I once had a shelter director tell me that to a dog, an animal shelter is like a prison. This was years ago. I've thought about her words many times over the years and as I have become more familiar with how most traditional shelters operate as compared to more progressive shelters. When I was contacted by a woman recently who tried to help a stray dog and whose story did not end well., I felt compelled to write something about the difference between a true shelter and an animal holding and disposal facility. In one city, a large dog with no name is seen running across a major roadway and stops near a local business. We'll call him Max. A concerned citizen tries to help Max. She attempts to get him into her car so that she can take him to a local rescue group or get help. Max is fearful, won't get in her car and someone at the business calls animal control. Max is taken to the local “animal shelter” to be held for five days. The citizen calls about Max to inquire about him. She is told that she either has to find Max's owner or find a rescue group to take Max in order to save his life. She tries valiantly to find someone to help and can find no one. She cannot take Max herself because she already has a house full of dogs. As the days pass, Max becomes more stressed. He first tries to bite a kennel worker. A couple of days later he tries to bite a child who put her hand through the kennel fencing. A few days after that, Max lunges at a shelter worker and another dog who are passing by his kennel. And that was it for Max. He was destroyed. Max was not in a shelter. Max was in a holding facility. What no doubt began as confusion for him escalated to fear and anxiety, leading to the point where he was deemed too dangerous to live. In another city, a dog named Forest enters a shelter. He's a unaltered lab/pit bull type mix who charges at the kennel door and shows his teeth. Luckily for Forest, he is in a true shelter, as most of us would interpret that word. Rather than let Forest simply exist in the shelter or deteriorate with time, the staff there work with him. They make time for him. They talk to him, sit outside the kennel door to simply be near him and they work slowly but surely to form a bond. This story has a happy ending. It turns out Forest is a sweet and gentle dog who thinks kissing people is wonderful and who is a perfect candidate for adoption. In writing about Forest's care, the shelter director said this: “If your cat or dog was ever lost and brought to a shelter, became petrified due to a shelter's scary, new environment (like Forest), and was tossed into a caged kennel (like Forest), and was separated from his or her family making it hard to trust the strangers imprisoning him or her (like Forest was), wouldn't you want shelter staff and volunteers to explore every option possible before killing your dog? I like to think we all would want this for our own animals. For this reason, we explore every option available for every animal that comes to us. Forest and so many other animals are safe and alive today because we do what we need to do to get animals past the anxiety of being dropped off in a terrifying building like an animal shelter." It has been said that the manner in which dogs behave in shelters tell us “as much or more about the effect of the shelter as they do about the individual dogs. Shelters are noisy, alien environments, filled with strange smells, unfamiliar people, and dogs they may hear, but not see. In light of all these factors, we should not be surprised that some dogs. . .will behave differently when confined in a shelter, with its barrage of stressors that the dog cannot control, than they will in the safe, secure, predictable environment of a home, cared for by people with whom they are able to form positive attachment.” (National Canine Research Council.) Every dog entering a place we call a shelter should be given the same opportunity for redemption as was Forest. Places which fail to take even a small amount of time to help set dogs up for success should not be called shelters at all. Let's call them holding and disposal facilities so the public they serve is under no illusions about what happens there. I know that some dogs are just broken. They are genuinely dangerous to people and should not be allowed to be adopted out into our communities. But I also know that any dog I have ever loved would be terrified, scared, traumatized and anxious in a traditional shelter environment and would have been destroyed. And for me, that is the biggest tragedy of all. (image courtesy of Terrah Johnson)
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I had a conversation with a shelter director recently during which she touched on the level of division between “factions” of the animal welfare movement. I spoke of my frustration in gaining cooperation from officials in my region in spite of exhaustive attempts to provide encouragement and help. She spoke of having been verbally assaulted in the grocery store by people who accused her of wanting to destroy animals. We both agreed that if people who are passionate about the subject of animal welfare would simply check their egos and personal agendas at the door, conversations about how to save the lives of shelter animals would be much more civil and much less toxic.
