The mechanics of pulling a dog

When rescue groups take dogs from public shelters, it’s called “pulling.”  There are many factors that determine when we pull a dog and which dog to pull.  It’s an art rather than a science, but there are some rational considerations that shape these decisions.  We are working on developing a fuller set of guidelines, to make the process as clear and transparent as possible.

To that end, we’d like to let our volunteers and friends know what the current guiding factors are and also ask for your suggestions, questions, and wishes to help us develop a fuller and clearer plan.

Before we get to specific guidelines for pulling that we might develop, here are some things to remember about our organization:

- We are an all-volunteer group.  No one does this full time.

- Each dog we add generates work and costs far beyond the obvious.  Each dog needs vet visits, food and supplies, rides to events, training and socialization, Petfinder listings, Facebook posts, and much more, and all of those needs make work for lots of different people.  Every dog requires a lot of volunteer time not just from the foster but from the folks doing fundraising, replying to emails, updating Petfinder, staffing events, and so forth.

- One of our goals is to save as many lives as possible, but we have additional goals that take up volunteer time as well, including education and advocacy work, training, shelter support, and other projects that, in the long run, contribute to better lives for dogs – but that, in the short run, place some limits on the number of dogs we pull. 

- Who decides?  Decisions about adding dogs are made by our five-member board of directors (required as part of our 501c3 status), but we are a fairly decentralized group and other volunteers have lots of input into every aspect of what we do.  We try especially to make sure we check with the people who will be most affected when a dog is added.  Thus we might say "no" if the foster coordinator or event coordinators are feeling overwhelmed, even if there is a spot available.  Or we might say "yes" when a long-time foster wants to us to pull a dog and offers to foster the dog as an "extra."  It's an art, not a science.

With that in mind, what are the factors that enter into the decision to pull a dog?

- Total number of dogs in the program currently.  We’ve found that once we approach 30 dogs, the logistics of events, supplies, etc. get difficult.  20-25 seems to be a good number.

- Mix of dogs in the program currently.  We usually have some dogs in treatment for heartworm or another condition who aren’t quite ready for adoption.  Among adoptables, we like to have a mix of puppies and adults and males and females, as well as a range of ages, sizes, and personalities.   This is important for adopters, who often have a particular kind of dog in mind.  If we’re especially heavy on boys at a given time, we may prefer to pull a female, or if we currently have a lot of dogs in treatment, we may want to pull one who’s ready to be adopted. 

- Shelter of origin.  As a breed rescue, we pull from a number of local shelters, including Alachua, Bradford, Clay, Gilchrist, Levy, Orange, and Putnam counties.  We try to support them all, and we try to have dogs from a range of those shelters in our program.  There are different reasons to pull from one or the other.  Alachua is by far the easiest to work with – it’s local, they vaccinate and heartworm test on intake, and they do good temperament tests and answer all our questions.  However, they have a much lower kill rate than any other shelter we work with, partly because there are more rescues working in Gainesville than other places.

- Available foster homes.  Very few fosters can take just any old dog.  Most have restrictions, based on their own pets and human household, their schedules, the size of their home, their location, whether or not they have a yard, etc.  Thus we may have a foster available who can only take a dog- and cat-friendly adult male dog, for example. 

- Foster juggling.  Often we have to move dogs around, because a foster is moving, or their home situation changes, or the placement isn’t working out, or the dog has finished treatment, etc. Juggling foster homes is really hard, because few fosters want to give up one who’s settled into their home, and we hate to move dogs around more than necessary.  Sometimes we have a dog who needs a new foster home, and an available foster home that can’t take that particular kind of dog (e.g., maybe the one in need isn’t good with cats). In those circumstances, we may pull a new dog even if there’s one who needs a new foster.  We prioritize the needs of our current dogs, but we don’t want to refuse to add an appropriate new dog when there’s a spot available that wouldn’t work for another one.

- Finances.  Dogs from rural shelters are more expensive than ones from Alachua County, because they need more testing and vetting.  Dogs with health conditions are more expensive than healthy ones – not just because of the vet care, but also because they end up staying longer.  And there are always surprises, such as medical emergencies.  Our budget is extremely limited and we can’t take in too many expensive dogs at a time.

- Special circumstances.  We love all dogs, but we love underdogs in particular.  We try to give a chance to dogs who otherwise wouldn’t have one.  That means we prioritize victims of cruelty and neglect, dogs with heartworm and other treatable health conditions, and dogs at high-kill shelters.

 So how do we decide when to add a dog?

We can add a dog when our numbers are not too high, when our finances look solid, and when we have an open foster spot.  Sometimes this happens because we get a new foster.  Sometimes it happens because a dog is adopted and the foster says “I”m ready for another!” 

When that happens, we look for a dog at risk of euthanasia who is a good fit for that foster.  Several different volunteers get lists of dogs at risk at many shelters on a daily basis, and we try to keep likely dogs in mind.  We have several volunteers who visit shelters to temperament test for us, and they go knowing exactly what kind of dog is going to work in the space available.  They give us as much information as possible, we consult with the foster, and if it all looks good, we pull the dog.

In addition, there are a couple of other scenarios that sometimes lead to us pulling a dog, when someone brings a particular dog to our attention.  The board still approves the decision to add the dog.

Sometimes we get a request from a shelter volunteer or staff person who has fallen in love with a special dog.  When that happens, we try to meet the dog to see if she or he is a good fit for POPB.  If so, we try to recruit a new foster home. 

