All I hear is the deafening crescendo

He Said ~ 

What kind of abhorrent, depraved, merciless, sadistic scum allows dogs to suffer, while they promote their fraudulent “rescue” messaging?  

By the way, this is not a rhetorical question; instead it is a reprehensible one to have to ask.

Six months into the process of trying to find a quality canine adoption place to work with and find a pooch to love, I am done with these centers.

Before I proceed with this blog, I will issue a declaration – (and for the pathetically weak among us, it is not a threat, it is an oath) – to the vermin who run these establishments, I am coming for you! And, I promise my bite is far worse than my bark! 

I will inundate every social media presence you have with truthful statements regarding your complete lack of empathy and your indescribably cruel practices.

I will peacefully attend your “meet and greets” and stand outside with signage that includes facts about your inaccuracies.

I will post clear and precise accuracies about your endless failures to effectively remedy the horrific crisis man’s best friend is forced to deal with daily.

Shame on you – you worthless charlatans!!!

Here is an excerpt from one, of the incalculable reviews out there, concerning “rescue” places:

We adopted a puppy from a foster-based, 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. I have three small children and was told the dog was great with kids, other dogs, etc. We allowed the dog to decompress and weeks into having her she had consistent behavior of resource guarding, crate aggression, growling, and showing her teeth. I hired a trainer, and we did all we could to work with her. One afternoon, our dog bit my 8 year old son in the face, (a large laceration requiring 17 sutures was the result). I reached out to the place and filled out their surrender form. I never received a response. I worked vigorously for two weeks and by the grace of God found this dog a home, when my vet recommended a behavioral euthanasia. This has scared my family. If you are considering one of these places to find a dog, please make sure he or she has been fostered and the behavioral background is investigated. I feel if the dog had been fostered for any period of time, those behaviors would have been identified and it would have been determined that she should be placed in a home with no young children. This could have been prevented.

These filthy bastards, (and obviously, I am not referring to the canines in this scenario), know better. 

They are not helping dogs, they are monetizing their social media platforms and driving traffic to their websites, for profit.

I have experienced their deceit, firsthand.

While volunteering with organizations in the animal welfare or pet rescue industry, I questioned why all dogs were labeled as “healthy, good with dogs, and good with kids.” The inquiry was merely to discover where the information was coming from. The response from the supervisors – “all dogs are put in the system that way.”

WTF!!! Who can we hold accountable??? How is this legal???

If there are no laws on the books, preventing this kind of behavior and policy, by the P.O.S. who run these establishments – let us pass them immediately, if not sooner. And, after it is decreed, let us prosecute everyone who partakes in remaining ignorant BY CHOICE! Punish them to the full extent. Serve them their just desserts, in the form of being stuck in  a cage. 

And, when it is time for them to emerge from their prisons, say no, not yet. And if they must be set free, make sure they are paroled in a suitable manner, with proper restrictions. And, finally, remind them if these prohibitions are violated, the result will be permanent incarceration.

These “volunteer” organizations were supposed to give a voice to the speechless. Yet, all I hear is the deafening crescendo of the howling, of the forgotten ones.  

She Said ~ 

The combustible concoction made of anger, acidic silence, and petrified hope has been whisked and softly poured. The care taken has everything to do with exactitude and less to do with damaging the marble countertop.

The sweet daydreams spilled across the kitchen floor are sticky and perfectly collect the lint from the bottom of my socks. The stained t-shirt I wear tells not only the story of today, yesterday’s too, and the day before that as well.

The jagged, uneven nails on my left and my right hand rip single strands of hair from my head, and they float like dust bunnies in the sunlight.

The reality is that all of this and none of this feels foreign to me. The unexpected departure of my dog Luca, from my life left a myriad of unquantifiable sink holes in my heart. It has taken courage, effort, failure, hope, research, time and more, much more, to dream again. 

I did it anyway.

Countless pleading eyes stared back at me with a resume of endearing qualifications. I memorized their names, often checked in on them, and finally found my match.

Funny thing, it was not a boy my heart gravitated toward. Instead, my heart melted at the site of her perplexed and worried expression. Instantly, I knew I wanted to create a better life for her and ensure she never had to worry again.

April 25th was going to be a magical day. I was bringing home not a dog, not an added expense, not another eventual heartbreak. I was bringing home a friend to care for, nurture, protect, and usher into a better life. With this in mind, I considered her three day journey from Texas to New Jersey, and her life in Texas.

Was my new friend currently in a foster home? Once in NJ, would she be given the time to decompress from the long trip? Could I video chat with the foster and learn more about her? I was surprised to hear the answer to most of my questions was no.

Yes, she was in a foster home now. No, I could not speak to the foster and no, there would be no decompression period in NJ. Instead, I would meet her in a parking lot, on the morning of her arrival, along with other eager adopters. Instead, I would spend time with her and if she was a match, take her home that very day.

What about her? Three days on the road with other dogs, a parking lot filled with strangers, and possibly, another two hour car ride, and into a new home. No last medical check or bath before handing her off to me.

I questioned whether this was the best approach to adopting her. I expressed my concerns, made suggestions to assuage my uneasiness, and provide her with a smoother transition and was again told no.

I was given until 7:00 pm to decide if I still wanted to meet her and after careful consideration, I called and texted back, “yes.” To my complete dismay, I was told that it had been decided she was no longer a fit for me and I would be better suited for a dog already fostered in New Jersey. I protested to no avail. My girl was no longer mine. 

While not illegal, it is unconscionable to allow a frightened and tired dog to go straight into the arms of an adopter. There are communicable diseases, bathroom accidents, and fear based behaviors that can manifest after transport, even if not present during fostering.

The truth is many of these dogs have a traumatic past and have over time learned to trust their fosters. At minimum, they deserve the opportunity to calmly ease into a new home.

I have lost something during this experience, HOPE, and I do not know when I will have a dog again. 

Did You Know? In 1924, Hachiko, (an Akita dog in Japan), was adopted by Dr. Hidesaburo Ueno, a professor at Tokyo University. Every morning, Hachiko accompanied Ueno to Shibuya Station and returned in the afternoon to greet him. Despite his owner’s passing, Hachiko returned to Shibuya Station every single day for the next nine years, nine months, and fifteen days to wait for him, often facing mistreatment from commuters. Hachiko died on March 8, 1935, near the station and was later buried alongside Professor Ueno, in Aoyama Cemetery.