Shelter Dogs (4 page)

Eventually they managed to get him into a small carrier and took him to the Humane Society. The social workers, still bleeding, were glad to get rid of him.

All dogs who arrive at the Humane Society are checked by the veterinary staff, but Kirby was too upset to be handled. He growled and refused to come out of the carrier. The staff tried hard to calm Kirby and coax him out, but they failed.

Dr. Bill Larson, the veterinarian on duty, estimated that Kirby was about five years old.

Still in the carrier, Kirby was taken to the quiet hospital kennels, where animals are kept until they are well enough to be put up for adoption. Most of the animals in the hospital ward have a physical illness. Kirby's problem was emotional.

Kirby's carrier was put in a private kennel, and the door to the carrier was left open. Dr. Larson and the rest of the Humane Society staff hoped that plenty of food, water, and love would help Kirby heal from his terrible ordeal.

But Kirby seemed unable to forget his terror; he refused all efforts to comfort him. He stayed in the small carrier, growling and snapping when anyone approached. Each time fresh food was brought, Kirby cowered and bared his fangs. People had let Kirby down, and he apparently wanted nothing more to do with any human.

When Kirby arrived, Nita Baker was the senior veterinary technician at the Humane Society. After ten years there, she had a talent for calming the most ferocious dogs, and she had often succeeded with dogs who had not responded well to other people. She decided to give Kirby some special attention.

Several times each day, Nita approached Kirby's kennel. When she tried to let Kirby sniff her hand, he retreated, huddling in the corner of the carrier and growling. She took him tasty dog treats; Kirby growled at her. She spoke softly and told him what a wonderful dog he was; Kirby snapped at her. When she tried to pet him, Kirby bared his teeth and Nita had to back away. No matter how hard Nita tried, nothing worked.

Clearly, Kirby was miserable. He was a beautiful little dog who looked as if he had once been loved and cared for; everyone hoped that they could somehow break through his distrust.

Nita kept trying for four days, and so did the rest of the staff, including Dr. Larson and Nita's friend, Helen Hughes, who worked in the adoption center. Kirby stayed fearful and unapproachable.

The saddest decision that the Humane Society staff must make is the decision to end an animal's life. But they know that a dog who snaps and snarls at everyone who comes near him cannot be put up for adoption. And it was obvious that the unhappy little terrier no longer enjoyed his life.

The staff decided that Kirby was not going to recover from his terrible ordeal, and that euthanasia would be the kindest option. Much as they wanted a different outcome, they all agreed that this was best for Kirby.

Nita was assigned to assist Dr. Larson with the euthanasia. Because they wished they didn't have to do it, they put off going to Kirby's kennel until the very end of the day.

With heavy hearts, Nita and Dr. Larson put on thick leather gloves to protect themselves from Kirby's teeth. They took tools to dismantle the carrier that Kirby refused to leave and towels to put over him to help subdue him long enough to put a leash on him.

When they got to Kirby's kennel, he reacted as usual: he barked fiercely, snarled, and backed away.

Nita's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the sad little dog. She had tried so hard to save him, and she had failed.

Nita and Dr. Larson slipped inside the kennel and, using a screwdriver, took all the nuts and bolts off the carrier. They planned to use the carrier door as a shield in case Kirby attacked.

With the carrier dismantled, Nita managed to loop a leash around Kirby's neck. When Kirby felt the leash, he stopped struggling and stood still, looking perplexed.

Nita squatted down to be at his level, but she stayed the leash length away in case he tried to bite her. Kirby stood quietly and stared at her. Dr. Larson watched nervously, warning Nita to be careful.

Nita said softly, “Hey, Kirby. Want to go for a walk?”

When Kirby heard the word
walk
, he wagged his tail. He cocked his head, looking excited and enthusiastic. There was no snarling, no snapping, and no backing away.

Nita and Dr. Larson stared in disbelief.

Nita repeated the question. “Walk? Shall we go for a walk?”

Kirby's eyes lit up, and he quivered in anticipation.

Nita stood up and led Kirby out of the kennel and into the outdoor exercise yard. Kirby trotted along beside her. After a few laps around the yard, Nita removed the leash and tossed a tennis ball. Kirby ran after it and brought it back. When he dropped the ball at Nita's feet, she reached out to pat him, and Kirby wriggled with pleasure.

They continued the game of catch until Kirby grew tired. Then Nita sat on the walkway, and Kirby climbed into her lap for a snuggle. Nita stroked his fur, scratched behind his ears, and rubbed his tummy. Kirby licked her under her chin, his tail wagging.

