Caturday Night Special.

We have a new foster in the house, she came with a few surprises, like giant ticks, lots of little scabs, fly strike, and others. I'm working on a post about her story for later next week. But for now I give you Shiva on my favorite new anchor sheets.

Inaugural Caturday Post.

Yes, we here at The Colbert Report were adopted by a cat.

No really, she came up on the front porch like she owned the place Easter weekend. Referred to as Jolene for a few days, she earned her name of Shiva (the destroyer, in Hindu teachings), quickly.

She is fearless when it comes to the dogs. And readily makes biscuits on your lap as soon as you sit down to do something. You know, in true cat fashion.

Completely black and all of 7 pounds, the vet guesses she's about 10 months old, give or take. Fitting for a cat to be a Virgo don't you think?

Wordless Wednesday. May 30, 2012

Do not give up hope.

I realize that it has been a while.

We are all settled in our new house. The furniture is arranged, the art is on the walls, and a schedule has been developed.

For those not in the know, the sailor is at a separate duty station for a short while due to the navy, we are mucking through. I live alone with five dogs in a town where I know practically no one. There have been 3 visits tween the 7 of us since he left in January. Two when he came to us, and one when I drove with the whole crew up to him in VA, I will be making this trip again in a few days. Hopefully without a repeat of the same events.

We had left them with D's roommate, who also happened to be our dog sitter in SC, while we went on a day date to the aquarium. For whatever single or collection of reasons: cat, squirrel, jet plane, thunder, loud neighbors, something, Buela bolted.

If any of them were to have run off and gotten lost, Buela would have been my last pick.

After 2 nights away from home we got a break while from one of the fliers his roommate had put up for us. She'd been hanging out at an apartment complex across the highway. After a few sightings, traipsing through peoples back yards, running, yelling "Buela" at the top of our lungs, we gave it a rest in the heat of the day. When D got home from work, the three of us went out again, walking slowly through the area she had last been seen, jangling my keys, and hoping. First his roommate saw her coming up through some brush, not running at full tilt like she had been all morning, but she went the opposite direction. Towards the same road D and I had started walking down, she emerged at a half trot from behind a greenhouse, and because she wasn't in full flight mode, she actually looked at and registered us.

Probably the happiest moment of my life.

  Buela being held tightly by her Papa, walking along the line of green houses back to the truck.

Below is an article I wrote for Australian Cattle Dog Rescue Association's June newsletter. It has tips and information on what to do when you lose your dog. Once it is posted to ACDRA.org, I will post a direct link to it.

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Help! I’ve lost my dog!

That was my nightmare last month while on vacation 600 miles from home visiting my husband at his current naval duty station.

Fortunately for us, we found her, but not after a weekend of tears, worry, and searching in the rain.

I received lots of help from the rescue community, for which I will always be grateful. My pay back is sharing with you the numerous tips that were given to me as to how best find your lost pup.

First, not so happy part, know that your dog will be scared and confused. However, be rest assured that most dogs are found within a 2 mile radius of where they were lost.

The most important thing is to not panic. Canvas the area where your dog was last seen with posters. List your phone number, email address, if there is a reward, your dog’s name, and most importantly for these velcro dogs, “Do Not Chase”. Make sure you have a good photo of your dog from the front and at least one side, preferably both, Also list if your dog has markings that will make them stand out. From an ACD point of view, because not many know of the breed you may have to generalize. My own Buela became a small black and tan dog with a tan face. As you can see from the photo that isn’t exactly it, but often people do not notice, or sadly, even care, until they know the dog is being looked for. Another saving grace was mentioning the dog from ”Mad Max” series, as cheesy as it sounds, it definitely gave people an idea of what kind of dog we were looking for.

While you are posting signs, talk to everyone you see, especially local businesses, schools, apartment complexes, mail carriers, and delivery services, these are the people who are in the area every day and would even hopefully notice a dog that doesn’t belong. Our big break came when we went into a leasing office for an apartment complex to let the agents and groundskeeper know she was missing. They had seen her twice that day.

