Copy of Letter mailed to local store that sells antique ivory beads

09-04-15

Dear Owner of Friends Lapidary and Jewelry,

You seem like such a nice man. In fact I'm sure you are a nice man. You are helpful and knowledgeable and kind when I'm in your store.

However there's one thing that really bothers me about Friends, one thing and one thing only.

Your store sells ivory beads.

Please stop, I beg of you to please stop.

Perhaps you're not aware an elephant is poached every 15 minutes in Africa, that's an average of 96 elephants being killed daily for ivory.

Perhaps you don't know poachers shoot elephants with poisoned darts to avoid making noise with guns at times. This poison debilitates the animal but doesn't instantly kill it; elephants have the front half of their faces cut off while they're still alive.

Perhaps you don't know that poachers wait in hiding for the family members and friends of the elephants to return to the 'scene of the crime' to mourn their beloved... only to massacre the makeshift 'elephant funeral.'

Perhaps you don't know that baby elephants are being left motherless every day and die a slow death of hunger and heartache.

Perhaps you don't know that poached ivory funds extremist and terrorist groups in Africa and throughout the Middle East... this is extremely dirty money.

Perhaps you don't know that elephants are pregnant for nearly 2 years at a time so the reproduction cycle is very slow.

Perhaps you don't know that elephants with large tusks (referred to as the 'Tuskers' instinctively hide their tusks in bushes or behind trees when a helicopter flies over their heads)- they know they're targeted and killed for their tusks and, yes, poachers track elephants and rhino by helicopter- these are organized terrorist-funded-groups.

I could go on but I won't. It's not good for my blood pressure.

Sources: African Wildlife Foundation, The Tsavo Trust, International Anti-Poaching-Foundation, 96elephants.org, WWF (Traffic in particular), NRDC... I'm a member of all of these groups even though my meager earnings allow me to donate a very minimal amount annually.

I know your ivory sir is 'from the vault' but that doesn't matter. You carrying it still in some small way 'creates a demand,' and implicates that you're O.K. with the violent slaughter of a majestic, intelligent, sentient creature. And you seem like such a nice man, I just can't imagine that to be the case.

Thank You For Hearing My Concerns, Truly,

One of Your Customers    

The significance of learning and sharing that pet's story!

When you meet someone new what helps you feel you are getting to know that person?
A name is helpful, sharing one's age allows for better insight but what about when the 'new person' shares more with you?
When you find out a bit of someone's story doesn't it make you feel you truly know that person... When someone tells you where he is from, how he came to live in this city, what his occupation is, whether or not he's single, married, divorced, with or without kids, what he enjoys doing and so on- these details allow you and your 'new friend' to discover what you have in common (we all have some things in common). These details also permit you to feel empathy for your new friend and to share on an emotional level oppose to a passive, disengaged one.
I'm here to tell you- the same goes with meeting a homeless pet.
As a longtime shelter worker and volunteer I knew pretty much from day one that the pet's story could be crucial to helping it find a home.
When potential adopters see or hear: name, age, weight, and that's it for a particular pet it can be easy for them to stay disengaged, to feel that they don't truly know that pet... to just walk on by.
Wanting to rescue a pet, take it in, make it part of your life, when you don't feel like you really know that pet, can be challenging for the average person.
However when potential adopters see something like: Charlie is a 10 month old lab mix that will do anything for you to throw that tennis ball! This fun-loving, affectionate character adores the company of other dogs and people, heck he even likes cats (but we can't guarantee you they'll like him)! Unfortunately Charlie's prior owner surrendered him to the shelter because she was moving and apparently couldn't find an apartment that would accept her pet. Charlie needs an owner that knows pets are not disposable. He needs to find a home quickly since the shelter cannot keep dogs for long periods. Do you have 10 minutes now? -Great, then go fetch a volunteer to get Charlie out for you so he can get a much-needed pee break and show off those amazing tennis-ball-catching-skills! 
This is just an example. What I'm getting at is this: if you're in animal rescue, if you're seeking out adopters for homeless pets, you've got to learn as much as possible about your pets' stories and then you've got to share them- always. Share them in writing on pet adoption sites, on the backs of kennel cards, share them on social media, share them in person, just share those stories however and whenever possible. Remember, every pet has a story.
Now I'll share with you a message I received yesterday via facebook messenger from a former adopter that shared with me how significant knowing her adopted pet's story was for her when she was on the fence about adopting:

Hi Jessica!