When I think of the division between people about animals, it brings to mind an image of a deep chasm or gorge. On one side of the chasm is the animal loving American public. We love our companion animals at best and value them at least. We know they are not children, but they are family members and are involved with almost every facet of our daily lives. We care for them, take them on trips, give them toys and treats and when we lose them to time or illness, the loss can be devastating. Most of the people on “this side” of the chasm either know little about how animal shelters operate or they just don't think about it. We all think about what affects us personally and what shows up on the radar of daily life for each of us. Most people on this side presume that the shelters operated using our tax dollars and donations do the best they can to save animals and that animals are only destroyed for reasons of mercy. We like to think we are progressive, informed and we make good choices because we love our pets. On the other side of the chasm are those who work in the animal sheltering industry. Some work for municipal shelters and others work at nonprofit shelters. For those on the “other side” who work at shelters which routinely destroy healthy and treatable pets, life can be grim. Even if they love animals and want to help, they feel overwhelmed, underpaid, misunderstood and most of them are angry. At the public. They see the people they serve or engage with as the source of the problems, often referring to the irresponsible public which makes mistake after mistake and which treat pets as if they are disposable. They feel they are forced to do acts behind closed doors which no one could possibly want to do and yet they feel they have no choice. They think they are doing the best they can. The only way we will ever become a no kill nation – above and beyond the list of no kill communities which grows with each passing day – is for us to bridge the chasm. The subject of animal sheltering must be put on the radar of the public so they understand what is taking place using their money and so they can be educated to make better choices like spaying and neutering pets, ensuring pets can be identified if lost, not allowing dogs to run at large, making plans for pets in the event of some crisis or family emergency. And yes, taking a good look at whether or not we are prepared to live up to the long-term commitment which comes with being a pet caregiver and which cannot simply be abandoned when things don't go quite as we planned. And those in the animal sheltering industry must, once and for all, take ownership and responsibility for what happens in shelters and stop presuming that every animal ends up in the shelter due to someone's irresponsibility or complacency. They must stop assuming that the public knows the challenges and issues faced by the shelter just because they know as if it is obvious to all outside the shelter walls. It is not. And it makes no sense at all to say, “this is your fault. You are to blame for the death. But won't you please volunteer and donate and foster and adopt?” Yes, there are people who should never have pets but shelters simply must presume the best of the public they support, be firm with the public in order to stop the cycle of pet surrender and help the public understand exactly what help is needed to save the lives of healthy and treatable pets. Check your ego at the door. Grab some rope. It's time to bridge the chasm. For the sake of the animals we say we love and value in our society. There is a lot of talk these days about the phrase "no kill." It is much misunderstood and it makes a lot of people uncomfortable. There are those who say we should not use the phrase because it is divisive or because it offends people. Some would tell you that no kill is not possible or that it is irresponsible. Others say that we should use the phrase "low kill" instead. I'm not entirely sure what that even means. Some who oppose no kill philosophies use the phrase as a weapon to try to discredit a social movement which is changing our country, whether they like it or not. Yet others toss the phrase around and apply it to situations which have nothing to do with true no kill philosophies. I saw a story on the news last night from my area in which the phrase no kill was used inaccurately and this leads to my blog of today. This is what "no kill" means - and does not mean - to me. If you do not agree, that's perfectly fine. I'm writing this to bring some clarity to the subject for those who really have no idea what the rest of us are talking about. For an in-depth look at the phrase, I encourage anyone reading my blog to read this publication by the No Kill Advocacy Center called "Defining No Kill." No kill is a culture in which healthy and treatable animals are not destroyed in our shelters for space, convenience or following some tradition using our tax dollars or donations. In this culture, the only animals destroyed are those who are suffering, are irremediably ill or dogs who are so genuinely aggressive (as opposed to scared or traumatized) that they are unsafe to have in our communities (and for which no sanctuary placement is available).
