(I recieved this message in my email box when I was an Animal Control Officer)















As a journalist, I decided to go to the dog pound, and interview
some of the "inmates". I wanted to know what it was like in there
from their perspective. What follows is not for the faint of heart.



I entered the building, and one of the workers accompanied me to the
holding area. This is where dogs are kept before they are allowed up
for adoption* IF they are allowed up for adoption. If the dogs are
found to be aggressive in any way, euthanasia is employed.
Fortunately, if "fortunately" is the word to be used here* this is a
Canadian establishment, and they use lethal injection, not a gas
chamber.



The pound worker led me past a big steel door that says "Employees
Only". "What is in there?" I asked. From the look he gave me, I knew
that this is where dogs go in, and never return.



We moved on to a row of kennels. The dogs were barking loudly, there
was the acrid smell of urine and feces, and a feeling of despair
seemed to permeate the room.

"Go ahead," the worker said. "They're all yours."



Pete

I looked into the first kennel, and saw only the back of a medium
sized dog who was curled up in the corner of his kennel, shivering.
He was mostly white, with some black spots. "Hello?" I said. "May I
come in?" He lifted his head, as though it weighed more than he
could bear. When he looked at me, I could see he was a Pitbull. His
eyes were gentle, but filled with grief.

"Enter," was all he said.

I stepped in, closing the gate behind me. He put his head back down,
facing away from me. I crouched down a few feet away.

"My name is Pete. Petey my Master called me," he said, still not
looking at me.

"Why are you here Pete?" I asked.

"I am here because Master cannot afford to move to another province.
I am here because someone with power said I am vicious, and a
killer. Someone who never met me. Master took me for a walk one day,
and some lady started to scream when she saw me. I got frightened,
and barked at her. The dog police came, and they took me away. I
have been with Master for 10 years. The last time I saw him, he just
held me and cried. He kept telling me he was sorry. I worry for him.
Whatever will he do without me?" Pete shivered even more.

A tear slid down my face. I am supposed to remain objective, but
this was wrong* so wrong.

"Thank you Pete." I said. He said nothing as I got up and left his
kennel.

Popper

The kennel next to Pete's held a very young looking dog. Pure Border
Collie by my guess. He stood on his hind legs, looking at me through
the gate.

"Hello. My name's Popper. He tilted his head. "Are you here to take
me home?"

"No, I'm sorry," I replied. "But I would like to talk with you."

"Sure. What would you like to talk about?"

"Popper, how did you come to be in this place?" I asked.

Popper dropped down from the gate, with a perplexed look on his
face. He walked to the back of the kennel, then back to the front. I
noticed he had one blue eye, and one brown. He was quite beautiful.
His black and white coat was shiny and thick.

"I am not certain WHY I am here. I think maybe my family will come
back for me. They bought me when I was only 6 weeks old. I remember
they said how smart Border Collies are, and how it would be so easy
to train me. They were very excited at first. The little ones played
with me all the time. But the trouble with little Masters is, they
refuse to stay in a group. I constantly had to nip their heels to
keep them together." He looked confused. "Why won't they stay in a
group?" he sighed. "So I did what I thought I should do. I am not
quite sure why the little ones screamed when I did my job, but they
did, and the Masters got very angry at me. They also got angry when
I had to relieve myself, and did so in the house. I am not sure
where they expected me to go. All they said was that I was the
smartest breed in the world, and I should just KNOW better. Then
they left me in the yard for a month or so. I got bored a lot, and I
dug holes in the grass. The next thing I knew, the Masters brought
me here."

Popper jumped back up on the gate, his white paws protruding through
the links. He looked at me with his lovely eyes, and asked "Will you
please let them know I want to come home? Please tell them I promise
I will be good?"

"I will Popper," I said.

Spartan

My heart was breaking. I was beginning to regret coming here, but
their stories had to be told. I moved along. The next dog I saw
looked to be easily 100 lbs., a Rottweiler. He was handsome indeed,
except for the scars on his face and back. He tilted his head, and
looked me right in the eyes.

"Hello. Who are you?" he asked.

"I am a reporter," I replied. "May I speak with you for a little
while?"

"Most certainly. My name is Spartan. You can come in, I won't bite,"
he said.

"Thank you Spartan. I will."

I entered his kennel, reached out and stroked his giant head. He
made a loud grumbling noise, and closed his eyes.

"Spartan, why are you here?"

Before he could answer my question, he was suddenly in the grip of a
nasty coughing spasm. It sounded painful.

"Please excuse me," he said when it passed. "Kennel cough. It seems
all of us who come in here get it.
"Why am I here? Well, about two years ago, I was born in the
backyard of some person I can't even recall. I had 11 brothers and
sisters. I recall a day when a big man came and gave that person
some money, and took me away from my mother. They had to chain her
up, as she was very angry that he took me. They chained her and beat
her. I came to know the man by the name of Jim. I overheard him
telling his friends that I would grow up to be big and mean like my
mother. But as I grew older, all I wanted to do was play and be
friends with everyone. Jim said I needed to be taught how to be
mean, so he chained me up in the yard. No more house for me, he
said, I was too spoiled. When people came by to visit, I was so
happy to see them. I wanted them to come and play. But that made Jim
angry, so he beat me with sticks and chains. When he came near, I
would roll onto my back so he would know I wasn't a bad dog. That
made him beat me more." Spartan's eyes clouded with grief. "Then he
brought me here."

