To Rescue Near or Far, That is the Question

A week or so ago, an acquaintance posted the following message on Facebook:

Trying to understand why we have so many wonderful local animal rescue groups that go out of state to save animals when there are SO MANY animals right here that need help AND HOMES. I don't get it.

Her post got me thinking. It was a sincere, heartfelt comment, and one I’ve thought about many times.

For the past 10 years, I’ve volunteered with a county-based animal welfare organization in Maryland. We don’t operate a shelter; rather, we rescue animals from our county shelter and provide them a safe harbor in one of our foster homes until they find their forever families. We are committed to this effort because each year as many as 10,000 animals are euthanized at that shelter.

So when Hurricane Katrina devastated the American Southeast and rescue organizations across the United States opened their doors to thousands of animal victims, we made the decision not to do so. Our reason: For each Katrina dog or cat we took into our small foster program, another dog or cat languishing in our county shelter would remain behind bars…right in our own backyard but out of sight and out of mind.

I also work for another animal welfare organization in the nation’s capital. We take animals from several other local shelters that frequently run out of space, as well as a couple of rescue groups in other states. Occasionally, we are asked by national organizations like the ASPCA or the Humane Society of the United States to take animals they’ve rescued from puppy mills and hoarding situations or that have been made homeless by natural disasters. Most recently, we took in several dogs and cats whose homes were destroyed or made unlivable by Superstorm Sandy. Not knowing if or when they could care for their pets again, their people made the difficult and selfless decision to give their pets a new life by turning them over to the ASPCA.

As soon as the story of these animals’ arrival at our shelter hit the news, people were calling and emailing to ask when they’d be available for adoption…even though they’d never visited—or inquired about—the many other wonderful dogs and cats we have just waiting to go home.

The sad reality is that animals rescued from puppy mills, hoarding situations, or natural disasters generate more public attention than those picked up as strays or dumped like trash on an almost daily basis at local shelters in almost every county or municipality in every state in the nation. Their stories are “sexier” and generate lots of media attention, leading to high demand by potential adopters. In my uncharitable moments, I wonder if people like being able to tell their friends and family that they rescued a “Katrina” cat or a puppy mill survivor.

The fact is that there are no easy decisions when it comes to animal rescue because there are more homeless animals than people who want to give them homes. Fortunately, there are myriad shelters, rescue groups, and animal welfare organizations with almost as many missions and niches to fill. Collectively, we can—and do—make a difference.

And for me, at least, the bottom line is that an animal rescued is an animal rescued, no matter where that animal came from.

Not for the Faint of Heart

I work for an amazing animal welfare organization that operates an outstanding shelter and a state-of-the-art medical center. We are not contracted by a municipality, which means we aren't required by law to take in every stray off the street. Instead, in addition to assisting national organizations like the ASPCA and HSUS by taking in animals from hoarding situations, puppy mills, and natural disasters, we have the "luxury" of rescuing animals from neighboring "open" shelters that sadly run out of space for the never-ending population of homeless dogs and cats.

While we often take in dogs and cats with serious medical conditions and provide them with treatment that other shelters cannot, we regretfully but consciously pass over those whose temperaments make them, upon initial assessment, unadoptable or even downright dangerous. Our goal is to place as many homeless animals as possible...and for every animal who passes through our doors to find a loving forever home.

And that's what almost always happens. "Almost" always.

Every once in a while, animals--usually dogs--turn out to have "issues" that, despite considerable efforts by trained behavioral staff and volunteers, make them "unadoptable." The stories vary...from a starved, emaciated giant breed dog, who because of weakness and ill health initially seems sweet and submissive but after a regular diet and good medical care becomes dangerously aggressive, to a young stray who goes from smart, dominant, high-energy pup to smart, dominant, high-energy adult who despite daily exercise and interaction with staff and volunteers develops more and more inappropriate and risky behaviors as shelter life wears away at her psychological core. But the result is the same.

Believing that quality of life is of paramount importance, a committee including  the shelter director and representatives of the adoptions, behavioral, and medical staff meets regularly to discuss our animals. If this caring and committed group of people--who know the animals well--decide that an animal is unsafe to place in a home and that continued life in the shelter would in itself be a form of cruelty, they make the incredibly difficult decision to humanely euthanize that animal. This decision is never, ever, made lightly. But it is always made with the animal's well being as the compass point and the sincere belief that as blogger Jessica Dolce wrote, "there are worse things than humane euthanasia."


I have come to know--and have photographed--animals that ended up being euthanized. Although I understand--and usually agree with--the decisions, I still feel a profound sense of grief at each animal's passing because I so want each and every shelter resident to get that second chance...to find their happily ever after. Sadly, unlike in fairy tales, such happy endings aren't universal.

The faces of these animals still haunt me, sometimes when I dream, sometimes at odd moments like when I'm driving down the highway...and I suspect they always will. I am often tempted to delete their images from my hard drive because they are painful to look at it. But that would do these animals a disservice. And, in a way, they are reminders of the enormity of the challenges facing us every day.

The world of animal rescue is not for the faint of heart. But it is a world worth living in--and being strong for--at least for me.