No kill is not a definition. It does not mean that no animals ever die. To keep animals alive when they are truly suffering or are so genuinely broken that they present a danger to the public would be unethical and irresponsible. No kill is a philosophy which says the lives of all companion animals have value and that those animals must be treated as individuals, worthy of our time and attention to keep them alive. In this philosophy, homeless animals are treated as either having been someone's beloved companion or being capable of being that companion. They are essentially given the benefit of the doubt, treated as adoptable and not blamed for the fact that they need our help. No kill is not about simply keeping animals alive, regardless of the conditions in which they live. It does not allow animals' physical, psychological or emotional well-being to be compromised just so we can say "they are alive and we did not destroy them." No kill is about programs which function in concert with each other to both reduce shelter intake and to increase shelter output so that animals spend the least amount of time possible in an institutional setting. When animals are boarded for undefined periods of time, that is not no kill. That is a situation which is simply not sustainable financially. It can also cause animals to become so accustomed to living in a kennel environment that they are ill-prepared for the stimulation of life outside of the kennel. When animals are collected on rural properties out of the knowledge and view of the public and law enforcement authorities, that is not no kill. That is essentially collecting and more often than not it also involves neglect and abuse. When animals are kept at a "sanctuary" which does not function within its financial and physical ability to properly care for and then place those animals, that is not no kill. Overwhelmed sanctuaries are little more than animal prisons where the animals and the people caring for them are under incredible amounts of stress, often leading to disaster. No kill is about values and hope and compassion and about doing our very best for companion animals because we care about them and we want the very best for them. I understand that there are a lot of people out there doing a lot of great things to try to help animals and keep them alive. I think that any person who genuinely means well in their efforts to help animals should be commended. But with those efforts comes a responsibility to learn how to best care for those animals while avoiding a situation where the people essentially "flame out" - or are arrested- and we are left with a crisis situation where large numbers of animals have to be placed in very short periods of time. If you would like to learn more about no kill philosophies and about what the phrase really means, please educate yourself by doing some homework and by networking with people in no kill communities. You may say that you don't have time for that. I say you have to make time. The lives of companion animals depend upon you being not just a passionate advocate but an informed advocate. I grew up not just in an animal-friendly household, but in an animal-integrated household. We always had companion animals and they were part of the family. Some lived short lives and we lost them to illness. Some lived decades and we would marvel at how healthy they remained year after year. I take for granted that companion animals are a long-term commitment. You don’t give away or discard your family members. It’s just not done. Because I was raised this way, I have very limited tolerance for people who treat companion animals like things or like furniture. Your dog is not a couch. Your cat is not a lamp. When you bring a companion animal into your life and your home, you should be prepared for a 15 to 20 year commitment and all that the commitment entails through the good, the bad, the hilarious, the infuriating and the heart breaking. I have often thought there should be pet caregiver vows, but I’m not sure who would administer them. I make this promise to you. I will care for you for your time on Earth. I will value you on my worst of days and on your worst of days. If you make a mess or eat my shoes, I will understand that is not done with malice but is the result of something I failed to do for you. I will help you understand my language and I will learn yours so that we can communicate easily. I will make sure you can be identified if we are ever separated from each other so you can find your way home. I will never hurt you, abandon you or be cruel to you. If you get sick, I will take care of you. When you get old, I will take care of you. I will have a care plan for you in case something happens to me so that you will have a new home with people who will love you as I do. I value your unconditional love, your humor, your company and your soul. And I will keep my promise to be there for you for all of your days. If you are not prepared to make a commitment to a companion animal, please do not get one. If you have a burning desire to have a pet, but know you cannot make the commitment that entails, become a foster to save a life. (image courtesy of Harley, Dan and Rudi Taylor; Harley is a puppy mill survivor who was named the Hero Dog of 2015; www.harleypuppymilldog.com)
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AuthorI am an animal welfare advocate. My goal is to help people understand some basic issues related to companion animals in America. Awareness leads to education leads to action leads to change. Archives
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image courtesy of Terrah Johnson
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