My name is Beatriz and a few years ago, I adopted Mia from Animal Services at the Marlins adoption event in September 2012.
I think that you were the one that told me her story... how she was picked up off the street, then adopted, then returned... and was walking with her when she had her little "Adopt me" vest on that day.

I always meant to e-mail you following that day, because I can't tell you how much my life has changed since then.
She is the most loving, affectionate, loyal girl I've ever met and incredibly smart as well. She even manages to open my bedroom door and cuddle in my bed when I'm gone. She loves to tan, run, and play with other dogs.

She used to be so scared at first, especially of men, but little by little it started going away, as she met my dad, my boyfriend, and other guy friends that she learned to trust.
She also had a little bit of a peeing problem when I left the house, but that also started going away when she realized I always came back.

I just wanted to thank you, for telling me her story that day, and for being there with her. I wasn't even certain on adopting that day, but ever since I took her home, I can't imagine my days without her.

Here are some pictures of her, in case you'd like to see! And I hope that it was you!

-Beatriz

photo Beatriz sent me

Photo of Mia and I the day of the Adoption Event, we were both soooo happy she was going home!

Country and Dudley

As Adoption Counselor at MDAS I would walk kennel runs daily. With pen and scrap paper in hand (never new, always scrap) I'd enter via D, meander in and out through F, G, H and so on. Small to medium sized dogs were and are kept in D and J (like book shelf ends for F, G, H and I), toy-breeds and small dogs are kept in F,G,H and I. Cats are kept in rooms L and M. Larger dogs are kept in the N runs, which is a long row of kennels along the back shelter wall, the backs of these kennels open up to outside, allowing fresh air to swoosh through the shelter 24 hours a day, which is typically a great thing being that it's Miami and all. On the opposite side of the shelter near dog-receiving there are dozens more large dogs, in the west wing (WW). On any normal day there are more than 100 dogs in the west wing alone; clearly big dogs make up the bulk of the shelter dog population at Miami Dade, as is the case with any open-intake shelter.
Now that you've got the layout down, and it's alright even if you don't have it down, back to what I was saying about walking the runs daily...
I'd walk through, quickly assessing and meeting each dog on the adoption floor. Looking first at the dogs, petting some as time would allow, and reading their kennel cards while moving along. I'd glance over kennel cards for key information: arrival date, due out date, intake status (owner surrendered or stray) and sex to know if the dog was yet spayed or neutered- this was the crucial bit of info I'd gather from the cards. The color, age and breed stated on the cards weren't of initial importance to me since those were often the guess of whomever was working in dog intake and... some were better at 'guessing' than others. Color, age and breed were details I could always change as needed then print a new kennel card.
So, I'd make my little list of 5-10 dogs that: 1.) had been at the shelter the longest (more than a couple weeks) 2.) had nice personalities with no signs of aggression 3.) were ideally already spayed/neutered then... I'd get to work trying to save some lives.
Writing all this out makes me recall my first week working at MDAS as the 'Lead Adoption Counselor.'
You see, I was the first adoption counselor MDAS technically ever had. The position had been created and funded via an ASPCA grant. Ordinarily Animal Care Specialists (kennel workers) and volunteers would act as the adoption counselors at the shelter. They still did a great deal of adoption counseling even after I was hired; with an average of 500-800 adoptions per month you need many people assisting adopters along the way!
