Tag Archives: euthanasia

Tails: Thorp – Is This His Last Chapter?

Some readers might not know much about Thorp, so let me briefly explain. In 2008, I was a reporter at an Amish dog auction interviewing the protestors. They advised me that if I wanted to understand why they were protesting, I should walk in the barn and see everything for myself.

Completely unaware of what I would see, I walked in and immediately my heart sank and tears welled up in my eyes. In front of me were hundreds of dogs, completely neglected, so afraid, so broken. Each of them up for auction to the highest bidder – most of whom were puppy millers.

I made my way to every single cage and grew more upset as I looked into the eyes of almost every dog. When I came to #171, something in my heart and soul spoke to me. He was the oldest dog at the auction and was in horrifying shape. Without any explanation, I knew I would be taking him home.

I sat through the entire auction lasting over 3 hours. When #171 came up for bid near the end, no one really was interested and I bought him for $65.

Thorp the day of the auction.

I had absolutely no clue what I had done, but I knew I would tell his story as the protestors had also advised, “If you go in and end up buying a dog – make sure you tell his story.”

In those agonizing auction hours – I had decided without reservation – that I would buy this dog and I would tell his story.

Well, four years ago, Bark Until Heard was published and Thorp’s story was available for everyone to read.

His story tells of his rehabilitation. See the day I brought him home, I quickly realized he was unlike any dog I had ever had or fostered or cared for at the county shelter. He was afraid of everything. He didn’t understand stairs, door ways, grass, toys, and certainly didn’t trust the human hand. He was the most broken dog I had met (at that point in my life)

It took months and lots of training and patience and love to get Thorp to become a “normal” dog and eventually he became a certified therapy dog who worked with emotionally and behaviorally challenged kids.

Thorp at school on the reading blanket.

In short, Thorp was the dog who changed my entire life. He gave me purpose. He ignited my passion to make a difference. March 12, 2008 will be a day that I never forget. The day I took home the sickest, dirtiest, most scared dog I ever met. It is a day that altered my life goals.

So, flash forward 11 plus years and today Thorp is 16. The last year has really aged him. He shakes a lot. He is completely deaf. He has grown uncertain of the world around him. He pees a lot of the time – anywhere he wants. He often seems confused about his surroundings.

However, he also has moments where he sprints across the yard like a puppy. He rolls around the sofa and pushes all the pillows off like he is playing. He still walks well on a leash and appears excited for walks.

But, as I look into his eyes, I see an emptiness. I see a distance. Sometimes, I think see pain.

Physically, as far as the vet is concerned, there is nothing specifically wrong with Thorp. He has cataracts. He has weird moles. But, no real illnesses or injuries.

However, how do I fairly assess his mental state? When he looks at me and seems confused. When he stands up on the sofa and pees. When he appears lost in a corner and just shakes. When I go to help him on the bed and sofa and he just grimaces in pain.

He eats and drinks normally. He barks and then he also barks at what seems like just wind.

How on Earth do I know when the time is right, if he can’t tell me?

I have had other dogs (and cats) I have had to decide to humanely euthanize because of age and illness. While I loved them all so much, Thorp feels much differently. I feel like I owe him something. His presence has made my heart whole, made my soul find purpose. I cannot get this decision wrong.

And so I ask my dearest animal loving friends – what do I look for? And what are things I might not be seeing, but are already right in front of me?

There are days I worry that his dementia will take him back to the neglectful, awful days of the puppy mill. That when he wakes up scared and unsure, it is because he wakes up thinking he is back there.

I don’t want his last days to be any reminder of the hell he endured for nearly five years. I want him to remember being loved by me, by our family and friends and by all the children he worked with.

I want him to die in peace not live in any kind of agony. I worry I am being selfish keeping him alive and then I worry I am selfish for putting him down.

Part of me wishes he had cancer or some awful illness, so the decision would be simpler. Doggy dementia is tough. It is also tough to live with. When your dog doesn’t always recognize where he is, when he shakes laying next to you, when he pees on the floor as he looks right at you.