Mornings and evenings will most likely be the time for the most activity of your pet, and your best chance to find them, especially in the heat of summer. If your pet will recognize your vehicle, park it near where they were last seen, leave a door open if you think they will hop in, and leave an article of clothing or blanket near the vehicle. Anything that will have the ‘family scent’ on it. We used the blanket that we cover the seat with. Walk the area carefully, your pet may be holed up somewhere where they can see you, but you cannot see them. If available, bring something unique with you that they will recognize the sound of, we used my car keys due the particular sound the dog tags on them make. Items like squeaky balls are not specific, and may even cause more anxiety. If you have another dog your missing dog is bonded to, bring them along for the walk. If it comes to it contact your local Animal Control to see if they loan out Havahart style traps large enough for your pet. Bait it with more of your dirty laundry, dirty carries more of your scent than clean, and food. I know of several people who have camped overnight in sighting hot spots, I would have too if we hadn’t finally found her.

 If you see your dog, and they do not immediately come to you, do not, as much as you may want to, be upset. We saw Buela several times before we actually got her to come to us. She was in full on flight mode, at one point she looked right at me and didn’t even slow down. It hurt, a lot. The point is, to try to keep the tone of your voice happy and upbeat, your dog will know your cadence and tones. If you are upset and calling their name, it’s less likely they will come to you, thinking they are in trouble.

When not out physically looking for your dog, alert the local Animal Control Officers (ACO), and check the intake kennels at the local shelter. If your pet has one, have their microchip flagged, even if your contract has expired, you can often renew it for a nominal fee. Buela is chipped with Home Again, they marked her as missing and then sent notices to all participating veterinary offices, I did nothing but call in with her chip number and my information.

Do not forget to use the many resources on the internet to find them. Post your pet to Craigslist in both the Lost & Found and Pets section. Check facebook for a Lost and Found dogs page, many states have them, as well as area ASPCA’s and county shelters. Also use area rescues, kennel clubs, and fancier groups to network your pet. There are also services such as Pet Amber Alert, Lost My Pooch, Lost and Found Pets America and several others.

Finally, do not give up hope.

--

W

Birthdays & Moving

Nov 27th, Buela turned 5.













Dec 3rd, Colbert also turned 5.














Both days were uneventful, fetch, sun puddle recharges, couch naps, new raw hides and toys, dinner, and cuddles.

Dec 21st, their whole world in NH gets packed up and loaded onto a truck headed to GA.

Needless to say things are about to get a bit crazy here, all five of them already know it, especially since D packed up and left for two weeks of training in VA yesterday morning.

Fun times ahead though!

I shall leave you with Colbert checking out the couch after my friends V and M left last night.

Veteran's Day.

April, 2009.



Oreo came to Carolina ACD Rescue and Rebound from a home headed out of the country at the ripe “old” age of eight. Amazingly, he knew nothing about manners, whether be they basic commands, acceptable behavior, or walking on a leash. As his new foster home I was surprised he knew his name. He had spent quite a bit of time kenneled before we heard about him, and as with most cattle dogs, kenneling was not a prime solution for him, yes, it was better than a gas chamber, but he suffered. His allergies, coupled with anxiety, had caused him to lick most of the fur off his fore limbs by his elbow, his feet were saliva stained from his licking, and his ears were hairless from his constant rubbing of them due to the raging yeast infection he had in both.
He was not a happy camper.
We signed on to foster him and another CACDR&R alum that was in a boarding situation, Melissa decided that Oreo was the best fit as she was sure we could handle his large size, strength, and lack of discipline. In his time at the kennel, Melissa thankfully found out he is highly food motivated and taught the old codger “sit”. He came to our house in March of 2009, Oreo was now nine.
The summer came and went, as did Oreo’s tenth birthday, and Donovan’s reenlistment with the US Navy. We were set to move and no other foster home was available, we looked at Oreo and how well he fit with the our existing pack of four and signed the papers to officially become those” dog people”. It was Veteran’s Day, 2009.
It will be two years since Oreo officially became ours, his ears are gorgeous and the fur has grown in with matching white tufts of fur inside, we call them his old man hairs. His allergies are well under control, only acting up when spring pollen is rampant. He has learned several basic commands, leash manners, and impulse control (ok, we are working on this still). We have discovered that he has arthritis in lower back, and hypothyroid issues, but despite all this, our vet has declared him one of the best looking, and healthiest 12 year olds in his practice.
While Oreo can be cranky when being asked to do something he doesn’t want to do, like give up his spot on the bed to the humans, he is a lover. He will give up his belly for a good rubbing anytime, anywhere, even in the middle of a pet store or the vet’s office. Ear, head, and butt scratches are his favorite, and he is the only one of my five dogs that will take a treat from my mouth, this is also the only time he will take any treat without living up to his name of snapdragon. In typical cattle dog fashion, he needs to be near or touching you, at this very moment he is being an excellent foot warmer here in chilly New Hampshire.
PS: We will be moving back down south at the end of the month to Georgia, much to the delight of many of our CACDR&R “family” members.











