During the last couple of years, Tom and I have followed economic developments in this country with grave interest. When the housing market went bust, we were unfortunate enough to be caught between real estate transactions, having bought this farm but not having sold the last one. It took us nine months of sleepless nights to finally cut our ties with our Fauquier County farm, and we have felt a sad kinship ever since with everyone caught up in this market. From that start, the credit companies moved to tighten their loan criteria and raise their interest rates, and inflation took a firm hold on the economy. Gas and food prices shot up, lines of credit were canceled and people already on the edge of financial insolvency were pushed off the twin cliffs of foreclosure and bankruptcy.
Among the most poignant victims of this economic perfect storm have been the pets of the families who could not and cannot cope. The shelters are filled to capacity with abandoned cats and dogs, as well as tearfully surrendered canine and feline family members. So, today’s post is about shelter dogs and why one might want to adopt one.
I often ask myself that question. Especially when 12 year-old Bridget forgets that “outside” is a better choice than “inside” at important decision points. Or, when Shandy runs in blind terror from the vacuum cleaner, demolishing everything in her path like a tan cyclone. The mild-mannered, sensible Jack is the epitome of gentlemanly aplomb. But a thick cloud of hair billows permanently behind him like Krakatoa in mid-eruption. How can he actually grow hair fast enough to shed it like that?
The picture above was taken in the Memphis Shelter in 2003. At that time, we were canine rescue volunteers who helped to transport dogs from shelters to rescues, and we also alerted breed rescues to the presence of one of “their” dogs when we spotted one on-line in a kill shelter. This dog is not any particular breed. She is probably several. She is no longer young enough to be cute, not old enough to have been trained. She was nothing special. She was one of a hundred in this shelter and she was out of time. But the fear and confusion in her eyes haunted me and I couldn't put away the image of her desperation. So we made the decision to spring her from the “Big House.” Through the complicated system of rescue volunteers who “pull,” quarantine, shelter and transport, we worked with perhaps a dozen different people to free her from the shelter, have her spayed, vaccinated, and transported, all within the extremely short time frame that shelter dogs live and die in. We drove the last 3 hours of the transport chain to pick her up.
Today, Shandy panics if she even sees a vacuum cleaner. She hides and shakes during thunderstorms. But her enthusiastic welcome is every bit as energetic whether you return home after 5 hours or 5 minutes. She loves for you to come home. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, it improves instantly when you walk in the door. Shandy lives with her best friend, Jack (Graduate of Westmoreland County Shelter, 2003) and Bridget (Hurricane Katrina survivor). All are members of our family that we would not be complete without.
The shelters are full, and there are too many dogs out there just like them. They are just as special and just as deserving of a good home. For anyone who has never considered adopting from a shelter, now would be an excellent time to do so.
1 comment:
My own feeling is that Shandy was a "Christmas" puppy, possibly taken from her mother and siblings too early and, because of her anxiety, developed a "nervous" wetting habit that the family were unable to cope with. She is a sweet dog, who loves all living things and will happily play with them.
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