Anyhow, since this was a newly-created position when I started at MDAS there was some degree of confusion about exactly what I'd be doing as 'Adoption Counselor.' Sure, there was a page and a half job description saying things like, "Will assist adopters with interacting with pets," "Will take part in planning and orchestrating offsite adoption events," etc. but there was still a lot of grey area in regards to what I'd do day in and day out at the shelter. There aren't always adopters in the adoption area after all. So on my first day, after hanging out in the back (adoption area), petting some pets, laughing and sharing affection with them, and there still was no one to 'help adopt' I went to my then-manager, Mr. Leiva, and asked "If no adopters are in the back is it o.k. if I take a couple of dogs out to socialize? -That way I can get to know them better and I'll be better equipped to match them with the right adopters whenever they come in."
"Sure," he said, "that'd be fine, just don't be away from the adoption floor for long periods at a time."
"Great!" I thought and giddily headed back to the two dogs (kennel mates) I wanted to take out first.
Country and Dudley were their names, Country was a big, brown and white pointer/lab mix and Dudley was a, rusty-colored beagle/lab mix, both young, both boys. I chose to take them out first because they seemed a bit shy in their kennel, especially Country, who initially wouldn't even come when I called him or make any eye contact.
I entered the kennel, leads in hand and bent down, my back facing the dogs. This is what I do with shy dog introductions to let them smell and know me in as unobtrusive way as possible... it is polite in the dog world after all to show your 'butt-side' prior to your front side. Once Country and Dudley approached me (my back) I faced them sideways, still crouched down, making no real eye contact and was able to leash them.
MDAS has a small, concrete, fenced area that is great for adopter meet and greets since it's immediately outside the main building. It also has an expansive, fenced, grassy area across the parking lot, a little walk from the main shelter. This area is an oasis for shelter dogs, and where I would take them to run and play as long as time permitted (10 min segments usually). It's also where I would go with shelter volunteers when helping train them and to take dogs out to play. I took Country and Dudley there, to the 'oasis.' Seeing them transform into gleeful, playful, bouncing puppy dogs within minutes of being outside made my heart burst with love and joy. I felt so extremely happy and thought, "I love this job!"
I continued to socialize Country and Dudley the next few days. They quickly grew to know and trust me as I did them.
Then on my fourth day I went to their kennel only to find two other dogs in their place (it's rare to see an empty kennel at MDAS, and if you find one, it won't be empty for long). Where were Country and Dudley? Had they been moved, adopted?
I quickly checked in the computer and discovered they had been moved to WW63. I asked a co-worker, "Hey, why were these 2 dogs moved to the end of WW?"
"Oh, that's it for them then. They got kennel cough; that's why they're there," he said.
"Kennel cough, well that's no big deal to treat. That shouldn't be the end of the line for them just over a little cough," I replied.
I quickly learned that at MDAS it was indeed the end of the line for most dogs that ended up there, in this 'URI' (upper respiratory infection) area. Dogs moved to URI were treated while there however shelter policy didn't allow them to ever be moved back to the adoption floor, even once they were cured of kennel cough. The URI area wasn't and isn't accessible to shelter guests, aka potential adopters, so it's rare for a dog to be adopted out of the URI area since most people never even know it's there. -Not adopted, no interest in a pet, in URI most often equals euthanasia.
I was horrified. How could these 2 sweet doggies, my friends, be killed for having a little doggy cold and cough?
I simply could not let that happen. These were my friends. I had promised them in our time together in the yard that I would find them both great homes. I had told them not to worry. They trusted me. Country was making such progress! I couldn't let them die over a cold that could be cleared up in a few days.
To make (this part) of a long story short- I asked around until I found a friend, a friend of my boyfriend's to be exact, to foster Country, and Fabricio, my boyfriend, and I fostered Dudley. As luck would have it there was a major adoption event, mega-match-a-thon, just a couple of weeks away. I used this as a bargaining tool to help convince our friend Paulo to foster Country and for me to be able to foster Dudley- we already had 4 dogs in a 1-bedroom apartment.
