1808:

Beauty without Vanity / Strength without Insolence / Courage without Ferocity / And all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.

Fitting tribute to Lynne … but intended for Boatswain, Lord Byron’s beloved dog, who also ended his journey on 18 November, two centuries earlier. Lynne would be amused by this cosmic coincidence.

Lynne, Meg, Mariah: Not forgotten.