I reached out and stroked Spartan's massive gentle head once
more. "I am so sorry Spartan. Some people are just plain evil." I
gave him a kiss and left his kennel.

As I walked away, Spartan called out, "What will happen to me, nice
lady?"

I shook my head. "I can't say Spartan. Maybe someone kind will come
and get you. We can only hope."

Patsy

I walked a little further down. I could see a shape moving at the
back of the next kennel. "Hello?" I called out. Suddenly the shape
lunged at the gate in a fury, barking and gnashing its teeth. I
stumbled backwards, and crashed into an adjacent kennel. The other
dogs began barking loudly and jumping at their gates.

"Don't go near her," a small female voice came from behind
me. "She's mad."

I gathered myself back together, and saw a little Jack Russell
Terrier behind me.

"Thanks for the warning," I was still trembling. Across the way, the
other dog, apparently a Husky and German Shepherd cross, was glaring
at me, lips curled back revealing brown stained teeth. Her ribs and
hips showed through her dull, matted grey coat.
The little dog invited me into her kennel, and I gladly went in.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Patsy." The little brown and white dog held a paw up to
the gate in greeting.

"My owner surrendered me. She said she wanted a cute little dog like
the one on the TV show, Frasier. She didn't bother to look into the
type of dog I am." Patsy heaved a sigh.

"I suppose she expected me to just lie about and only need a short
walk each day, just like Eddie, but my energy was so high that I
needed to run and play." She glanced at her surroundings. "Now I am
here. I suppose it could be worse. I could be like*her." Patsy
looked towards the still growling dog across the way.

"What happened to make her so vicious?" I asked.

"From what we could gather," she replied. "she was found tied in a
back yard. She only had a three foot chain. Some days there was no
water. Rarely was there any food. One day a nice neighbour came by
and brought her some meat. By then it was too late. She was already
mad. She broke off her chain, and bit the poor man badly. We know
she will be going behind the steel door. I am sad to say, I think it
will be best. Perhaps then she will know some peace."

Just then, the door at the end of the building opened, and a woman
stepped inside. All the dogs began to bark wildly, then one by one,
they went quiet.

I whispered to Patsy, "Who is that? Why have all the dogs gone
quiet?"

Patsy breathed deeply through her little nose, and closed her
eyes. "SHE is a Rescuer. Can't you smell it?" she asked.

"Smell what?" I was confused.

"Compassion. Love. Sorrow. It emanates from her pores. She is here
for one of us, but nobody knows who just yet." Patsy looked hopeful.

The Rescuer moved from kennel to kennel, looking at each dog. I sat
quietly watching. I could see tears in her eyes as she made eye
contact with each one. She stopped at Spartan's cage and spoke
quietly to him.

"No more beatings my man. No more. You are coming with me. From here
on in, it's all going to get better."

The Rescuer produced a leash, opened the kennel door, and took
Spartan away. As he walked beside her, his little stubby tail wagged
with delight.

Patsy sighed again. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and
it grieved me. They all had the same look, as they watched The
Rescuer depart.

"I am so sorry Patsy," I said in a whisper. "But you are a little
dog, and everyone loves little dogs. I am convinced you will be
rescued soon." Patsy's brown eyes twinkled at me, a little bit of
hope returning.

I had heard and seen enough. I needed to tell people how it was for
these unfortunate creatures. They were all here through no fault of
their own. I stood to leave. I passed by many other dogs I did not
interview, looking at each one, wishing I could take them all home
with me and give them the love they deserved.
I stood by the door taking one last glance back, when it opened, and
one of the pound workers came in. His face was drawn and sad. He
walked by without a word, and stopped at Pete's kennel. I heard him
take a deep breath, then he paused, and opened the kennel door.

The words were muffled, but I am sure I heard him say "I'm sorry old
boy."

He came out, with Petey in tow. The old dog's head hung down in
resignation, and they both disappeared behind the big steel door.

Wow, So sad, yet so powerful. Thank you for sharing and being one who cares! I hope that we can make a difference and help lessen the amount of animals put to death.

i read these stories like this and it just makes my heart hurt. i wish i had a place i could just take em all in. having 2 dogs of my own...i would never be able to live with myself if i had to give a dog up to a place like the humane society. thanks for sharing. it makes me sooo sad though.

here in arizona...the humane soceity puts down 200+ animals a day. and thats just at one facility. i just cant believe it. thats really ridiculous. we as humans have become so irrisponsible for our animals that depend on us. shame on humans!

