“Adoption was their only option”
~ as told to Mary Gehl ~
So many times we hear people say they can’t or won’t choose "adoption" when they are looking for a pet because the animals in shelters and rescues are "bad" or "damaged" and they "don’t want someone else’s problems".
Those of us in the animal welfare world and those that have adopted know that the “bad animal” concept is a myth and just not true. The truth is that the majority of homeless animals are in shelters and rescues due to human issues; divorce, new babies, unexpected moves, financial crisis, illness or death.
Another unknown truth - 25% of all homeless animals in facilities are purebreds!
So, how do we dispel the myth of “bad animals” for potential adopters? Hopefully, the stories shared below will chase the fears away. After all, these are the once “Faces of Homeless” and adoption was their only option!
Buster…by Charlotte S.
September 20th, our anniversary. Buster and I have now been together three years. We were introduced to each other by a mutual friend. Buster was alone and so was I. My husband passed away awhile back and the children are all gone and living their own lives. We hit it off right from the start. We enjoy so much of the same things: one dish meals, long walks, and quiet evenings in front of the TV. Since we are about the same age we are quite compatible. He is so easy to talk to and he is a wonderful listener. Recently I’ve had some medical problems. Understand, I have a wonderful family…I receive calls, cards and flowers; but Buster, he was THERE. Driving with me to the doctor’s office, then off to the supermarket. He is the one I share first morning light with and he is the last to bid me goodnight. I think of Buster as my "immediate family". Buster is my best friend. Buster is my shelter dog.
Raven & Ivy…by Carrie S.
Photo by Daria Mochan
I met Raven in 2003 when I was a volunteer at the local shelter. I knew the first time I looked into her eyes, that she was special and I would take her out to events around town looking for the right home for her. She would sit close to me and lean into my leg, gazing up at me. People would come by and say “oh is that your dog?” I’d reply, “Oh no, she is available for adoption.” They all just laughed and said, “Does she know that?” Raven would just sit there and gaze lovingly at me. One day, we were riding in the car together and I looked at her, so happy and proud to be going out anywhere with me, even if it was to show her off at an adoption event. That was the moment that I knew what she had known from the first day we met. She WAS my dog. At the time I was living in an apartment that did not allow dogs, but had just closed on a house. My landlord allowed Raven to be a “guest” with me in the apartment until the day we moved into our own home together, along with my two cats, Max and Shane.
Soon after we moved into our new home, there came to the shelter a couple of young dogs from a local cruelty case. We knew that the case could take quite awhile to be settled and it would be best for the dogs to go into foster homes until then. I was drawn to a shy, five month old pup, named Ivy by the staff. She was very leery of people and easily frightened by loud noises and quick movements. She liked Raven and Raven (and Max and Shane) accepted her, so home with us she came. Ivy quickly became one of the family and I dreaded the day that her case would go to court. There was always a chance that the defendant would win and the animals would be sent back to him. I couldn’t bear the idea of sending this sweet girl back to that life. The day the case was settled and the animals given over for adoption to the shelter, I went in and officially made her part of our family. Six years later, Ivy is the sweetest, friendliest, most loving creature. No one would ever know how her life had started out. I only hope that she has no memory of it either.
In memory of Catch... by T.
I adopted Catch from a shelter in October of 2002. I was told that he had been shuffled from the shelter to foster care and back, and was facing imminent euthanasia when I rescued him. He was anywhere from 2-4 years of age at the time we adopted him.
Catch was a gentle, lion-hearted giant who was a beloved member of our family. He was the inseparable partner of our dog, Keena, who I adopted from a shelter in 2001. It didn’t take Catch long to realize that he had finally found his home on our farm. He loved running through the fields, playing with Keena, chasing off the coyotes, and protecting our family. He loved to sunbathe in the pumpkin patch, content to lie quietly next to me, and to ride in the back of our pickup with Keena, his head out the window of the topper and his ears streaming in the wind.
Catch left this world on August 11, 2009, secure in my arms and confident of my love as he passed to the next world. I grieve the loss of him terribly, as does Keena, but we know he is no longer suffering from aching joints and failing hearing. I can picture him running pain-free in the heavens and know he is finally at peace. I will never forget this amazing creature that God sent to be a part of our family. I am so grateful for the time we had with him.
Goldie…by Kelley B.
Goldie came into my life right after I had bought a house with two friends of mine in Arlee. We had company and were going to a restaurant in Charlo for dinner. After eating, we all walked out and were standing there talking before going our separate ways when this cat walked up to us. One of us had leftovers and took a piece of meat out to give to the cat. The waitress saw us feeding the cat and giving her attention and came out and asked us if we wanted her. Having just moved into a place with a lot of mice we decided to take her home. I named her Goldie for her eyes. When we sold the place and all went our own ways I kept Goldie with me. Even though I am not a cat person, there was never a question that we would get rid of her. She had become a part of our family.