I felt certain Country and Dudley would be well over kennel cough by the time the adoption event came around and even more certain (and hopeful) they'd find their forever homes there.
The adoption event was a magnificent success, with more than 100 pets adopted. I was able to meet Dudley's adopters, a sweet, young couple. They were great; my heart burst with love and joy once again.
When my shift had ended at the mega event Country had yet to be adopted.
The next day I found out he had been adopted but couldn't get much information on the adopter.
I called his adopter as soon as his data was entered into our computer system (it takes a few days to input this many adoptions).
The gentleman didn't seem to be the 'ideal dog owner' over the phone.
"He won't come to me, he just stands at the back of the yard, he doesn't do anything," the man said.
I was instantly worry-stricken.
"Have you tried walking Country? He's shy at first. You just need to put in the time and energy to build that bond with him then I'm sure you all with be happy together... he was thriving in his foster home, he can do great with you too," I pleaded, sounding as patient and kind as possible.
Fast forward from the day of that phone call to a few months later~
I'm in C ward- B and C rooms are designated for sick, injured, pregnant or nursing dogs- and this dog instantly catches my eye.
"You look so familiar," I said to him as I bent down.
I looked and looked. Oh God, it was Country. And he had a broken leg. And large ticks all around his neck. And his fur seemed it hadn't been petted in months. He was dirty. He still had on his shelter ID neck band even though he had left the shelter months ago! His shithead adopter never even bothered to cut off his shelter ID neck band! I was outraged and deeply saddened.
Upon reviewing his intake information in the computer I discovered he had come in as a 'stray' after being hit by a car on a busy road. Damn it!
I called Country's owner.
"Oh, he got out of the yard a few weeks ago and we never saw him again," he nonchalantly told me.
Poor Country, now what?!
By this point I had realized I could not save every dog I grew to love at the shelter. I could not foster every dog I grew to love. I couldn't foster Country. It would be a long-term foster due to his injury and I couldn't risk having a 5th dog in our apartment for that long for fears of being discovered as the 'dog lady' and potentially evicted!
I called Paulo to see if he could resume fostering Country for a while. He couldn't. He was traveling for work in the coming weeks. Damn it!
To make (this part) of a long story short Country was saved by the bell (and Dr. Serrano). He was transferred to the Humane Society thanks to a fund especially designated to operate on injured dogs. Country lived, as far as I know. But he had to spend weeks on cage rest in a vet's office, perhaps only getting out for a few minutes/day. Poor Country. Being locked up, confined, was what he feared and despised most and that became his life... for how long I don't know.
I called to check on him a couple of times but it always seemed the vet workers weren't 'bonded' with him. They were indifferent when talking about Country and his progress. I wanted to visit Country, to walk him, but I couldn't. MDAS had consumed me by this point in the game (yes, even though I had only been there a few months) and there were so many other dogs I was trying to help- constantly. Country was scheduled to go up for adoption at the Humane Society of Miami Dade once he fully recovered from his surgery. That's all I knew, that's all I'll ever know.
I set out to write this blog about networking dogs in shelters but I got distracted... what do you know... kind of like working in a shelter. Anyhow, I was able to help save many lives that were doomed, dogs like Country and Dudley, through networking. Clearly each of us only has so many good friends like Paulo that can foster or adopt a pet at any given time. Thank God I was able to find a way to reach a bigger audience to network MDAS dogs during my tenure there. Thank God for that. I'll have to write about that in my next blog so please stay tuned.