I admit a part of me has just avoided confronting the decision. We have three other dogs and two cats and it is easy to focus my attention elsewhere. To be honest, as I proofread blog this aloud to myself, tears are streaming down my face. My heart is breaking just considering the thought of any of it.

I know we don’t get to keep dogs forever. But, just when and how do we decide that the time we have with them has come to an end? How do I decide if this is the last chapter?

Thorp “pawtagraphing” Bark Until Heard.

Tails: Homeless NOT Heartless

I just got back from a few crazy days at Mardi Gras in New Orleans.  The beads, the liquor, the parades – it leaves your head spinning and your liver begging for mercy.  But, beyond the drunken fun, is a very sad reality: the homeless population in New Orleans.  And, for someone like me, it would be impossible to NOT notice that just about every other homeless person we saw had a dog.

A decade ago, maybe even just 5 years ago, I would have been completely distraught by the number of homeless people sharing their homeless lives with a dog.  I would have wanted to take the dogs away and find them homes – find them “better” lives, assuming that a roof equals a better life.

A couple years ago, I did story on a group called Pets of the Homeless.  I learned a lot from them, mostly, the important fact that homeless people love their pets as much as I do.  Homeless people almost always go without food, so their pets can eat first.  Losing their pet is just as devastating to them as it would be for me.  They are homeless, not heartless.

During Mardis Gras, it was my friends who gasped at the idea of allowing dogs to stay with homeless people.  They couldn’t believe I made peace with it.  I pointed out what great shape the dogs were in.  None of them looked the slightest bit hungry.  Their coats were shiny and well-kept.  Their tails wagged.  Some even had sweaters to keep them warm.

Above all else, I could see love and loyalty in the dogs’ and the humans’ eyes as they sat together.

What really allows me to make peace with this situation is the harsh reality of shelters across America.  Over one million dogs will die this year simply because of a lack of space.  As I looked at the dogs sitting in the laps of people who loved them, I also could see the thousands of pictures of dogs in dire need I get every day on Facebook or twitter or thru my own email.  Thousands of dogs who will die alone in shelters.  Each one of them a victim of a human being – a human being who probably had a roof over his or her head.

Homeless people spend every minute with their dogs.  They feed them and love them.  What more could I want for a dog?  Certainly, that is a far better alternative to euthanasia in a shelter. I looked at the dog cuddled tight in his owner’s arms and I thought of the dog alone on death row, days away from being killed.  There is zero doubt in my mind which situation is better.

I did notice many of the dogs weren’t neutered.  In fact, I even talked to a few New Orleans policemen about it.  They weren’t experts, but they both felt that the SPCA would spay and neuter the dogs, it was more likely the owners weren’t willing to let the dogs go.  I am sure they fear never getting them back.

I can’t lie- the images of the people and their dogs haunt me.  I am always trying to understand how someone’s life can come to that.  I also wonder how, as a society, we accept something that seems so fundamentally unAmerican.  Statistics show that thousands of homeless people are military veterans – an even sadder state of America.

I, by no means, have solutions for such complex and overwhelming social issues.  However, I do strongly believe that homeless people should be allowed to keep their dogs.  And while I think we need to always work towards being more compassionate, I don’t think we need to feel such pity for the dogs.  Truthfully, most of the dogs living with the homeless population have it far better than the million dogs left to die in shelters.  Taken even one step further, many of the dogs living with their homeless families are given more love and attention than many of the dogs living in middle class suburbia.

 

Tails: It is Time to See the BIG Picture

Every day people, just like me, post things declaring “millions of dogs and cats euthanized each year.”  Yet, I don’t think many of the people who post those phrases truly grasp the gravity of the words.

I write this blog under duress.  I am pissed off and frustrated.  I feel completely helpless and overwhelmed.  Once again the municipal shelter system is to blame.  For me it is CACC, but I know Chicago, sadly, isn’t alone.  There are hundreds of these crappy shelters across the United States.  Hundreds of shelters killing thousands of animals for NO good reason.