Goldie is a great cat. When I was living with another friend, Goldie wouldn’t go out the dog door (she’d come in it) unless she absolutely had to, so she would sit at the front door waiting patiently to go out. I’ve recently moved into a place where none of my animals can go out without me so I’ve set up a litter box for Goldie…she only uses it when absolutely necessary choosing, instead, to go out whenever I take the dogs out to potty. She walks right along with us and does her business.
I want to say that most of the animals I have had in my life from childhood to now have been rescued either from a shelter or having been abandoned. They have all been the most wonderful companions and I hope that my story will encourage people to go to shelters to adopt and animal or take in that animals someone else has abandoned. And also hopefully everyone will spay and neuter so no animal has to be homeless.
Dakota…by Mary G.
Even at six weeks old, Dakota’s future was looking grim. She had the misfortune to be born a “half-breed”, not her fault of course but she and her siblings would probably pay the price. Taken to the shelter after her humans realized that people didn’t even want free Lab Pit Bull mix puppies, Dakota’s days were numbered…or so the shelter staff told me as I watched the puppies play. My husband and I had just moved to Montana, we were building a house, looking for jobs and he was off hunting when fate brought Dakota and me together. I had stopped at the shelter just to see what the facility was like with no intention of leaving with a new family member. We had already discussed that our next dog would be a “hunting dog” and probably a black lab since, Gretchen our ten year old German Shorthair was probably going to retire soon, but with everything going on in our lives this really wasn’t a good time…well, except that we had plywood floors so messes during potty training would not be a disaster! I made the rounds of all the kennels but kept going back to the puppies…one in particular kept coming to the front but didn’t bark, just looked happy. The puppy looked like a purebred Lab…at least I convinced myself that she did and decided to adopt thinking that my husband would never know the truth. One day I did finally “fess up” once the bonding process was over and when I saw my husband playing tug-of-war with Dakota which I thought might not be a good idea if he wanted a “soft mouthed” hunting dog!
Not only did Dakota worm her way into our hearts she turned out to be the best hunting dog we’d ever had. She had the heart and love of a Black Lab and the stamina and stubbornness of the Pit Bull….a winning combination in our home and in the field. We were blessed with 15 years and I will never regret the day I fell in love with a half breed. Run free Dakota! 1992 ~ 2007
Sloopy….by Judy S.
Sometimes it isn’t the person that picks the dog. Snoopy (aka Red) had spent about seven months in another shelter before being transferred to ours in March of last year. Being a hound mix he was quite vocal about being kept in a kennel, so people continued to pass him by. As a volunteer trying to exercise and help promote shelter dogs, I eventually started taking him to events in his “Adopt Me” vest. I rejoiced when a nice lady met him at the Farmers’ Market and adopted him. In about a week he was back due to chasing her outside cats and not staying home. After that I guess I concentrated on him too much, because if he wasn’t assigned to me when we lined up for parades he’d start quite a fuss until I traded dogs so he could be with me. He was in foster for a few weeks before being adopted a second time. Again he was returned. They said he was sick, so he wound up back in the shelter. I started singing “Hang On Sloopy, Sloopy Hang On” and the name stuck Finally, in mid-October, my situation changed so that I could take him home myself. Our one-year anniversary is almost here! Although we’ve had the occasional battle of wills, Sloopy’s a loyal companion and I’m glad he picked me.
Norman & Leo….by Kelley B.
Norman is my toy fox terrier. I have had him for 13 years and a month. I got him from P.A.W.S. which stands for Progressive Animal Welfare Society based in Lynnwood, WA. When I first went to look for a companion I had another dog in mind. Norman was there, but had just come in so he was in quarantine. I didn’t give him much thought because of that. P.A.W.S. has an adoption day and I was told to come back on that day to fill out paperwork and see if I would be able to adopt Bagel; the dog I had my eye on. I got there early, before the place opened and there was other people already waiting and a few were talking about wanting to adopt Bagel. My heart fell thinking I would be leaving without a dog.
I had been searching for a couple of months at various shelters around Seattle. There were a lot of dogs for adoption but, because of where I lived, I could not have a dog that weight more than 25 pounds. That really limited my choices.When the doors opened I went in and filled out the paperwork for Bagel and heard one of the workers talking about Norman who, at that time was being called Toby. He was now available for adoption so I said I would be interested in adopting him if I was not chosen for Bagel. I had to wait as the staff made their selections and they chose me to have Norman as they felt he would do better in a home without children. When he was brought in they were told he was around 5 months old which worked for me as I did not want a young puppy. We spent time out in their yard playing and getting to know each other. Norman showed off for me, fetching a ball and bringing it back (the only time he ever did that) and winding his way into my heart. I decided I would like to adopt him and had to leave him for neutering. He has brought me years of entertainment and laughter and companionship. He is quite the comedian and he has shown me, along with my other dog Leo, what unconditional love is and to always have hope. By the way, Norman has always been great with young children!
