Battle On

Being in the kennel business has allowed me to meet more dogs on a day to day level than I would have ever met otherwise.  Watching a group of dogs run around a ring or even trial on a schutzhund field doesn’t let you get to know the dogs in the way feeding, walking and caring for them does.

Many of the dogs we board are second hand dogs; adopted from rescue groups, animal shelters or from friends or relatives who have given up on them.  What puzzles me the most though is that the vast majority of these dogs aren’t difficult animals.  Some are a bit shy and others might be a bit active, but hardly any are in the “can’t live with them” category.  Maybe they act vastly different when they are at home, but I don’t think so.  We see the same dogs year in and year out for weeks at a time.  I’m pretty sure they haven’t been on their best behavior all this time.

So, why are these dogs thrown away?  Tye is an enormous white dog.  The owner says the shelter told her he was a St. Bernard.  I think he’s a Great Pyrenees.  Regardless, he is a doll of a giant.  He lives with a chihuahua and watching Tye’s kindness to the bothersome midget is pretty amazing.  Tye doesn’t steal the little guy’s food, hog the blanket or dominate him in any way.  So why was he surrendered to the shelter?

Candy is a spaniel mix.  She’s gentle beyond belief, clean as could be and quiet.  Why was she at the pound?  Harmony is another mix – probably Australian Shepherd and something.  She is timid around men but never aggressive.  She does try to escape pens though.  Was that why she ended up in rescue?

We are Rex’s seventh home.  And yes, Rex is a barker.  But he is clear headed, loving, dependable and sweet. Why was Rex rejected from six other homes?

I think the accusation of irresponsible breeding has merit, but I think another part of the problem is that most homes aren’t willing to work with a dog that doesn’t seamlessly meld into their lives.  A dog that requires work, even if just a bit, is too much for them.

So, considering that most dogs require some degree of management and some dogs require a great degree, is it any wonder that shelters and rescue groups are overflowing?   Frankly, as busy as most families are, I think many of them do not need a dog at all.   Maybe a fish?

(Overheard on a plane)

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Passenger 1: So my brother made some good money breeding his dog.
Passenger 2: Oh yeah?

Passenger 1: Yeah, he’s got a certified min pin and he bred her and got like five or six puppies. He sold the puppies for like five or six hundred dollars a piece. But he had to pay the stud dog guy money but he still made a lot of money.

Passenger 2: That’s good money!

Passenger 1: Yeah, but his dog is certified so he had to make sure the stud was certified too. That way he can certify the puppies. If you can’t certify the puppies, you can’t sell them for that much. He told me that’s the important thing.

Passenger 2: Oh, OK.

Passenger 1: He only did it two times. He didn’t want anybody thinking he was a puppy mill or anything.

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(sigh)

Thanks to Patrick Burns for the article, From Rosettes to Ruins, which deals with another consequence of irresponsible breeding and from which this title is derived.
I find myself in a familiar place today. Soo and I call it, “rescue mode.”The sameness of the stories makes the people take on a weird quality of anonymity in my mind. But the dogs are vivid. Their stories haunt long after I’ve forgotten their owners’ names. I’m trying to stay positive here but find it tough going.There must have been a full moon recently, because I am getting a lot of calls from people wanting help placing their dogs. Those “if you don’t do something now, I’m going to put the dog down” type of calls. I call them “hostage calls”.
Without excusing the owners, it is days like this that fuel my frustration over “producers.” Not breeders, but producers. Because most of these placement calls are a result of incorrect temperament or incorrect placement. But they all result from the producers’ refusal to acknowledge and take responsibility for their actions.
Anyway.
Soo said in her post, Starting Defense Training Too Early, “Much like building up a callus, good training can expose a bit of weakness then build a layer of confidence over that weakness.” This goes back to what I said about good training verses a good dog. Regardless of how many titles you and your dog accrue, please be honest with yourself when it comes to realistically assessing your dog.
We have some excellent trainers in the world of dog sports who have the ability to take a less than breed worthy prospect and turn out some outstanding performances on the competition field. The only person who knows the true nature of the dog is the trainer.If, during the course of your training, you find yourself exposing more than your fair share of the weaknesses that Soo referred to in her post; and, you find yourself constantly having to build confidence to get over those challenges, by all means, title the dog and be proud of your accomplishments. But be honest with yourself, for the sake of the breed. Carefully consider what you have had to do to achieve those titles before you deem your dog “worthy of being bred”.
Remember, the owner of your dog’s pups, might not be as willing or as talented a trainer.

I’m told there are countries where there are no unwanted dogs. I’d like to move there.

Lately, it seems we are bombarded by people wanting to get rid of their dogs. From the woman who dropped off Buddy the Australian cattle dog to the owners of Dixie the Catahoula, all around us are moans of, “we have to get rid of this dog.”

Gregg and I fully understand that there are times when a dog needs a new home. But the fact is, the dog is your responsibility UNTIL you find it a great, new home. Dumping the dog off at the animal shelter, your nearest boarding kennel, or a country road far from your home (Spike) is not an option.

Elsa is the latest innocent casualty. Elsa needs a new home. One that will appreciate her loving nature, energetic desire to please, liquid brown eyes and red gold coat that glints in the sun.

And it’s very difficult.  Because every time I think I’ve conquered, I remember Spike’s little face.You remember Spike.  Of course, I don’t know if that’s what you called him.  But he was instantly Spike to me.Picture this:  Running late to work.  I see a little red Min Pin.  Obviously lost.  Can’t stop.  No time.  But if I don’t stop, the stray dogs will get him.  Or the Coyotes.  Here pup, pup.  He cautiously approaches.  Wags his stub of a tail and lets me pick him up.  Instantly he is Spike.  Both for his attitude and his shiny black spiked collar.  Why dump him with a brand new collar?I drive from house to house.  No, no one has seen him before.  Yes, he was dumped.  Spike, what do I do with you?I have to take him to the animal shelter.  I can’t take him home.  We’re already exhausted with our kennel full of dogs (half of them rescues themselves.)I call work.  Yes, I’m late. Yes, I’m coming, just hold on.  Agitated, upset and tired, I drive too fast and stop too quickly.  Thump!  Spike falls off the seat.  Oh No!  He wags his stump and forgives me.  Then he climbs back up on the seat and continues whimpering and scratching at his flea covered little body.  I shudder and think about the fleas he is shedding and then feel ashamed that I’m even bothered.  Oh Spike.They promise me he will be OK.  He is cute, young, small and a “pure bred.”  He’ll be claimed by his owner, new owner or breed rescue.  I make them promise over and over.  I hug Spike and hand him over to the nice girl.  I can’t look at him.  He might be looking back.  I won’t cry.  I can’t cry.  Because I can’t rescue them all.I called today.  No he wasn’t claimed over the weekend.  Dumped!  I knew it.  I’m still struggling not to hate you.  How could you?  Do you know he could have been eaten by coyotes?  Do you care that he could have been hit by a car and died a slow death.  Do you think about his misery at scratching nonstop at the fleas.  The nice boy promises me over and over that he will be claimed.  He tells me I can call and call again.God tells me I’m suppose to love you.  I know I’m suppose to love you.  It’s hard.