The Incredible Rescue Journey of Peter Zheutlin (and Friends)

When I first published my website over ten years ago, I had a page I called The Reading Room. It included the books I had read which helped me become a better animal welfare advocate. “Redemption: The Myth of Pet Overpopulation and the No Kill Revolution in America,” and “Irreconcilable Differences: The Battle for the Heart and Soul of America’s Animal Shelters,” by Nathan Winograd. “The Lost Dogs: Michael Vick’s Dogs and Their Tale of Rescue and Redemption,” by Jim Gorant. “The Pit Bull Placebo: The Media, Myths and Politics of Canine Aggression,” by Karen Delise. Those were just a few. As you may expect, my collection has grown over the years and I've blogged about a number of my favorites. We are such an interconnected society today, thanks to the wonders of the Internet, that I am constantly learning about new books to add to my education and my collection (Yes, I am old enough to have survived living before the miracle of email, the Internet and video conferencing, amazing as that may seem).

One of my new favorite authors is the focus of this blog. Peter Zheutlin. If you have not read his books, you’re really missing out on a treat. Peter has written a host of books on a variety of subjects and has a remarkable resume of the many and very different jobs he’s held over the years. The books I’ve read are what I call his “animal books.” They are “Rescue Road: One Man, Thirty Thousand Dogs, and a Million Miles on the Last Hope Highway,” “Rescued: What Second-Chance Dogs Teach us About Living With Purpose, Loving With Abandon, and Finding Joy in the Little Things,” and his most recent book, “The Dog Went Over the Mountain: Travels with Albie, An American Journey.”

This blog is not a review of his books.  I don’t want to tell you too much about them and spoil the value of reading them for yourself. The title of each book explains much about the book and gives you a glimpse into what is to come. I would like to share my impressions, which won’t give away too much.

Rescue Road is amazing, inspiring, heart-wrenching and thought provoking all at the same time. I have historically not been a fan of what I describe as mass-transports from one region of the country to another, but there is no denying that but for the tireless work of Greg Mahle and a host of other people, countless animals would die in our antiquated animal shelter system.

Rescued was life affirming, humorous and touching. As a staunch advocate of animal rescue, reading the stories of others felt like coming home to a tribe which spans the nation.

The Dog Went Over the Mountain was a wonderful journey from start to finish.  I felt like I was along for the ride, sometimes quite literally, and it left me pondering what the places I’d like to experience in my days left on this Earth.

I asked Peter to help me with a Q&A instead, a format which has worked well with other authors I’ve blogged about in the past. I think it’s helpful to learn something about these incredibly talented people that you may not get just from reading the book or books.  I like to think of it as the written version of sitting down together to have a conversation. You can learn more about Peter on his website and he may be in a city near you very soon.  His events page has a listing of his appearances for his book tour for The Dog Went Over the Mountain.

I’d like to thank Peter for taking the time to engage with me about his books. I hope you’ll read them, become a fan like me and add the books to your own personal library. Enjoy.

You have a fascinating background which includes work as a lawyer, as a journalist and working for an organization which was awarded the 1985 Nobel Peace Prize. How does your work as an author compare to your prior occupations in terms of satisfaction? Do you feel like you were always meant to be a writer?

Well, I didn’t exactly have an illustrious legal career! I never regret having gone to law school, but working in a law firm just wasn’t for me. I taught first year legal skills courses, first at Northwestern University School of Law and the University of Virginia Law School and enjoyed that, but in mid-1980s had a chance to join the staff of an organization called The International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War (IPPNW). It’s hard to appreciate decades later just how front and center the nuclear arms race was as a global issue at that time, so the work was very meaningful to me, and it gave me the opportunity to travel all over the world and work with some truly extraordinary people. It was during my time at IPPNW that I started writing op-ed columns and features on issues related to nuclear arms. To be honest, it was a kick to see my name I print and to know that a lot of people would see what I was writing. All of this work…as a lawyer, as a law school instructor, as the staff member of a large NGO (non-governmental organization) was very collaborative. Being an author is more of a solitary pursuit. Sure, you interview people, you write about experiences you’ve had in the world, but most of the work itself is solitary and I rather like that. There are no staff meetings, no office politics, and no office holiday parties.

You've written a number of books on a host of topics. What led you to write animal-oriented books?