August, 2011.

Wordless Wednesday.

All I Really Need to Know I Learned from my Dog

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Take naps and stretch before rising.



Run, romp, and play daily.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.



If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.

Thrive on affection and let people touch you - enjoy back rubs and pats on your neck.

When you leave your yard, make it an adventure.



Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout - run right back and make friends.

Bond with your pack.

On cold nights, curl up in front of a crackling fire.



When you're excited, speak up.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Four years.

Four years ago we were living in South Carolina, a happy little family of 5. We had gone to a local shelter to apply for one of several pit bull puppies, wanting to raise one the right way, to have a loving, joyful terrier join our happy little clan. There were MANY people applying for the 5 pups available, while waiting we went around and had a looksie at the other animals available.

This is when I came to realize just how much of a softie my husband really is.

Outside in the back was a seemingly empty pen, however, if you looked hard enough you could see there was a dog inside the dog house. D went in to see if he could coax the dog out with a biscuit. With no attention from the dog at all, he crept closer, even reached in to pet him, only to realize there were two dogs. They were pressed to tightly together one couldn't tell where one started and the other ended, the only clue was that there were far too many feet. When he touched their little bodies the already stiff puppies stiffened even more. These were not your average 7 month old puppies.

They, and their 3 siblings, had been dubbed the "Africa Puppies" and all named after countries of the continent: Sudan, Kenya, Chad, Zambia, and one other that had been fostered immediately, Ruphus.

We went home discussing names for the pit puppy, rattling off random names and words to each other, mainly place names out west like Zion and Sutter. Nearly home on that 45 minute drive I shouted out "Colbert!", we looked at each other and knew we had a winner.

Despite not being selected for the pit pup, Zambia and his siblings had struck a chord with D. So began the campaign to let us foster one of them. After training seminars at the rescue we were permitted the chance to foster one, Zambia.

Four years ago today D brought home an 8 month old scared, stressed out, feral little fluff ball of a dog named Zambia. 5 months later this puppy, now called Colbert, would be adopted as my Valentine's present. <3

"Good Homes Need Not Apply". By Nathan J Winograd

Good Homes Need Not Apply By Nathan J. Winograd

A great read, if a bit lengthy. It explains some of the necessary and unnecessary hoopla behind adopting from a shelter or rescue. I personally want to thank any of my readers who have adopted, rescued, and made room in their homes and lives for their own pets in the past, kudos to you.

Enjoy.

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I’ve devoted the last [20] years of my life to reforming animal shelters in the United States (far longer doing rescue). I’ve worked at two shelters that have the highest rates of lifesaving in the nation: one as its Director of Operations and the other as the Executive Director. I’ve also worked and consulted with dozens of shelters nationwide. Currently, I run the national No Kill Advocacy Center, which is dedicated to ending the systematic killing of animals in shelters.

In my work to reform antiquated shelter practices, I often face traditional sheltering dogma that is a roadblock to lifesaving innovation. Too many shelters operate under false assumptions that cause animals to be killed. If shelter directors reevaluated, rather than hid behind conventional wisdom, they would more be more successful at saving lives.

