A to Z of #Dog Rescue: FAQ No. 2 — #atozchallenge

(Missed Part I?)

Why are there so many more women than men involved in rescuing?
Like most preconceived notions about rescue, this one's part myth and part truth. As you've seen from the videos I've posted, plenty of men are involved in rescue—and they're darn good at it. But—and this is a fact—many dogs respond better to women strangers than men strangers. Maybe it's the voice (higher pitch vs. lower). Maybe it's the perceived dominance of a male scent. Maybe it's hormones. I don't know.


Why are stray dogs so often in such bad health? Are they predisposed to some illnesses? 

No. Ferals, especially, tend to be stronger and better equipped to fight off disease. (It’s natural selection at work; only the stronger genes survive.) 

Why, then, are so many homeless dogs rescued in such terrible states? Three reasons:

1. They’re exposed to more
2. They don’t get any preventive care
3. Their diet is anything but balanced, which causes deficiencies in their immune system

How do you get a dog to take pills?

Easy: irresistible chunky food. Liverwurst, a slice of sausage, canned dog food (the chunky kind), squares of cheese... You get the idea. The chunk needs to be small enough to be gulped down—but large enough to fit the pill. (Chewing will increase the chance of the pill being "discovered", and spit out.)

Also, dogs will wise up after a while. Some will eat the pill anyway, just to make you happy (dogs they're loyal like that), but most won't. Especially if the medication makes them feel weird—like tranquilizers. We fostered a dog who was so afraid of humans we had to give her sleeping pills for trips to the vet (which were, due to her many illnesses, all too frequent). I used liverwurst to hide the pills. After the third time, she wouldn't touch liverwurst at all, pills or no. Lesson: vary the goodies. And don't offer goodies only for pills.

I tried to adopt from a rescue organization but the whole process took weeks, and was totally bureaucratic. Why all the questions? Why all the hassle? 

Remember when we said this was About The Dog? That means it's Not About You. Rescue organizations—and, increasingly, shelters as well—focus on the dog's needs and do their best to find them not just a home but a family. People who will care for and love him/her for as long as the dog lives.

Some of the concerns when matching a dog to a home:

• Does the home have space enough to accommodate the dog's needs?
• Is the home and/or yard fenced in properly? (Remember, most long-time strays and ferals have a Houdini gene.)
• Does the dog's primary caregiver have enough time to meet the dog's exercise needs?
• If there are other pets in the home, will they accept the newcomer? Does the family have enough experience—or is willing to get help—to deal with the introduction and adjustment period?
• If there are children in the home, or children frequently visit the home, is the dog a suitable match for them? What ages are they? Are their parents experienced dog owners who will provide guidance and supervise interaction?
• If the dog hasn't been spayed/neutered yet (the case of puppies, for instance), can the family guarantee s/he will be sterilized as soon as the surgery is viable?
• Can the family afford proper medical care for the dog?
• What is the likelihood that the family will make a major move (say, overseas) in the near future? And, in the event of such a move, are they prepared to bring the dog along?

None of these things can be determined through an application form or a fifteen-minute chat. It takes time (and at least one home visit) to get a picture of the life a dog will have with them. Not every family, or every environment, is suited to every dog. And a dog that's already been through so much deserves every advantage we can give them.

This article has a great breakdown of the whole screening process. And this video, from the Humane Society of Greater Dayton, gives a summary of theirs.

Why do shelters charge an adoption fee? I mean, if it's a homeless dog and I'm taking it off their hands, shouldn't it be (at least) free?
Seriously? If this is the way you think, you shouldn't own a dog. Any dog.

(Fine. I'll play nice.)

Shelters aren't running a business. They're not turning a profit, or distributing dividends to their shareholders. In fact, adoption fees are so low they barely cover the basic medical expenses (vaccines, monthly anti-tick and -flea prevention tablets, sterilization)—and they certainly don't even make a dent in the enormous amount of resources—money, time, effort—the shelter/rescue has put into this particular dog. No, the main reason for an adoption fee is to make sure you're serious about adopting. In this currency-oriented world we live in, there's a neuron somewhere that fires a message whenever we have to pay for something, saying, This here is worth it. Because you paid for it. (And, also, if you can't afford the $75-$150 average adoption fee, you certainly can't afford the much steeper, and long-term, medical care the dog will need. So there. Go home. Without a dog.)

