Returns

[Alberta Hanko]

I was looking at the shelter website where I adopted Linus, and have been noticing how many dogs are adopted and returned. Out of 52, 17 were adopted out and returned, most for behavioral issues. Included in these problems were resource guarding, not good with other dogs, not good with kids under 18, 12 or so, needs obedience training, high energy, escaping, fearful, and separation anxiety. A continued theme all through was the dog needs training.

I can’t fault the shelter, they are quite honest about the dogs, and are very supportive in trying to help people who run into problems. Most of these shelters are understaffed and under funded and are run by dedicated people who are trying very hard to save these animals from being euthanized or spending a lifetime in a cage. Many times the dogs are adopted and returned within a few weeks, barely giving them a chance to settle in. When I adopted Linus six and a half years ago they were saying it takes a week or so for a dog to settle into its new home. Now I am hearing it is more like a couple of months. The first couple of months are often called the “honeymoon” period, the dog is nervous, not knowing its place in the family, and careful.

Since we on this site all love dogs I am wondering what suggestions you would offer when people first adopt a puppy or a young to mature dog, and what you have done with your own pet to help it become a loving family member.

Alberta & Linus

[De Clark]

All I can offer is do not have big expatiations(?)!But do have... Lots of love, patience and understanding.

[TimberWolf]

When I worked in a no kill shelter, the returns were common. Sadly the one returned the most often was one dog that kept getting pregnant. THAT'S not a behavioral problem, but an irresponcible owner problem. She was returned about 3 times. She was the sweetest dog too. Anyhoo, there'd be toehr returns, some dogs obviously abused since their adoptions that were once fearless and confident dogs, while others remained the same with the issues you stated above; hyper, anxious, fearful, escape artists, not house broken, among other reasons. Of course I felt the worse for those that were once sweeties and returned as damaged goods, because the new owners didn't understand them and their doggy ways. Sparky was one of those that was adopted as a young puppy and returned a fearful, snippy dog no longer adoptable by a young family with kids and other dogs.

So when a customer would show interest in a dog that has some emotional, mental, or fearful problems, I'd not only let them know what may become an issue, but what they can do to help their new possible furfriend get past some of their troubles and become a better housemate for them. The main thing was to get them trained and be very patient. Some problems stem from past abuses and being aggressive towards them will only make the situations worse. They need to be firm, but approachable as a new owner and trusted friend to these dogs. Some dogs will be extremely open to a new family, while others will have some concerns and hesitations when living with a new family. For example, when trying to adopt out an known escape artist, I would let them know they cannot be outside unsupervised. They need lot's of praise, patience and attention so they know they are not going to be returned at any time. Some of the escape artists are that way because they think they still belong to their original family, while others don't realize they are at their new homes and belong there. The fearful ones are often shy because they were either not properly socialized or possibly abused and have taken a more submissive role in the hierarchy between humans and dogs. the fear aggressive ones take on the more fight role of the flight or fight reaction but are still fearful and they, just like the more shy ones need to learn a better reaction to something that frightens them. Then there are the full on aggressive ones that are just defending themselves or their property because they believe that is their role and place in the home. Some of them react that way because they have been abused or improperly socialized/trained, and they feel that is the only way to keep their territory, things, themselves, and the people they love safe.

So with all that in mind, they need the proper training and owner in order to make the relationship work. If a customer who is soft spoken and or has never owned a dog before is interested in a fearful and or aggressive dog, I would steer them away from that dog with the explanation of how difficult it would be to acclimate that dog to their home. it may be discriminating, but I honestly would be just working with the dog's best interest. You cannot possibly feel confident a new owner and or soft spoken person will be able to easily handle a dog with some heavy baggage, not if it means you are aware that the dog might bite, be unable to be easily handled around friends or family or kids, or may even be too big and out of control depending on who is interested in the dog. In some cases, I'd be ok with a shy dog if that shy dog is not aggressive. I'd still highly recommend socializing and obedience classes to try to get some confidence and good doggy manners into the dog before any aggressive behaviors start appearing. So a lot of choosing the right dog for the right person also is about choosing the right owner for the new dog.

There was a dog with possible distemper who had some obvious mental issues and was having seizures. The dog was a good dog, but hard to handle and not very trainable. This dog is not one that had high hopes of being adopted, but we'd all try. One young couple came in and saw this dog and wanted to see him. They seemed to be true dog lovers that had the motivation to learn and be good responsible dog owners, so I talked to them about this dog's health issues and what they'd be in for. They both still wanted to see him out of the cage. No problem! I let him out and they fell in love! They were fully aware of how hard it would be to care for a dog with those health and mental conditions. Well, they adopted that dog (I believe his name was Rocky) and never returned him. I believe what helped was giving all information and what to expect. Also the vet on call talked to them as well as a trainer. The more information they have, the more it helps. The hopes is the person who adopts a dog with health problems and behavioral problems will adopt that dog with the full intention to work with that dog and keep them happy despite some problems that may occur.

[Alberta Hanko]

Something I wasn't thinking about, but that you said, TimberWolf, screen the potential furparents. Of course they are screened, but many times not as thoroughly as you did. You are right, there are certain dogs that will not do well with certain people, and it is far better to check that out before the dog is adopted.When I adopted Linus, we spent 4 hours at the shelter while we were checked out, but it was mostly calling people who knew us and our previous vet, and Linus was young, so didn't appear to have many issues (ah what little I knew back then ;)). We knew he needed to be housetrained but he was out of his cage and into my heart at that point so it didn't seem insurmountable, but I didn't spot the fact that he was anxious.

My favorite part is you last paragraph, what lovely people, taking on a dog with problems, and providing him with a loving home--and no looking back.

Alberta & Linus

[muttsrbest]

I think anyone thinking of adopting a pet should read this first. I found this on a rescue site in phoenix, az. It is very touching, make sure you have tissues handy!

How Could You?

When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.

My housetraining took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed, listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams. Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

The End
Jim Willis, 2001

[Alberta Hanko]

I have read this one before and it never fails to make me cry. Thank you so much for posting this reminder Michelle.

Alberta & Linus