One of the most enduring of these traditional dogmas is that animal shelters must kill because the public cannot be trusted with animals. I faced this attitude when I arrived as the new executive director of the Tompkins County SPCA in upstate New York. Other than prohibiting killing, I had planned to quietly observe the agency for the first couple of days on the job: I wanted a sense of how the agency was run. An elderly gentleman and his wife came in as I was standing behind the counter observing our adoption process. After looking at the animals for some time, they came to the front counter to adopt a cat. The man told the adoption counselor how he adopted a cat from us 15 years ago. “She died one year ago today,” he said. As much as they missed having a cat, he explained, he and his wife waited one year to get a new cat because they wanted to mourn her appropriately. As he told the story, he began to cry and walked away. His wife explained that her husband loved their cat very much, but they were indeed ready to love another one. Because they found a great cat here 15 years ago, they came back to us.

They filled out the application: Do they consider the adoption a lifetime commitment? Yes. Do they have a veterinarian? Yes. What happened to their other cat? Died of cancer. “In my arms,” the old man said. But one thing caught the adoption counselor’s eye. When they came to the question asking about where the cat would live, they had checked the box: “Mostly indoors, some outdoors.”

“Sorry,” the adoption counselor said. “We have a strict indoor-only rule.” She denied the adoption. They were stunned. I was stunned.

What happened to “15 years,” “in my arms,” “wanted to mourn her appropriately,” “lifetime commitment”? I overruled the counselor and gave them the cat. No fees, no more paperwork: “Let’s go get your kitty,” I said. I put her in their carrier and told them we’d see them in another 15 years. They thanked me and left.

I looked at the adoption counselor and told her: “We’ve got to take a more thoughtful approach to adoptions.”

She stared at me blankly.

“Ok,” I said, “Let me put it this way. Outdoor cats may face risks, but it largely depends on circumstances. We need to use common sense. This isn’t downtown Manhattan. This is a rural community. I only saw one car on my way to work this morning. In fact, given how safe it is, people should be required to let the cat go outside.” I smiled.

Nothing.

So I continued: “Outdoor cats may face risks, but so do indoor cats. They are just different ones and we don’t always see the causal connections, such as obesity and boredom. Fat and bored cats are at risk for diabetes, heart problems, and even behavior problems.” Still nothing. My then shelter manager stepped in and said that they were following the policies of the Humane Society of the United States. And HSUS says that people—and therefore shelter adoption policies—must keep cats indoors.

Over forty years ago, the late Phyllis Wright of HSUS, the matriarch of today’s killing paradigm, wrote in HSUS News,

I’ve put 70,000 dogs and cats to sleep… But I tell you one thing: I don’t worry about one of those animals that were put to sleep… Being dead is not cruelty to animals.

She then described how she does worry about the animals she found homes for. From that disturbing view, HSUS coined a maxim that says we should worry about saving lives but not about ending them and successfully propagated this viewpoint to shelters across the country. For many agencies, the HSUS standard is the gold standard. It is not uncommon for shelters to state they are “run in line with HSUS policies.” Consequently, it’s very easy to surrender an animal to a shelter and very hard to adopt one because of a distrust of the public. And after turning away adopters, these shelters often turn around and kill the same animals.

In reality, most people care deeply about animals and can be trusted with them. Evidence of this love of animals is all around us: we spend $48 billion a year on our companions, dog parks are filled with people, veterinary medicine is thriving, and books and movies about animals are all blockbusters because the stories touch people very deeply. Nonetheless, HSUS blames the public and because it has significant influence over shelter policies, promotes this view through shelter assessments, national conferences, and local advocacy. Consequently, it has failed to educate shelters to take more responsibility for the animals entrusted to their care. As a result, HSUS has impeded innovation and modernization in shelters. The result: unregulated, regressive shelters slavishly following the protocols of HSUS based on an idea that no one can be trusted. The employee at Tompkins County’s SPCA embodied this attitude. Such people are not really worried about the remote possibility that the adopted cat would one day get hit by a car and killed; they kill cats every day—obviously, killing is not the concern. Instead, staff at the Tompkins County SPCA at that time—like many shelters—can simply say they are operating “by the book,” even though that meant unnecessarily killing animals every year in the process. In other words, I came face to face with mindless bureaucracy.

