For the Love of Dog

As I mention in the “About Mimi” page, I am an animal rescuer. I will rant about all the irresponsible dog and cat owners who help fill our shelters later. For now I am going to tell you about my recent experience adopting the greatest dog in the world, Skye. Unfortunately, this story highlights some of the problems in our shelters.

I had put a shout out to the Universe that I was ready to open my home to another dog. Of course, forget about the Universe- -if you put a shout out to other rescuers that you are ready to open your home to another dog, prepare to have you email/phone inundated.

A week or so later I get a link from a friend about a dog in a high kill shelter. She is listed as being 4 years old. That is a little older than I was hoping for but, hey, I hope I am not ever considered too old to be useful. So, I call the shelter and am told she weighs about 50#. A little heavier than I am hoping for since I have been feeling puny of late. Something tells me to go check her out.

I am told she is available for adoption and I can take her home today as long as I bring my utility bill. I guess this high kill shelter doesn’t want a dog to get out of there alive only to sit in a home with no lights on. Makes perfect sense to me. After all, they would prefer to permanently put her lights out.

When I ask additional questions about her, the young man on the other end of the line tells me he is way too busy to answer any questions. Sure. In other words, you don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground about this dog because you don’t care to.

I rally the troops and we drive the 1 1/2 hours to meet her. After being asked another 10 times if I had my utility bill, a woman with a Texas sized coif (specifically small town Texas) and wearing more lipstick than a madam, begrudgingly leads us to death row. You can tell we are really wasting her time.

We get our first glimpse of Skye (formerly known as DOG – ID#A015191)

Nice mug shot, huh?

What a precious soul. We lead her to a small fenced area where Officer Bouffant stands guard at the gate. She is running some tight security. After all, this dog is so valuable to them that if we stole her, they would miss out on $25 and a glimpse at my monthly electrical usage.

After five minutes of watching Skye pee everywhere, Officer Bouffant says our visit is up. Great. I have no idea if this dog will be happy with us or if she will bite Cooper’s nose off despite his face.

Well, one thing I do know is she is gonna get out of there alive. One of the down falls of being an animal rescuer is that you feel responsible for each and every dog you meet in a shelter. Even if you don’t “spring” a dog from a shelter, you have their soulful eyes forever etched in your memory. I can’t stop thinking about a dog I’ve met until I know s/he is safe.

No surprise here, but as we are escorted back to the drab “adoption” desk, I am told she has to be held until Tuesday. No one bothered to actually check her status when they told me over the phone that I could adopt her that day. After all, that would take more effort than injecting her with death.

Seriously, I feel for these people. They are all miserable people. I understand being desensitized to a degree, but these people are apathetic. And pathetic. This is what happens when a municipal shelter requires Police Officers to pretend to be animal advocates.

For 48 hours I am consumed with a homemade blend of heart wrenching fear that she will be accidentally euthanized combined with childlike anticipation of bringing home my new daughter.