In 2012, after more than twenty years of fending off the pleas of my wife and kids, I finally agreed to get a family dog. When my wife suggested a rescue dog I was perplexed; I imagined a St. Bernard with a whiskey barrel under its chin in the Alps. Seriously. But once I was educated I was on board. I have always been disposed to the underdogs in life and there are tens of thousands of real underdogs that come into shelters every year in the United States; the lost, the abandoned, the abused, and the neglected. And they need someone to step up and give them another chance in life. So, in 2012 we adopted Albie, a two-three year old Lab mix who was found wandering alone on a street in rural Louisiana. He was brought to a shelter where nearly 90% of the dogs who come in never leave. I knew nothing about the scope of the problem or the rescue process and decided to take a deep dive into that world to learn more. I was so in love with Albie and I wanted to know more about the people who made his rescue possible. That led to my first “dog” book, Rescue Road: One Man, Thirty Thousand Dogs, and a Million Miles of the Last Hope Highway. The  “one man” is Greg Mahle of Rescue Road Trips. He was the man who drove Albie north from Louisiana. He was my entryway into the world of rescue.

Rescue Road tells the story of your travels with Greg Mahle. Most people would have a hard time envisioning a trip that difficult and emotional. Do you have a single most difficult memory and a single most positive memory from the trips?

In addition to driving thousands of miles with Greg, I spent time in some of the communities where so many rescue dogs come from. For example, I spent an evening with volunteers from a group called Forgotten Dogs of the Fifth Ward in Houston. The number of strays, many clearly suffering, on the streets of Houston was astonishing. Perhaps my favorite moment came at the very last drop off spot in Connecticut where families were waiting for Greg to arrive with their new dogs. As we pulled into the parking lot a group of about 40 people started jumping and waving signs welcoming their new pups. Greg pulled to a stop, turned the truck off and took in the scene for a minute. Then he said this to me: “A week ago these dogs were all going to die. Now the doors will open, the light will come flooding in and each one will be delivered into the arms of a loving family. This is heaven.”

After Rescue Road, you wrote a heartfelt book called Rescued. Are there any particularly impactful stories you left out of the book you can share with us?

If they were impactful stories I surely would have included them in the book! But you always hear heartwarming stories when you talk to people who have rescued a dog. Sure, there are times when an adoption doesn’t work out, but the vast majority do and the joy and the intensity of the bonds people form with their dogs is truly remarkable. I didn’t appreciate that until we adopted Albie, and then Salina, and then Jambalaya, all rescues from Louisiana. I think everyone who rescues wishes they had room for just one more.

The Dog Went Over the Mountain is an incredible story of a cross-country journey you took with your dog, Albie. Now that it is behind you, is there anything you wish you had done but did not get the opportunity to do? Was there something that didn't make it to final editing for the book that you'd like people to know about your journey?

As I write at the very beginning of the book, this is the story of a road trip and you cannot really get to know a place, any place, unless you spend extended time there. And I’ve already gotten some criticism for sharing my impressions of places based on limited exposure. But when we travel, that’s what we do; we form impressions, fair or not, based on limited experience. It’s why some people love New York or Omaha, for example, and some don’t. It’s the nature of a road trip to pass through many places. There are countless places and people with a story to tell and you just can’t gather it all. So, do I wish I could have immersed myself in the life of some of the places we visited? For sure. But, as I said, we were on a road trip, not an anthropological mission.

You have become a huge proponent of adoption and rescue of animals needing homes. We now have a presidential candidate making the plight of shelter animals a campaign issue. Do you think a time will come when we no longer have so many companion animals at risk and our animal shelters keep the healthy and treatable animals alive?

There was a story recently in The New York Times that documented the progress we are seeing in this area, even since we adopted Albie. Nationwide, more shelter animals are being saved, “euthanasia” rates are down (I use quotes because the word sanitizes what’s really going on which is the killing of often healthy, perfectly adoptable animals), and public awareness of the issues is on the rise. More and more shelters and communities are moving towards the “no kill” philosophy and “live release” rates (the inverse of “euthanasia” rates) are rising. This is a trend and not an end point, though. We seem to be moving in the right direction and that’s encouraging.

(image of Peter and Albie at Half Moon Bay,  courtesy of Peter Zheutlin)