I challenged the Tompkins County SPCA shelter manager on this score, asking her how it made sense to kill cats today in order to save them from possibly being killed at some time in the future. “HSUS says,” she responded, “that in order to increase the number of adoptions, we have to reduce the quality of homes”—we must, as a staff member of HSUS once later quipped, basically “adopt Pit Bulls to dog fighters.” And that, she stated, is something we should not do.

Tragically, this is a commonly held misperception in the culture of animal sheltering, but the facts prove otherwise. Increasing adoptions means offsite adoption events, public access hours, marketing and greater visibility in the community, working with rescue groups, competing with pet stores and puppy mills, adoption incentives, a good public image, and thoughtful but not bureaucratic screening. It has nothing to do with lowering quality. It has absolutely nothing to do with putting animals in harm’s way. Indeed, shelter killing is the leading cause of death for healthy dogs and cats in the United States. Adoptions take animals out of harm’s way.

Moreover, successful high-volume adoption shelters have proved that the idea that one must reduce quality of homes in order to increase quantity is merely the anachronism of old-guard, “catch and kill” shelters that must justify high kill rates and low adoptions. Quality and quantity are not, and have never been, mutually exclusive. As one progressive shelter noted:

The best adoption programs are designed to ensure that each animal is placed with a responsible person, one prepared to make a lifelong commitment, and to avoid the kinds of problems that may have caused the animal to be brought to the shelter.

I agree. I have long been a proponent of adoption screening because I, too, want animals to get good homes. But truth be told, in shelters where animals are being killed by the thousands, I’d rather they do “open adoptions” (little to no screening) because I trust the general public far more than those who run many animal control shelters—those who have become complacent about killing and willfully refuse to implement common-sense lifesaving alternatives. In fact, I recently assessed a municipal shelter with poor care and a high kill rate in one of the largest cities in the country. They practice open adoptions and volunteers have long clamored for adoption screening. My recommendation was as follows:

This is an area where volunteers have repeatedly suggested some form of screening to make sure animals are not just going into homes, but “good” homes. This suggestion has some appeal. And while it should ultimately be the agency’s goal, in the immediate cost-benefit analysis, I think it would be a mistake to do so at this time. While the shelter should ensure potential adopters do not have a history of cruelty, the shelter is not capable of thoughtful adoption screening and the end result will mean the needless loss of animal life.



At this point in the shelter’s history, the goal must be to get animals out of the shelter where they are continually under the threat of a death sentence. And given the problems with procedure implementation at the shelter, the process will become arbitrary depending on who is in charge of adoptions. There is simply too much at stake for the staff I observed to hold even more power over life and death.



In addition, several high-volume, high-kill shelters have realized that denying people for criteria other than cruelty, would lead them to get animals (likely unsterilized and unvaccinated) from other sources, with no information or guidance on proper care, which the shelter can still provide.



When the shelter has high quality staff, is consistent in applying sound policies and procedures, and has achieved a higher save rate—when shelter animals do not face certain death—it can revisit the issue of a more thoughtful screening to provide homes more suitable for particular shelter animals.

Unfortunately, too many shelters go too far with fixed, arbitrary rules—dictated by national organizations—that turn away good homes under the theory that people aren’t trustworthy, that few people are good enough, and that animals are better off dead. Unfortunately, rescue groups all-too-often share this mindset. But the motivations of rescue groups differ from those of the bureaucrat I ended up firing in Tompkins County. People who do rescue love animals, but they have been schooled by HSUS to be unreasonably—indeed, absurdly—suspicious of the public. Consequently, they make it difficult, if not downright impossible, to adopt their rescued animals.

I recently read the newsletter from a local cat rescue group. There was a story about two cats, Ruby and Alex, in their “happy endings” section. Under the title, “Good things come to those who wait,” the story explained that Ruby and Alex were in foster care for 7½ years before they found the “right” home. I wondered what was wrong with the cats. If it took seven years to find them a home, surely they must have had some serious impediments to adoption. But I couldn’t find anything in the story. Under another section in the newsletter listing the cats in their care that still needed to find “loving homes,” I found the answer.