Which brings me, rather pointedly, to the next question...


Why are rescuers so unfriendly? Intolerant? RUDE?
We're not, actually. Not to animals, anyway :) I wouldn't appreciate someone else putting words in my mouth, so I'll speak for myself and myself only here. Have you ever noticed how a shelter's or rescue's PR person is rarely, if ever, involved in the actual rescuing? Nothing strange about it; you wouldn't ask a hospital's accountant to go fill in at the ER—and I'd love the spectacle of a surgeon trying to balance the accounts. Everyone has their job, everyone has their passion... And, for a rescuer, it's—you guessed it—ABOUT THE DOG. So, when I witness human cruelty and neglect (as in actually see it happening) every day, it's probably not difficult to understand that humanity doesn't score high in my book. And, when I see people around me, people whom I've had serious conversations with about the evils of breeding, go and buy a Rottweiler puppy (OMG, the parents won a competition in Wherevershire last year), it shouldn't be hard to understand why I'd rather choke them than say hello to them.

In short: I'm not a people person. I'm a dog person. And an animal person. (And yes, I realize I'm rude and obnoxious to non-animal persons. And I'm sorry for it. Sort of.)


Why do dogs reject other dogs? (from Jeffrey Scott)
You'd think a dog would be glad to have a same-species companion, wouldn't you? And well-socialized dogs (i.e., dogs who've interacted with different dogs from early in their lives) often will be welcoming. But dogs are, after all, pack animals. The instinct is to defend the existing pack—so the challenge is to make the new dog a member of the pack as quickly as possible.

This article, both on the whys of rejection and with advice for introducing a new dog, explains it better than I ever could.

Carrie-Ann (of Welcome to My Magick Theater and Onomastics Outside the Box) asked for my opinion on 

"hobby breeders, people who only breed a small number of litters a year and carefully screen adoptive families, as opposed to the mass-breeders at animal mills."

For me, this is a case of choosing the lesser evil. Small, caring breeders are certainly better than puppy mills that keep dogs in unspeakable conditions—but they're still evil. Well, not evil, but... you know. Not good.

Why? Let me explain.

First, the whole breed thing smacks of racism to me. Would you choose your friends based on their skin color, their place of birth, who their parents are? (If you would, then you're at the wrong blog.) Are these things relevant to this person's character? Maybe. But having a Mexican best friend in fifth grade doesn't mean you'll even like other Mexicans. And if your "Mexican" friend turns out to be 50% Peruvian, does that automatically make her more—or less—likeable?

Second, breeding is a hard, hard thing to do responsibly. The mother's health needs careful monitoring; she can only give birth limited times (not once a year), and only after she's 2 years old. She can't be force-bred in any way. And any breeding with which humans interfere becomes an anti-natural-selection process, which perpetuates faulty genes (witness, for one example, the German Shepherd propensity for hip dysplasia).

Third, the reason we have homeless dogs to begin with is because there are too many dogs. And not enough homes. So, until a good, healthy chunk of the world's homeless animals get a home, I can't condone any breeding at all.

I realize the large majority of the world doesn't feel this way. All I can say is, if you absolutely cannot live without a pedigreed whatever-breed in your home, please—please—look at shelters and rescue organizations before going to a breeder. Any breeder. A full quarter of the dogs in shelters are purebreds. There are even rescue organizations devoted to specific breeds (the American Kennel Club publishes a list every November).

Please consider giving a home to a dog who's already here, instead of encouraging yet another litter of puppies to come into the world.

WARNING: HAPPY ENDING

(GET KLEENEX)

Thank you all for your visits, for your wonderful comments, and for the questions you've asked. I hope I gave you the answer you were looking for, but if I missed anything please let me know; I'll be sure to add it to a post soon :) Sorry this is so late, and so lengthy... Yes, the two are related :) But tomorrow's is a short one (phew!). Off to catch up with your P and Q posts before the day is out!

P.S. — Some of you have shared bits of dog and rescue stories, all of which I've loved. If you'd like to write a guest post about any of them, I'd be honored to host you. Email me at guilie (dot) quietlaughter (at) gmail (dot) com if you're interested. (Yes, it can be after April ;) )