©Pat Etchells
reprinted with permission from Princeton Dog
Training Club's Dog Tales
Pat Crew (AKA "foster mom") and I had been doing cocker rescue for
a number of months - cleaning up unwanted cockers, featuring them on my homepage,
and finding new homes for them. But so far, my only exposure had been to dogs Pat
had already bailed out. One Saturday in April, Pat asked whether I wanted to go for
a ride to an urban kill shelter - there were three cockers who were scheduled to
be destroyed the next day - they had been strays and their 48 hours when the owners
could reclaim them was up, and we were their last chance. Even though they had passed
the rigorous temperament test and were deemed adoptable, if someone didn't bail them
out before their space was needed, they would be history.
I had been in suburban shelters before, but nothing prepared me for this experience.
In all honesty, the animals did appear to be taken care of humanely, and all of the
personnel seemed to be pleasant. But the task they are faced with is overwhelming.
I was immediately struck by the sheer number of dogs and cats; the noise volume;
and most of all, the smell. We were gagging. Room after room, cages two tiers high,
with just a piece of Kraft paper on the concrete floors of the crates, which were
pitched so urine sort of flowed to drains in the front. The floors were wet from
having been hosed down recently.
We waded through this to reach the first of our targets - a buff male, low key, but
really happy to get out of the crate and onto solid ground. Our second stop was by
an upper level crate where a fuzzy, dirty black male was waiting. I happened to be
closest to him, and no sooner was his crate opened than he was in my arms washing
my face for all it was worth - like he knew I was his lifeline (and totally drenching
me with pee-soaked feet in the process...). Then jumping around pulling my arm out
of its socket - "let's get out of here" - while the shelter people searched
for the third dog.
When it came time to clean up these guys, the buffs weren't anything out of the ordinary.
One didn't have too much hair to start with, the other was fairly matted, and was
a routine cut-down. But the black presented us with a completely unique situation
- a dog with coat - and NO MATS, even after sitting in puddles of urine for who knows
how long. A touch up facial trim, and of course a BATH, and he was good to go.
By the time we reached the point of taking pictures to put these guys on the web
page, we knew we had something special here. Not only was he in great physical shape,
but what a personality. Loved people, loved life, loved other dogs. Just a silly,
happy kind of guy. I must admit I mentally counted the number of dogs I had - then
came to my senses.
It didn't take very many phone calls among people who had previously expressed an
interest in a dog to make a connection with the perfect home. And he just moved in
- like he'd always been there. He has already completed a basic obedience course
at a nearby club. He was a real head turner there. Not only with the question "HE
is a rescue dog?" but with the comment "he's doing so well!" Optimistically
he'll be making a debut in obedience trials next year.
Granted, this dog was exceptional. But we have found many of these rescue dogs have
wonderful personalities - even if some of them bring emotional baggage into their
new homes. What has never ceased to amaze us is how anxious some of them are to please.
They can't do enough for the people who want to give them a new life. A great attribute
for an obedience dog!
There is currently a web site with a searchable database for dogs held in both shelters
and private rescue groups
http://www.petfinder.org