The following are great ideas from www.stopthekilling.net that Los Angeles and all other cities should implement to help Stop The Killing of Companion Animals!

Low cost, easily accessible and truly mandatory spay/neuter laws for every resident.

Free spay/neuter services to all low income residents.

A city-wide policy allowing free trap, neuter and return (TNR) programs for feral cats.

Open all shelter spay/neuter clinics sitting idle immediately and enlist veterinarians to volunteer and “give back” to their community by doing a certain amount of free spay/neuters every month at these clinics (physician/surgeons are expected to do this by operating and then following up on the patients who don’t have health insurance; why shouldn’t veterinarians?)

Volunteers/employees must be required to counsel the public who are either "relinquishing" their pet or seeking to adopt one.

Increase the fees currently charged to relinquish "dump" an animal.

Each person "relinquishing" an animal must speak with a volunteer and or employee before they do so and provide their drivers license information.

Require pet shops to offer animals for “adoption” rather than selling puppies from puppy mills resulting in the death of thousands of innocent animals every year.

Outlaw the purposeful breeding of animals for profit; it’s a disgrace and results in thousands of healthy, loving animals (many of whom are purebreds) being executed in our shelters every week.

Require a complete, outside volunteer peer-review audit of LAAS finances, policies and practices.

Clearly outline and have an independent volunteer council witness the LAAS policies and procedures, then publish the TRUE number of animals taken into the shelters every month and all adoption, rescues and number of executions; including holding periods and the reasons for execution. (This will prevent the LAAS from lying about the true number of animals being killed and why.)

Investigations regarding animal cruelty and neglect inside and outside the city shelters to be done by an independent, competent committee who, unlike Commander David Diliberto of L.A., do not involve his friends, fellow union employees or drinking buddies who are allegedly perpetrating the crimes.

The General Manager and the commissioners who sit on the LAAS board are to be appointed by an outside committee made up of several 501c3 rescue groups in Los Angeles (this will prevent the power to appoint these important individuals to be solely at the discretion of the Mayor.) The commissioners must spend time in each of the six city shelters at least once a week.

Change city code to allow more than three animals per household (if an LA city resident is allowed to have more than three children, they ought to have the right by law to have more than three dogs or cats.

Human over population is far more devastating to our natural resources, our living conditions and the spread of disease, than having four, five or even more dogs/cats living in a household
Landlord and builders be required to allow tenants to have a pet(s). Landlords cannot discriminate against tenants with children, (and children do MUCH more property damage than pets!) So they should NOT be allowed to discriminate against tenants who live with a companion animal.

Establish policies and programs to actively place companion animals in retirement and HUD housing.

Mandatory training and retraining of shelter employees (including supervisors) to require they be courteous, knowledgeable, humane and meet a minimum set of standards for aiding the public in adopting a companion animal.

Require that shelter employees allow all animals up for adoption to be seen by the public; (some adoptable animals are kept behind locked doors for absolutely no valid reason). These animals locked away include but are not limited to those with treatable conditions like sprains, sniffles, fleas, etc.

Furthermore, every single employee is to be required to inform the public about Shelter Care insurance policy, which covers the treatment of these medical conditions for free; and to offer every adopter an application form.

Shelter employees are required to allow all animals to be seen and photographed by volunteers and rescuers seeking to help them get adopted by advertising them on web sites, etc.
Volunteers/employees must be required to take out animals from their cages and give them exercise by either walking them or taking them to an exercise area on shelter property.

The six LA city shelters must be educational and helpful environments, where volunteers and the public can come in and interact with the animals outside their desolate, filthy cages. Currently the shelter staff don’t even allow the volunteers, who take a training course, to walk the dogs around the block giving them the exercise they so desperately need; and the staff NEVER takes the time to do this. So our shelters currently feel like depressing, unfriendly and disorganized “pounds”, where the smell of fear, misery and “death” permeates the air.

The Public Relations officer is to be required to have previous experience in adoption and rescue of shelter animals and to have expertise in advertising, public relations and be bilingual.
Replace the current “paid” LAAS volunteer staff with enthusiastic, caring animal people, who will establish an aggressive volunteer recruitment program and increase the mobile pet adoption venues, to reach out to the millions of residents who want a companion animal.

The entire LAAS web site and any educational information available at the shelters be bilingual. A ten minute educational and welcome “loop” video in both Spanish and English is required to be watched by potential adopters and those “giving up” their pets, and then be required to speak to a volunteer or employee to discuss any questions they may have.

Require the staff and Public Relations officer is to give at least one school assembly lecture per week or neighborhood council lecture per week, talking about the importance of spay/neuter, adoption, caring for and respecting companion animals, including feral cats and wildlife. They should also be required to go on local news shows (both Spanish and English) at least once per week to advertise the shelters and encourage the viewers to adopt.

Require that some of the LAAS department's budget be spent on bilingual TV and radio advertising to encourage adoption, give the shelter locations, hours open for adoption and information on low cost and free spay/neuter.