Let me describe my current situation.  A woman contacted me through Facebook.  Her rescue would like to pull two dogs who are “transfer only” from CACC, but her rescue has not been approved yet as a Homeward Bound Partner, so she can’t.  Unfortunately, like her, our rescue, who applied months ago, has not been approved either, so I can’t help her.

Before I continue down what I deem a horrific path, let me address the issue of “transfer only” because, it, too, is one of the ridiculous practices of CACC.  There are hundreds of “transfer only” dogs listed everyday for CACC.  Transfer only means that the dog must go to an approved rescue.  If no rescue pulls it, it will be killed.  The crazy thing about this policy is that we have pulled “transfer only” dogs only to turn around and adopt them almost immediately to people living in Chicago.  The very same people who would have adopted the dog at CACC.  The process would have been quicker and cheaper.  Our adoption fee is $300, CACC’s is like $70.  Why does a perfectly good dog have to be “transfer only?”

I have attended meetings at CACC only to hear their volunteers voice the same concerns.  They say repeatedly, “We never have any dogs for adoption.  People come here from all over the city on a Saturday and the adoption room is empty.”  So, the citizens leave pissed off and never return because who wants to waste their time?

CACC could have lots of dogs for adoption – all different kinds of dogs.  The dogs we pull are small, fluffy dogs – the cute ones – the ones who are almost always easily adopted.  There is no reason why CACC can’t be adopting these dogs out themselves.  Well, there are a few reasons but they only scream words like, “lazy, irresponsible, uncaring, pathetic, etc…”

Back to the scenario…  So, knowing that I can’t help this woman and her rescue,  I turn to FB contacts begging for help.  No answer.  Two dogs are sitting in a city shelter days from euthanasia… there is a rescue who is willing to take them…and yet, absolutely nothing can be done.  Can anyone feel my rage?

I got comments, of course I did.  “Quit whining and network.”  (I believe that is what I am trying to do) “I won’t help anyone right now, there are too many hoarders.”  (So fear of a possible hoarder trumps saving the life of these two dogs?)

In July, I attended the Best Friends Animal Society conference.  I was fortunate to choose to attend  The Kansas City Pet Project session and meet Brent Toellner.  During his presentation he described this scenario:

“Imagine you are walking by a pond and see hundreds of dogs drowning.  You immediately jump in the pond and start saving the dogs by throwing them to anyone who will help on the shoreline.  You don’t ask if they own a fence or if they work all day.  You don’t even care if they have another dog.  You are just grateful that they are willing to help you.”

He went on to say, “That is where we are right now.  Millions of dogs are drowning (dying) in shelters.  We cannot afford to be choosey.”

We have convinced ourselves that saving one is better than saving none.  We say things like, “Saving the life of one dog might not make a big difference, but it is everything to that dog.”  The truth is WE can save them all, if we are willing to fathom the whole problem and not just the two eyes staring us in the face.

No, you or me can’t take a million dogs into our homes, but we can create policies and procedures that take into account the BIG picture and not just a few dogs at a time.

The truth is if we really want to save them all, we can no longer compartmentalize a problem that is in actuality a monumental disaster.  We MUST see the entire picture.

In a nation euthanizing a million good dogs a year, it makes ZERO sense that it takes months to process a rescue application, especially in a giant city euthanizing thousands of dogs a year.  If the applications were processed faster, MORE dogs would be leaving that shelter sooner.

Oh, I know, some of you are worried about hoarders or dog fighters or all of the other terrible possibilities, but as you sit there, why not start counting the number of dogs killed while you were wasting time thinking about all the “what ifs.”  Euthanasia is a given, for each dog you ponder cautiously, at least 5 other wonderful dogs are killed.

If we truly want to save them all, we have to stop being so cautious.  We have to believe what is actually true: there are more good people than bad.

We have to bank on these odds because the numbers don’t lie.  Millions of dogs are killed each year.  We can either choose to change that statistic or we can continue to drag our feet and let dogs die.