Until then leep on keepin' on rescue folks... volunteering, praying, transporting, networking, fostering!

Country at our old apt, smiling

Dudley always loved the tennis ball!

Country making himself right at home

Dudley resting

Putting Your Pet's Mortality Into Perspective

*Not recommended reading for anyone that has recently (within the last 3-6 months) lost a pet.

Losing a beloved pet feels like a sucker punch to the gut, to the soul, to the heart. Well actually as for the heart it just aches profoundly for days, sometimes weeks, sometimes months.
We mourn our deceased pets with our entire beings.
When we wake up we think of them, what they would typically do in the mornings, or perhaps we think of what they would do in the mornings when they were younger, full of vitality.
We may accidentally still go to their food or water dishes by habit, get out 2 treats when now we only have one dog. We may fasten their old collars to a very visible place or even make some kind of shrine for them.
We can smell their old blanket or bed, look longingly at old photos of them or even take a photo of where they would often lay hoping to see some miraculous, ghostly image of them in the picture.
We write about them, pray for them, visualize them in a happy, safe place somewhere beyond time and space.
Oftentimes we even hear our pets walking, after they're gone, without explanation.
Strange coincidences can even occur~ your pet's name was Sasha, you by chance flip on the tv and by chance "All Dogs Go to Heaven II" is on and the main character's name is Sasha (this really happened to me).
We cry, and cry and cry some more.
We sometimes swear off 'getting another one,' knowing that our beloved pet was special in some way... 'irreplaceable.'
How do I know all of these things?
Because I've been there, done that, felt that, more than once, for my own pets.
But I need to share something with you, something I hope provides you the comfort it provided me after losing my most recent pet, Thalia.
It's a different perspective on your pet's mortality.
If you're reading this blog you likely know that I worked for a few years in two different municipal shelters. However I have never shared on this blog that I had to perform euthanasia weekly when working at one of the shelters. At that particular shelter the Animal Care Specialists were rotated once/weekly in the euthanasia room. For the first 6 months of my employment I was able to avoid this horrid assignment. It took time to circulate through the state-mandated euthanasia certification course. Co-workers with whom I had started working were eager to get their certification saying things like, "Well I feel bad for Susie or Mandy because they're constantly in euthanasia since not many of us are certified; It's only fair that we get certified so the same people don't always have to do it," or, "When a sick or injured animal comes in on second shift and one of us is the only one here it will be a relief to be able to end the animal's suffering."
Those may be practical and fair-minded points but I could never relate to this way of thinking. I begged my manager to not make me go through euthanasia certification. I told her I didn't know if I'd be capable of doing it. My pleas fell on deaf ears for the most part, eventually I could avoid certification no more.
Having to euthanize innocent, typically healthy, cats and dogs for an entire shift one day a week was excruciatingly horrific, even more so than you can imagine.
There were the bubbly, friendly, tail-wagging, chin-licking, young lab or pit mixes- they'd burst into the euthanasia room so full of energy and joy, thrilled to be out of their kennels 'going on a walk.' These were the dogs that would wag their tails throughout being held in the restraint position, that would be licking your face, seemingly smiling, as you pulled off to locate the vein, their tails would wag until the blue juice would make its way from the vain to the brain to tell the tail to stop wagging. The tail would stop its joyful thump as the heart would beat its last few beats. Innocence, youth and joy cut to a screeching halt... horrific.
Mommy cats with litters of nursing kittens, we'd always euthanize mommy first so she wouldn't hear her kittens cry out.
I remember one litter in particular. I brought a small dog bed into the euthanasia room. After euthanizing friendly mommy cat I laid her in the small dog bed in as natural position as possible. The kittens were too tiny to locate a vein so I had to inject blue juice directly into their bellies (common procedure but this is painful for the kittens and it takes longer for them to die). I laid each kitten with its mommy; the kittens rooted to find a nipple to nurse on their mom's lifeless body. Horrific. The only relief I found in this sight was knowing that the kittens would die quicker nursing off of mommy. Horrific.
There was the 3 month old puppy that had been returned for being 'aggressive' that my manager insisted we euthanize, even though I offered through tearful pleas to foster the playful pup. I did not personally euthanize this puppy but it hurt just the same.
