The Rant at the Shelter

 My husband and I went to the local county animal shelter to see if one of the puppies from our litter might be there.  It was only my second time there.  Faces became imprinted on my mind as we walked through. The building was made entirely out of concrete.  The dogs had a wood like pallet in their cages to supposedly  stay off the cold, damp floor.  I was instantly chilled stepping through the door, I can't imagine what these dogs were feeling.

I was afraid to touch any of them as I thought I remember there being some sort of rule about sticking your hands through the fence.  There were little buckets hung on the doors that said doggie treats, I remember feeling appalled at the thought.  The building is in an L-shape.  As we reached the half way point, a very old female basset hound took all of might and pulled herself up and over to the door, her tailed wagged every so slightly.  Across from her two pitbulls sat together just staring into space.  And as we turn the corner into the L, it was obvious the dogs in this section had banded together even though they were all in separated cages.  The leader of the group barked and jumped with enthusiasm until my husband went over to greet him and his bark became more of a warning.  We turned to walk away and the dog kept barking, I turned to him as he vented his feelings to me.  Angry.  The boy was angry.  And we were just another pair of worthless people who were letting him sit there.  We were like all the rest.  His 'words' burned into my brain.  The minute we crossed the threshold, this group of dogs all fell silent.

We passed the first set of dogs again to leave.  Each dog's face etched in my head.  Each dog at different stages of hope or lack of hope, confusion and/or anger.  It was overwhelming to say the least.  I wanted to spend hours just sitting with them and letting them tell me how they were feeling and what I could do to help.  And I walked out of there feeling like the cause to this problem, just by being human.  The facility was the least humane building I've ever seen, like a jail.

We were silent for most of the ride home, neither of us knew what to say.  When we got closer to home, the tears began to fall until I was sobbing, "I couldn't do anything."  I was feeling so guilty for not touching any of them and my heart was broken by the old basset girl who gave everything she had to say hi and I did nothing.  "I did nothing!" I cried out.  We pulled in the drive and sat there with my face in my hands and heard that dog rant in my head and realized I did do something, I listened.

I heard him.  I didn't try to stop him, turn my back on him or try to dominate him.  I just softly looked into his eyes with my head lowered and took in everything he was telling me.  And I understood.  I understood what it meant to be wronged by another living being.

When he finished, I nodded, silently thanked him and walked away.  That's when all the dogs fell silent.  At the time I felt like there was nothing I could do for him, until I realized when I got home I gave him what he needed at that moment...someone to listen. 

Show Us Your Treat Jar Day!

The Cybersibes are having their second annual, "SHOW US YOUR TREAT JAR DAY" to help spread the word about donating treats to your local shelter. 

We have a few of these jars around the house.  And no...not with all the goodies scattered around.  BOL!  How long do you think those would last scattered on the table like that??  :)

But these two "Cookie Jars" are extra special and drive the dogs wild!  Check them out...

Thank you Cybersibes!  And remember, when donating to your local shelter, don't forget the treats!!

(We have shown these before and had asked where we got these cute cookie jars.  For those who are wondering, we got them at Walmart about 8 years ago.  Not sure if they still make them or not.)
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We are responsible

"Blog the Change" blog hop was our first blog hop and it was an exciting experience.  Real people for real causes.  Out of all the causes, there was one that haunted me the most after I read it.  It is:  Dogs:  A letter from a Shelter Manger on No Dog About It blog.  It is a graphic description of when you drop your dog off at the shelter and expect it will find a good home.  This was one shelter and there a thousand more just like it. 

Brut at 6 weeks

Any one of my dogs could have ended up in a shelter before we got them.  With Brut's aggressive tendencies, the possibilities of him ending up beaten and throw away would have been likely.  Without the right care, concern and patience he probably wouldn't have made it or ended up in dog fighting.  It is never easy caring for a dog with these special circumstances, believe me I've wanted to throw in the towel many a times, but he was my responsibility and I could never come close to actually doing it.  I could never pawn him off to someone else, especially knowing exactly how he was.  I couldn't do that to him or someone else.  I believe it wouldn't be fair to anyone, especially Brut.  We were his family, he didn't know anything else.  Getting rid of him was never an option and that meant digging in deeper to get to the heart of his problems.  I could not fathom losing him no matter what the circumstances.  Brut has blossomed into a wonderful, gentle, caring dog, with a sly, conniving side and I wouldn't have him any other way.  

Blaze looking up, Chance sleeping on Zappa with blue collar at 7 weeks

When we had our litter of puppies, it was by choice and we both knew we were responsible for all 10 puppies, not just from birth to their new homes, but for their lives.  If for any reason the owners were not able to care for them, we would take them back.  No questions asked.  We were never so grateful as when we got the call from Blaze's and Chance's owners to return them and they didn't end up in a shelter.  Both of them could have easily ended up there. The abuse they were suffering made them completely out of control.  It has been challenging to say the least, both of them having such high anxiety levels and are learning to trust again, but it has been worth it.  Nobody could believe that after already have 4 dogs that we would take two more in.  We were responsible for them and it was our responsibility to take care of them.  We were the reason they came into this world and we were accountable to them.  No questions asked.

When ever we have moved, it meant finding a place not just the dogs, but the cats and the duck.  The thought of actually getting rid of any would be like cutting off one of our arms.  They are part of lives.  There are too many animals suffering.  I wish I could bring them all home.  So I would ask anyone to read this letter and think twice before dropping your animal off.  I believe there is always a way if you keep searching for it.   Hugs to all of you that may be in difficult circumstances and wavering about what to do.  I hope you will think twice and realize that you are all your pet has and your the last one he wants to lose.  Please don't give up.