The first one I looked at was Billy. Billy was a kitten when he was rescued in 2001. He is still in a “foster” home. Does it really take 8 years to find the “right” home? Surely, I thought again, something is wrong with this cat. But Billy is described as “easy going, playful, bouncy.” It goes on to say that “Billy loves attention and loves to be with his person. Mild-mannered and gentle with new people, he’s also a drop-and-roll kitty who will throw himself at your feet to be petted.” They also note that he likes dogs. In other words, Billy is perfect.

Clearly, the pertinent question wasn’t: “What’s wrong with the cats?” The real question was: “What’s wrong with these people?” Not surprisingly, the rescue group does not believe families with young children should adopt. They claim that if you have children who are under six years old, you should wait a few years. In reality, this rule is very common in animal sheltering. But it is a mistake nonetheless. Families with children are generally more stable, so they are a highly desirable adoption demographic. They also provide animals with plenty of stimulation, which the animals crave. Children and pets are a match made in heaven.

So if families with children shouldn’t adopt, who does that leave? Unfortunately, this group also states that kittens ‘require constant supervision like human babies do.’ My family frequently fosters kittens for our local shelter. When fostering, we live our lives like we always do: we visit friends, take walks, dine out. We often leave home for hours at a time. Obviously, I would have never done that with my kids when they were babies. That isn’t a statement on loving children more than animals. A kitten can sleep, eat, drink, use the litter box, play with a toy, and more at only six weeks of age. A human baby would starve to death surrounded by food if left alone at that age. Kittens are not “like human babies.” They are more advanced, skilled, smarter, and cleaner. But that’s not the point. The point is that the “constant supervision” rule eliminates potential adopters who go to work, too, but would otherwise provide excellent, loving, nurturing homes. That leaves the two minority extremes: unemployed people and millionaires—although my guess is the former would be ruled out, too.

Having eliminated the two most important adopter demographics (working people and families with children), is it any wonder that Billy—an easy going, playful, cuddly, gentle, drop-and-roll kitty—has been in foster care for eight years?

A Pennsylvania rescue group, operating in a community where animal control kills most animals entering that facility, should be working feverishly to adopt out as many animals as possible so they can open up space to pull more animals from the shelter. Instead, they put up ridiculous roadblocks stating that “Cohabitating couples who have not married need not apply to adopt our pets.” Apparently, people have tried because they follow up by noting on their website that you should not waste your time trying because “there are no exceptions.” This eliminates many committed couples and, for those who live in states without marriage equality, most gay people.

And a rescue group from Louisiana, a state with some of the highest killing rates in the nation, pummels you with 47 reasons not to adopt an animal on their application, including the warnings that animals will “damage your belongings, soil your furniture and/or flooring, scratch furniture, chew and tear up items, knock down breakable heirlooms, and/or dig up your yard.”

When I visited the humane society in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania a number of years ago, I was presented with a list of breeds considered not appropriate for homes with children under ten years old: Chihuahuas, Collies, Toy Breeds, and all small terriers.

Several years ago, this mentality really hit home—literally, my home. We decided to add another dog to our family. Having worked at two of the most successful shelters in the country, having performed rescue my whole adult life, having consulted with some of the largest and best known animal protection groups in the country, owning my own home, working from home, and allowing our dogs the run of the house, I thought adoption would be easy.

Adopting from our local shelter was not possible because we wanted a bigger dog which was against their rules because we had young children. Instead, we searched the online websites, and found a seven-year-old black Labrador Retriever with a rescue group about an hour south of us. I called about the dog and asked if we could meet him. They wanted to know if we had a “doggy door” leading to the backyard. We did not, but I told them happily—and naively—that I work from home and that we homeschool the kids, so the dog will be with us all the time. One of us will just let him out when he wants to go like we do for the resident dogs and then he can come back in. We have a fenced backyard. I housetrained every dog we ever had. No problem, I told them.

But that was not good enough. Apparently, the dog should be able to go in and out whenever he wants without having to ask. No doggy door, no adoption. “But,” I started to stammer: seven years old, larger black dog, sleep on the bed, with us all the time, fenced yard…. DENIED.

We then found another dog, a Lab-cross, with a different rescue group. About five years old, “a couch potato” according to the website. Perfect, I thought. I haven’t exercised since I was 18! I’ll take the dog for a walk around the block twice a day, but mostly will hang out, 24/7!