Once again Nita's eyes filled with tears, but this time they were tears of joy. When she looked at Dr. Larson, he was crying, too. The little dog, who just hours before had seemed totally unadoptable, was suddenly a loving companion. All it took was a word he recognized.

Dr. Larson canceled the euthanasia order. The entire staff rejoiced.

Kirby still had a major problem, however. Because he had recently bitten the two social workers, he could not be put out for adoption.

Nita and Helen are foster parents for the Humane Society. They often take home dogs who need special care until they are ready to go into a permanent adoptive home. Nita and Helen decided to take Kirby home for a few days. They thought if they “fostered” Kirby for a while, it would help him regain his emotional health. If they could establish that Kirby was now unlikely to bite anyone, he might still be adoptable.

When Nita and Helen brought Kirby home, their own dog, who weighed one hundred pounds, and their three cats paid little attention to the newcomer. They were used to foster animals coming and going.

Kirby wasn't scared of the big dog and he didn't mind the cats. Whenever visitors came, Kirby barked, then wagged his tail when they greeted him. There was no growling and no snapping.

Nita doesn't know what prompted her that night to ask the little dog if he wanted to go for a walk. Habit? Intuition? Plain good luck? Whatever it was, she is thankful she said the magic word that released Kirby from his fear.

A few days became a few weeks, and then a few months. By then, Nita and Helen loved Kirby far too much to ever give him up. They adopted him permanently. And no matter how busy Nita and Helen are, they take Kirby for a walk, every single day.

Reminders from the Humane Society

Joey

INTERNATIONAL SERVICE DOG

Susan Duncan's service dog, Joey, pulls out a dishrack from the dishwasher at Susan's home. It is one of the many ordinary chores Joey does to help Susan, who has multiple sclerosis.

4

J
OEY IS PART GERMAN SHEPHERD
and part unknown. Both parts are huge. The woman who brought him to the Humane Society had found him running loose on a busy street so she knew nothing about his background. She kept him while she ran a “Found” ad in the paper and put up posters, but nobody claimed Joey.

There was no evidence that he had ever been housebroken or given any kind of training, and he had not been neutered.

Joey's teeth provided the best clue to his age: they showed he was about three years old. Only one thing about him was known for sure—he had plenty of energy. He jumped, tugged on the leash, and tried to investigate everything in the room while the woman who had found him signed the surrender papers.

A large, exuberant, untrained dog is not the first choice for most people who come looking for a companion animal. Joey's chances for adoption seemed slight.

Joey received the same care that all incoming dogs get. He was checked by a veterinarian, vaccinated, and sprayed for fleas. He was given a clean kennel and nourishing food while he waited for a new family. Occasionally, he was taken outside to the penned “Get Acquainted” area, where he raced wildly around.

Joey had been at the Humane Society for thirty-eight days when Susan Duncan came to the shelter. Susan has multiple sclerosis, a nerve disease that causes increasing weakness. She has lost much of the use of her left side. Her beloved nine-year-old service dog, Casper, had died unexpectedly two days earlier.

A service dog is any dog trained to perform tasks for a person with a disability. Some are guide dogs who help people with impaired vision; some are “hearing-ear” dogs who aid people with impaired hearing. Some do a variety of jobs for owners such as Susan.

Susan knew that most service dogs are purebreds, trained by professional service-dog trainers. However, there was a waiting period of at least a year to receive such a dog. Susan didn't want to give up a year or more of independence.

She had found Casper at the Humane Society. He was the family pet until Susan fell one day and was unable to get up. Casper went to her, rolled her onto her right side, and then tugged on her sleeve, pulling her to a sitting position so she could lean on him while she got to her feet. He had never been taught to do this.

Susan falls often. Until that day, she had always had to wait until another person could help her get back up. From then on, she depended on Casper to help her. She decided to try to train him to assist her in other ways.

She called a professional service-dog trainer for advice and was told she would not be able to train a dog herself. Undaunted, Susan read animal training books and began working with Casper, using simple commands and praising him when he did what she wanted. She taught him to hold doors open for her and pick up items she dropped. He learned to let her lean on him for balance as she got in and out of bed. He became her constant companion.

Now Casper was gone, and Susan was trying to put aside her grief. She knew she needed a new dog, so once again she went to the Humane Society.

She paused in front of Joey's kennel and gazed at the large brown-and-black dog. One of his ears stuck out sideways and the other flopped forward. He seemed eager and alert, and he was tall enough that she could rest a hand on his shoulder when he stood beside her. Susan decided to take Joey into the Get Acquainted area.

When she opened the kennel door to put a leash on him, Joey leaped up and placed his front paws on Susan's shoulders. Susan staggered backwards, dropped her cane, and stepped in Joey's water bowl.