I tried to get some answers from the shelter as to why someone would give up a purebred and they didn’t know, but I have spoken with a few people who know toy fox terriers and they told me that even when Norman was a puppy, it was obvious he was going to be bigger than the standards of the breed. He is about twice the size and weight of a true toy, but I don’t care. All the more for me to love.
Leo, I did not get from a shelter but rescued as part of a litter abandoned near my home over nine years ago. He was one of six brand new puppies that had been dumped. They were lying in a puddle and two had drowned. My sister was with me as we were walking our dogs. She ran home and got her car while I waited with the puppies and we them home. This was a Friday evening. We thought we would be able to take them into the shelter on Saturday, but in the mean time they had to eat. My sister called a vet who told her that if we took them in they would be put down since the shelter does not have the staff to care for animals around the clock. Well, we were not having any of that. We promptly went into town and got formula, bottles and whatever else we needed to care for the pups. For several weeks we took turns around the clock feeding them. They all survived. We found homes for two and I keep Leo and my sister kept Tiggs. We have no idea what mix they are although we think there is retriever in them and Pit Bull, but I have had people tell me they see hound, German Shepard, Great Dane, Mastiff and various other breeds in them. Doesn’t matter to me. As I said, that was over 9 years ago now and I have had the good fortune of having this wonderful canine friend that someone else missed out on because they dumped him. As a result of this experience, I cannot suggest strongly enough that people spay and neuter their pets. And, if you are wanting to bring a dog into your family, go to a shelter…there are so many just waiting to be loved.
Farley and Kip...by Lori H.
I moved to Montana in 1998, single and dogless. I had just lost my house and my dog in a divorce, and I was looking to make a fresh start in Missoula. As soon as I had a place of my own, I went to the local shelter and adopted Farley, a 10-week old Australian shepherd-malamute pup. He was everything I hoped he would be—companion, hiking buddy, coach potato, protector and entertainer. He was an easy-going dog who went everywhere with me. After five years of adventures, we were to the point where a couple times a day we would just look at each other. Direct eye contact, no fuss about hierarchy, no challenge, no looking away, no words—just a deep gaze that said, “Yeah, I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine. Cool.” That understanding was one of the fundamental tenets of my life.
That was when tragedy struck. While hiking in Idaho, Farley ate a poison meatball put out to kill wolves. He died in my arms as we rushed him to the vet. As it turned out, I didn’t have his back after all and that was a harsh reality to live with. In my grief-stricken state, I somehow made my way to the local animal shelter. Having recently moved down the Bitterroot Valley, I didn’t even know where it was, but I found it anyway. To this day, I firmly believe that Farley was leading the way. Once at the shelter, I fell for a pointy-little black and white Kelpie puppy, but she was a stray and not yet available. I waited four tense days and finally on the fifth day was able to bring my new dog “Kip” home. There she found a basket of dog toys, a dog bed in a bay window, and a 40 pound bag of dog food, just as Farley had left them. I stilled grieved intensely for Farley, but having Kip in my life gave me something to focus on besides my sadness and guilt. She gave me hope.
Within three months of adopting Kip, she and I moved to the top of a mountain while I served as a lookout for the Forest Service. When they offered me the job, I said, “…only if you’ll let me bring my dog.” They agreed and off we went. For three months, Kip and I were together constantly, 24-7. She helped with chores, chased gophers, accompanied me on evening walks, and alerted me when we had visitors, which wasn’t very often. And she slept soundly through midnight thunderstorms while I sat bleary eyed over my map marking lightening strikes. My stint up at the lookout was one of the best experiences of my life, and I couldn’t have had it without my Kip at my side.
Then, without even a break, we went from the lookout to Butte where I attended school for the year. It was an exciting time, but lonely because I was in a strange place and didn’t know anyone. Thank goodness for Kip! She kept me company when I was alone and forced me to get regular exercise and keep a semblance of a normal schedule. Soon we met people, active people and people with dogs. Together we hiked the hills of Butte and skied the Moulton. Kip had more human and dog friends in town than I did, and she got me out and about even when I didn’t feel like it or had other things to do. When I look back at my time in Butte, I realize that it would have been nothing but loneliness and stress if it weren’t for my little, pointy black shelter dog Kip at my side.