“We’d like to meet him,” I said when I called.

“There’s a $25 charge to be considered above and beyond the adoption fee,” they replied.

“No problem. If he likes our dogs, we’ll pay whatever it costs.”

“No,” I was told. “You have to pay the non-refundable fee before you can meet any dog and before we review your application.”

“What are your rules for adoption?” I said, not wanting to sink $25 if I was going to be denied because of the age of my kids, because I have brown eyes, or because I am balding.

“We can’t discuss that until after you pay the $25.”

Exasperated, I hung up.

We finally found a dog—a seven year old, lab-mix with a rescue group two hours from us by car. The fee was $250 to adopt, a pricey sum, but we were approved over the telephone because she was familiar with my work.

I could have given up. Lots of people do. When I tell people what I do for a living, that my work takes me all over the country trying to reform antiquated shelter practices, people constantly tell me how they tried to adopt from a shelter or rescue group, but were denied for entirely illogical reasons. One woman told me of her own failed attempt to adopt a dog and save a life. She owned an art gallery and wanted a dog who would come to work with her every day, just like her previous one who had recently died. The new dog would also have the run of both the house and office. She went to several shelters to adopt, but all of them denied her: she had really young kids and she wanted a large dog, and that was against the rules. She ended up at a breeder because she really wanted a dog, she said sheepishly, thinking I would judge her as having failed. “But I tried…” she trailed off. “The shelters failed you,” I replied.

Recently, HSUS launched a campaign to help shelters “educate the public” about adoption policies by creating a poster for shelters to hang in their lobbies. The poster features a chair beneath a light in a cement room. The tagline reads: “What’s with all the questions?” and it tells you not to take it personally. Rather than ask shelters to reexamine their own assumptions, HSUS produces a poster of what looks like an interrogation room at Abu Ghraib, instructing potential adopters to simply put up with it. In the process, adopters are turned away. Cats like Billy wait years for a home. And animals are needlessly killed: three million adoptable ones, while shelters peddle the fiction that there aren’t enough homes.

In fact, there are plenty of homes. The experience of successful No Kill communities proves it; No Kill communities now thrive across the United States. The data also proves it. Approximately three million dogs and cats that need a home are killed every year. Simultaneously, [of the 23 million people] looking to get a new dog or cat, [17 million] can be persuaded to adopt from a shelter. And, the number of people shelters turn away because of some arbitrary and bureaucratic process proves it. Like this experience shared with me a few years ago:

I tried to adopt from my local shelter… I found this scared, skinny cat hiding in the back of his cage and I filled out an application. I was turned down because I didn’t turn in the paperwork on time, which meant a half hour before closing, but I couldn’t get there from work in time to do that. I tried to leave work early the next day, but I called and found out they had already killed the poor cat. I will never go back.

Shelter animals already face formidable obstacles to getting out alive: customer service is often poor, a shelter’s location may be remote, adoption hours may be limited, policies may limit the number of days they are held, they can get sick in a shelter, and shelter directors often reject common-sense alternatives to killing. One-third to one-half of all dogs and roughly 60 percent of cats are killed because of these obstacles. Since the animals already face enormous problems, including the constant threat of execution, shelters and rescue groups shouldn’t add arbitrary roadblocks. When kind hearted people come to help, shelter bureaucrats shouldn’t start out with a presumption that they can’t be trusted.

In fact, most of the evidence suggests that the public can be trusted. While roughly eight million dogs and cats enter shelters every year, that is a small fraction compared to the 165 million thriving in people’s homes. Of those entering shelters, only four percent are seized because of cruelty and neglect. Some people surrender their animals because they are irresponsible, but others do so because they have nowhere else to turn—a person dies, they lose their job, their home is foreclosed. In theory, that is why shelters exist—to be a safety net for animals whose caretakers no longer can or want to care for them.

When people decide to adopt from a shelter—despite having more convenient options such as buying from a pet store or responding to a newspaper ad—they should be rewarded. We are a nation of animal lovers, and we should be treated with gratitude, not suspicion. More importantly, the animals facing death deserve the second chance that many well intentioned Americans are eager to give them, but in too many cases, are senselessly prevented from doing so.