There was the dog China I had worked so hard to find a home for, had succeeded, only to have the couple return her a week later because she had chewed up their kitchen floor. I had named her China because she had somewhat squint-y eyes... a pretty, petite, brindle pit mix. At this point in the shelter world it was typical to euthanize a pet for being returned, this was circa 2007 and the euth rate was still around 65%. I did not personally euthanize China but it hurt just the same.
There was Rocky, God bless his soul, that I had worked with daily. He was a black and white border collie too smart for his own good. He was a fence jumper. He was so damn smart. This dog trusted me and my co-worker so that he obediently and calmly held his paw out as my co-worker located his vein. The minute the blue juice hit him he jerked, looking deceived. Rocky was so smart that he knew death was being delivered intravenously. He's the only dog I've ever seen to fight euthanasia once the drug has hit. It works so fast that pets typically don't even know what has hit them; Rocky was different. He knew. He tried to 'shake it off.' It haunts me to this day and it will until the day I die.
Pets may defecate themselves as they die.
Once hearts stop beating pets are put into big black garbage bags- every single day of the week, month and year all around this country.
They're then put into a freezer that smells like death. Their lifeless bodies wait there for the garbage men to come get them once or twice a week to take them to the city dump.
I could share dozens more stories about innocent, happy, healthy, homeless pets being euthanized but I will not. That's not the purpose of this blog.
How did this affect me personally? How could I do this? -You may wonder.
I cried daily. I had nightmares almost every night. I would sob each and every time I was in euthanasia; my manager tried to console me saying, "You're the normal one Jessica. It's normal for you to feel this sad. The rest of us are weird for somehow being able to disconnect in order to euthanize these animals."
I wrote a lot. I have a plaque with many of the beloved pets' names written on it.
I fantasized about dying myself. I wrote a will of sorts, saying that, if I should die I wanted to be placed into a big, black garbage bag and taken to the city dump in a dump truck. And I meant it. I thought, if I died and the story of me being thrown into a big garbage bag and taken to the dump were to air on CNN and would shed some light on euthanasia of homeless pets my death would not be in vain. I truly was willing to and wanted to die in a way.
I wondered what right I had to live when all of these innocent babies were being killed day in and day out.
Clearly euthanasia was not for me. I lasted about six months and quit, then continued on as a volunteer. I couldn't handle that aspect of the job any longer.
Why am I sharing all of this in a blog titled, "Putting Your Pet's Mortality Into Perspective"?
I'm sharing it to put your pet's mortality into perspective.
Your pet knew love.
Your pet had a home.
Your pet had you.
Your pet hopefully even managed to live a long, happy life.
Hopefully your pet did not suffer but if it did, it did not suffer alone. It had you.
Your pet had a safe and comfy place to sleep at night.
Your pet didn't have an embedded collar, was not neglected, full of ticks or hairless with sarcoptic mange. Your pet wasn't pregnant and dumped because of it.
Every single day the majority of municipal shelters in our country euthanize cats and dogs, every single day. This is a harsh and unfair reality for millions of cats and dogs each year.
Every one of these animals is a unique and special being. Every single one has a story and a personality. What's sad is that most of them die without their story being known or told or their personality being discovered by anyone. They die by injection in a cold room with a radio playing and, more often than not, without anyone to love them or even know to care that they're getting ready to perish.
I know this is morbid. I know it's sad. But this knowledge and life experience helped me put my most recent beloved pet's passing into perspective. I mourned Thalia deeply for a few weeks but then was able to move forward. I still think of her nearly every day but not with sadness. Honestly I would feel guilty to feel sad for my sweet girl having passed. She had a loving home when she was alive.
I feel sad for the ones that are homeless in a shelter at this minute. I feel sad for the ones that will die tomorrow in a euthanasia room, many whom are young, friendly and healthy.
One last thing to contemplate: there are so many homeless cats and dogs. If our cats and dogs lived for 20 or 30 years they're be even more homeless pets because no one would need to adopt another pet until their pets die... does that make sense? I know it's far out there but this is written by a former shelter worker. Pets are not meant to live forever because there are too many without a home... waiting on a home... many being killed before they find one.
So mourn for a few months to a year, but then please, go save a life in memory of your sweet baby. Trust me when I say that is what your pet would want you to do. Please believe that.

