How a shelter dog defended his life…and won
For each heartbreak that we have in animal welfare, we have many happy endings. And it is those happy endings that keep us going in the tough work that we do. They are that “light at the end of the tunnel” that gives us a little glimmer of hope that the work we do is not in vain.
This happy ending story starts with a chubby, cheerful, little American Staffordshire Terrier mix. He was a short, stalky, squatty, dog that looked more like an overgrown piglet, than an actual dog. He made happy little grunts when we took him out for his walks, and cheerfully pushed his head into our laps to soak-up the attention that would ensue from his plea for head-pats. He had been in our adoption kennels for about a month, and had truly done his best to charm the pants off of passers-by who had come to peruse the kennels. Unfortunately this little guy had a few things working against him. First, he was an adult with many puppies available for adoptions around him. Second, he was mostly black and generally black dogs have a harder time getting adopted. Third, even though he was an American Staffordshire Terrier mix, he had that blocky head that many equate with a Pit Bull. This little guy was up against some big odds.
After about a month, our adoptions kennels were full, and we had more dogs coming in that were ready to be put up for adoption. At times like these we have to clear space in our adoptions kennels, which unfortunately means that adoptable animals have to be euthanized. Sadly for our chubby little friend, we usually chose to euthanize the dogs that had been there the longest.
That particular day, it was me and another veterinary technician, Tara, performing the euthanasia’s. Usually there was one person in charge of doing the actual euthanasia and a second person in charge of retrieving the animals slated for euthanasia that day. On that day I was performing the euthanasia injections, and Tara was pulling the animals. We were just at the end of our unusually long list, and were both mentally and physically drained. Tara left to get the last dog for the day, while I prepared to draw up the euthanasia solution. I tried to put myself into a very clinical, non-feeling, frame-of-mind, because I knew that our final dog of the day was our cheerful, chubby, little friend in the adoptions kennels.
Sometimes thoughts can creep in that you try to ignore, but can’t. Thoughts like, “He is probably going to be so excited when she takes him out of the kennel because he thinks he is going for a walk, but he has no idea that she is walking him to his death”. I used to torture myself with those thoughts frequently. I bitterly plunged the needle of the syringe into the bottle of euthanasia solution, going on one of my then-common silent rants about having to clean up society’s discards, and assuring myself that I would someday live on a deserted island with no people, just my animals. Seeing the worst of how people treat animals on a daily basis has a tendency to make you a little resentful towards the general public.
Just then, Tara started to walk through the doors of the euthanasia room, with our cheerful little friend in-tow. One thing that I always did when I was euthanizing was put the previously euthanized dog on the floor, in the corner, wrapped in a towel. I hated to put them in the “dead freezer” right away, for fear that I would inadvertently do so when one was not yet deceased. I knew logically that was silly, because I could always listen for a heartbeat with my stethoscope. But I suppose it was a practice that made me feel better. Unfortunately, this time, I was somewhat careless and a paw from the previous dog was showing beneath the towel. Our cheerful little friend happily pranced about 3 feet into the room, saw the paw of the deceased dog, and immediately whipped back around and ran to a kneeling Tara – hiding his face in her lap and shaking. When Tara tried to get him to turn around, he planted his feet firmly down, and would start to bare-down on the leash. He wasn’t budging. Tara looked at me, wide-eyed, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. It was like he knew exactly what was going on. I threw the syringe full of euthanasia solution down on the counter and said, “I refuse to kill this dog”.
Tara and I put him in a holding kennel near the euthanasia room while I began to make frantic phone calls to other rescue groups and shelters. Unfortunately, most rescue groups are breed-specific, taking pure breeds only, and many shy away from taking anything resembling a Pit Bull because they are hard to place into new homes; even if they aren’t Pit Bulls. I finally called an SPCA that was a few hours away, in hopes that we could do what is called a “shelter transfer”. This is where privately-run animal shelters, such as Humane Societies and SPCA’s, will take a dog from another shelter, usually a county or city-run facility, if they have more room.
I spoke to my contact at the SPCA and explained the situation to him. I relayed what happened in the euthanasia room, and told him that I just didn’t have it in me to put the dog down. He agreed immediately and said that he and another shelter representative would be down to our shelter within a few hours to pick up our chubby little friend. Sighing with relief, I hung up the phone and ran off to tell Tara the good news.
Our chubby little friend was eventually adopted by a single woman in Berkeley who needed a companion to keep her company. We ended up naming him “Presto”, after a family friend of mine who is an attorney. I felt that he had done a pretty good job of pleading his case. And he won.
THANK YOU FOR SAVING HIM!
Hello,
I got this ’story’ from a friend to read.
It is a good job to take care of animals. It is hard as well.
I’ve seen shelter-centre’s, I cannot help it to brake down in tears.
It does requir lot of strenght to do a job as such, especially when it comes to the last phase of the dog’s life. I cannot do that, only mustiquos or cockroaches are different.
Don’t think that animal won’t understand what is going on around them. They have their intuition much larger than humans. They are also unconditional loyal, loyalty is something that most humans know hardly, their loyalty is out of selfinterest. They have and give their undying love to humans, even if they are treated badly. Love, another thing that is for most humans only out of seflinterest.
But what is there for solution to bring along for this problem?
Birth control.
Proper information and education.
People’s charackter is another point in this. People are too cruel and heartless when it comes to dealing with animals.
Regular publishing letters in newspapers, school journals with pictures, might help that people start at least changing the direction of thinking.
After thoughts, the deeds are following, as it always has shown. Everything what has been done, has been thought about before doing so.
So, why not help tranforming thoughts positively for the well being of animals.
On every problem is a solution bounded, it is to us to find out which.
With respect and kindest thoughts to all,
Sarada
It’s nice to see a story that has a happy ending for a change.
It’s so sad that too many people don’t care about their pets, and that they end up in shelters.
I’l tell you one of my happy endings this one is personal. Sweet little cocker mix came in incage from animal control obviously a mom large teats, and milk.. I asked where puppies were he looked at me like I had 3 heads. Dog “talked” to all who passed. I put temp hold on for me. Cleaned fleas off, walked, treated for hookworm and then diagnosed with heartworm. I already had 3 dogs. and couldn’t take this one. Pulled my hold and cried all weekend , cages were scheduled to be “pulled” sunday.
Monday a.m. got a call-dog wasn’t pulled because head techs name was on card and she didn’t work Sun. She asked what was up. I said i’ll be in and adopt. Named Sandy and turned out to be THE dog of my life. only lived few more years as heart was so enlarged but love of my life.