...I hope this helps on some level.

picture of elderly dog taken from softhearted.wordpress.com

~Dogs Need to Walk~

Dogs don't need narcotics, or a nice cold beer to take the edge off,
Dogs don't need to lay on a therapist's chair to vent,
Dogs don't need to sit in a jacuzzi or sauna to bring on relaxation,
Dogs don't need a private retreat to some far off place to disconnect,
Dogs don't need to meditate or pray or do yoga to feel zen,
Dogs don't need an enormous network of support to not feel lonely,
Dogs don't need to have a buzzing social network or to be constantly on the go to not feel bored-

What dogs need is a nice, long walk.

The End.

Baby Sam, Cheech, Bella, Llorón and me on our daily walk.

Modern Shelter Design- why it may not be better for the dogs

Kennels constructed of wire fencing from the ground up, hard concrete floors, drafty, noisy, hot in the summer, cold in the winter, smelly... could there be a less appealing environment for shelter dogs?
If we use our imaginations of course we can come up with potentially worse environments for shelter dogs.
However I'd be willing to bet that most of us wouldn't envision glassed-in private dog 'suites' as being a worse option for them.
That couldn't possibly be worse than the smelly, dilapidated place the shelter dogs are in now.
Or could it?
6 months ago I wouldn't have given much thought to this subject, mainly because I had never spent time in a 'new age design' shelter.
A few months ago that changed; once settled in after moving back to Louisville, Ky from Miami, Fl I began volunteering at my local municipal shelter, which happens to be a shelter I worked and volunteered at years ago.
Rumor had traveled all the way down to Miami years prior about how Louisville was constructing a new, state of the art adoption center. I felt hopeful for Louisville dogs upon hearing the news yet also a twinge of concern. My concern was for the dogs at the 'old location.' What about all the dogs there? Would anyone go to the old shelter or would they only visit the new, fancy, publicized one? The new facility design was never a concern for me. I didn't think much of it. I knew about the glassed in rooms for dogs; this was the way most new shelters were being designed and I had only heard praise regarding the construction.
After spending a little time each week socializing dogs at the new shelter I've concluded that I cannot offer much praise for this new design concept.
The shelter is more human-friendly for sure- it doesn't smell, it's not noisy, you can walk through and browse at the dogs, seeing them in a home-like environment.
I'm not so sure it's shelter-dog-friendly though. If you're a dog is there anything worse than not being exposed to fresh air on a regular basis? The dogs in these rooms are isolated.
This is my opinion and only my opinion: after working and volunteering for years in shelters I believe that dogs begin suffering the effects of constant confinement more quickly when housed in these glassed-in rooms than when housed in kennel runs that allow them constant access to fresh air.
In the few months I've been volunteering at the new shelter here I've seen dogs showing signs of severe emotional distress and going 'kennel crazy' after only a couple of weeks in their glassed in enclosures whereas the emotional and mental deterioration time for dogs in traditional kennels was typically around 4-8 weeks (large degree of variance depending on dog's disposition, breed, etc.).
Again, this is based only on my personal experience and is my opinion, nothing more, nothing less.
Another bothersome factor about this design is: these glassed in rooms mimic traditional pet store settings.
"How much is that doggie in the window, woof-woof?" -Remember that little tune about a dog in a pet shop window?
Pet stores have always used that glass front to lure in 'customers' to 'buy' their 'product-' dogs.
Could designers and architects really not come up with anything better than over-sized, pet store replicas?
I'll share a quick story:
Stacy, we'll call her, is a dog I met and took out to socialize 2 weeks ago. 2 weeks ago she walked very well on her lead to the play yard, she was playfully and sweetly interactive with the dogs on the other side of the play yard, she was highly affectionate, docile and loving with me, grateful to be out, just had an overall delightful disposition.
Yesterday, 2 weeks later, I visited Stacy anew. She was lunging/throwing herself at her glass door to get out of the room, once I maneuvered into her room it took quite an effort to leash her (she was overly exited and hyperactive), once outside she ran up and down the fence repetitively and interacted negatively with another friendly dog on the other side of the play yard fence. -She calmed down after 20 minutes or so but was still highly anxious; it made me feel very, very sad for her. She is not the first dog I've seen with these extreme signs of severe emotional distress and, again, the deterioration seems to occur much more quickly for dogs being housed in these little glassed in rooms.
Bottom Line: if you're able to assure your shelter dogs are being walked/socialized at least 2 times a day (this can be challenging for shelters to guarantee due to lack of volunteer help at times) and that they're being adopted/leaving the building and their glassed-in rooms for good within a few weeks, then go ahead with this modern shelter design; it is better for the dogs and guests under these circumstances but if you cannot guarantee this for your shelter dogs then they're better off in the old, dilapidated, fenced in runs most of us are familiar with.
Lastly,I am fully aware that most likely no vet would agree with me on this because of the disease factor, I get that. But... emotional and mental disease can be just as horrific as physical disease... for humans and dogs. But again, that's just my opinion.

Note: Since writing this post I'm pleased to say- the shelter where I volunteer has obtained a lot more volunteer support. The dogs are enjoying ample time outdoors now, being loved on and socialized. The dogs seem content and happy since they're getting out often enough! Shelters across the country always need volunteer help- do your part! :)

Humane Euthanasia of an Aged or Sick Pet

The decision to euthanize a pet is extremely personal and difficult.
When contemplating euthanasia of a beloved pet, you may feel the urge to discuss it with a few trusted individuals. Discuss if you wish but do so with caution.
When my dog of 9 years recently fell very ill I discussed my pet's condition and possible euthanasia with a few individuals, one, a veterinarian friend.
One person actually questioned my decision to euthanize (once I had decided to take my pet, Thalia, to be put to sleep that following day). He immediately caught himself saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to question your judgement on this."
But that brief lapse of judgement on this person's part made this terribly challenging situation and day even more challenging and painful for me, even if it was just for a minute. I immediately felt compelled to justify why I was electing to have my pet put to sleep... mentioning the fact that she had stopped eating, was off balance, was having trouble breathing, could barely walk, had begun having accidents in the home. This was expending unnecessary energy on my part and energy was something I had very little of, the process of losing a pet is exhausting, among other things.
Electing humane euthanasia for a pet is so personal that you need tell no one. It's ultimately between you and your pet and your choice to keep it that way.
Another challenge I faced regarding pet euthanasia was: denial.
My girl, Thalia, had been on prednisone, an excellent drug for inflammation, (she had a large mass on her throat) for a month and a half. At first the drug worked wonders for her.
Upon taking the first dosage the difference was like night and day; she went from barely being able to breathe and refusing to eat anything to breathing comfortably and having her old appetite back! I deemed it a miracle drug and felt relief and gratitude.
After a few weeks she began labored breathing once again and she was becoming more of a finicky eater. It was a downward spiral from there.
The day prior to having my pet put to sleep I texted my vet friend saying, "I'm not so sure about keeping Thalia on prednisone. Don't you think being on a steroid long-term could be having a negative effect? She's off balance, isn't breathing well and doesn't want to eat again."
He replied saying this, "Steroids at low doses are pretty benign and dogs usually tolerate them well. I would suspect that whatever disease your dog has is getting worse and the problem is not the pred."
We texted back and forth a bit more but, for me, that was pretty much all it took to realize I had been in complete denial for those past couple of days. Here I was trying to blame Thalia's deterioration on the drug rather than the disease.
"Sounds like you should start considering euthanasia. It doesn't sound promising," were the words that delivered the final necessary blow. Hearing that from a vet was important for me.
Anyone considering euthanasia for a pet should be so fortunate as to have a vet that they trust completely. Another positive aspect of discussing euthanasia with a veterinarian is that: they're basing their opinion on knowledge of the pet's condition and their medical expertise oppose to an emotional aspect of attachment to the animal, provided it's a trustworthy vet.
Although I suspect many vets prefer not to direct their clients on how to proceed in regards to pet euthanasia. You make their job easier if you're certain in your decision to either: keep fighting for your pet til the very end or to elect to end its life of suffering and sickness.
Some individuals even choose to perform surgery on pets that are very old and/or sick. I've known a few. That decision is between them and their pet. For the record, I've seen surgeries or treatments work wonders and give the dying pet a new lease on life and I've seen these options fail, only causing more anguish at the very end of a pet's life. It's a gamble, like anything in life; the good must be weighed against the bad.
For me I asked myself, "Jessica, how would you feel if you were struggling to breathe, couldn't bear to eat, were nearly too weak to stand, much less walk, choosing to isolate yourself from your family and stay alone because you felt so terrible? And... if you could go peacefully and painlessly without losing the very little dignity you've got left, would you want to do that?"
"Yes," was my answer and I knew Thalia's answer would be yes too.
Fortunately my girl only endured a couple of days 'at her worst.'
Was the process very painful? -Yes.
Do I feel a sense of peace knowing I did what's right for my pet? -Absolutely.
Do I miss her like crazy and feel a big, gaping hole in my heart? -Yes.
Will it heal and become bearable with time? -Yes.
Bless you should you find yourself in this situation. It's not easy.
It has helped a little to remind myself repetitively that my pet had a good life and was loved.
I've seen so many pets succumb to the animal shelter euthanasia needle over the years... when they're far too young, far too healthy, far too energetic and ready to give someone a thousand kisses, but instead they're killed because no one wants them and there's not room to keep all of them.
I've known so many delightful, young, healthy pets that have been senselessly sacrificed that it's disgusting and horrific. I will carry that with me to my own death bed.
So, this time I experienced euthanasia on a whole different level, a level of allowing my pet freedom from her earthly bondage.
This time, as heartbreaking and sorrowful as it was, euthanasia lived up to its definition: the painless killing of a patient suffering from an incurable and painful condition.

Thalia, left, with Cheech