Sometimes a foster asks us to pull a particular dog to be placed in her/his home.  We will do that if the dog has a great temperament, our numbers aren’t too high, our budget isn’t too stretched, AND the foster promises to commit to the dog until adoption.

We hope this helps clear up some questions you might have had, and that you’ll tell us what you think we should prioritize, factors we haven’t mentioned here, and anything else that will help us help more dogs!

Stella

Here's the first in a series of posts about fostering and adopting some special dogs, beginning with the story of Stella, as told by her mom JoAnna.

I got very very lucky. I knew I wanted to foster as SOON as I was in an apartment of my own (my entire family did their best to dissuade me, stating that there was no way I could foster without trying to adopt my dogs. I was determined to prove them wrong - after all, I was in no position to adopt a dog at this point in my life! But I still needed to help somehow so I would foster and foster only).

I had always liked pit bulls (even though I never had much personal experience with them...although I made a mask in elementary school that was supposed to represent my interests and it had a feather, a Friesian horse, and an APBT on it) and since POPB seemed to be the only large-dog only rescue in the area I wanted to go with that, since I wanted to avoid small dogs at all costs. But I had seen a lot of nice seeming posts by Phoenix and someone I knew fostered for them, so I decided to go with them since I really wanted to get involved with a nice community comprised of sane people and that is what they appeared to be on the outside. As I was about to fill out the app for them, I got a very nice email from Rachel, encouraging me to submit a foster application. It was this email that saved me from falling into a horrible horrible situation, and I think almost weekly about how lucky I was that I was sucked into the wonderfulness that is POPB instead of another, less desirable rescue.

First, I was assigned to Annie. As luck would have it, dogs needed to be moved around and Pat didn't want Annie going anywhere until it was to her forever home so I got reassigned to Stella. I cracked up because I'd stalked Petfinder hard and I was aware that I went from the least pit bull-y looking dog possible to the most pit bull-y looking of our lineup. I found a cat that week that I was supposed to get her and I tried to delay getting Stella because she was not cat friendly. Luckily, Katie offered to house the cat for me until her people could be located (no such luck) or a home found. After much difficulty arranging a time to get Stella from Lacey (this was during my pre-car days), Lynne dropped her off with me. I brought the little wild thing up to my room and tried to decide if I should allow her on the bed. Stella solved that problem for me by making it the very first thing she did. (Since then, I can't sleep comfortably in that bed without Stella as my pillow/foot rest/space heater.) Stella sat up on my bed, offered me her paw, and smiled reaaaaally big. That was when I knew it was going to go well.

5 months later, her holiday foster wanted to adopt her. I was an anxious wreck for WEEKS trying to decide if this would be a good situation for her and trying to decipher how much of my hesitation was due to me being an overprotective first time foster mom and how much was legitimate concern. The wonderful team at POPB took my concerns into consideration and we eventually came to the conclusion that Stella would not be staying with her. As time passed, more and more evidence came to light that we absolutely made the correct decision. Not many rescues would take so much care to see if a home was worth it, especially for a difficult to place dog, and not many would listen to the foster home as carefully as POPB does. One night (while Stella was still with her temp foster/at that point possible adopter) I found out a little black pit that I had saved from traffic had been euthanized at ACAS (I tried to house the dog here but Stella was not having it and at that point I did not know how to manage her nearly as well as I do now). I sobbed and sobbed and did not have Stella with me to comfort me. That felt so wrong. Months later I would think back on a horse, Honey, that I had loved (and lost) in a similar situation to my current one with Stella (she was in no way mine and I couldn't make her mine and her future was uncertain because decisions about her were not mine to make) and Stella came over and gingerly climbed up on my lap and licked my tears and between my sobs I told her that I couldn't let her go. But I was lost because I knew that my future held extended trips out of the country to countries that would not allow pit bulls. I didn't know what to do. Lots of stress and fruitless begging of family members and periodic bouts of panic ensued. Sometime in this time period I would start to slip up and call her "my dog" instead of "my foster dog" and friends were shocked that she wasn't actually mine and my family members called her "JoAnna's dog."

Fast forward 11 months from the day that I started fostering her, and I got a phone call from my mom that I needed to go home, get Stella, and call her. She wouldn't tell me the news until I was with Stella. When I found out my dad had died, Stella was the only one there to comfort me. In the next few hours, she was as attentive and gentle with me as any human could have ever been. When I met up with the rest of my family, Stella not only comforted me but also did her best to show everyone some much needed unconditional love.


 At one point my brother pointed out that Stella was shaking because I was, and everyone noticed that she would sit outside of the bathroom door, staring at it, as I showered, and that she invariably slept with as much of her body touching me as possible. The night before the funeral, my mom told me that she could not watch me go through what I went through with Honey again and that Stella was a "forever friend" to our family from that point on; I immiately wrote the board. My mom called up her landlord and told him that she was moving out because he didn't allow pets and she would have a granddog living with her soon (he told her he was going to make an exception for her until she told him the breed....knew I always hated him for a reason), since her daughter was going to Australia. She told all her siblings that they could expect to live with a pit bull when she/they go to take care of my Grandma, even though they have terrible close-minded opinions of pit bulls typical of the Detroit area. You'd think after 11 months of Stella not killing me in my sleep (as they predicted) they would be less judgmental, but nope. They need some immersion therapy with the real thing for that! She has already converted my uncle...the rest will follow suit.

I LOVE how my entire immediate family likes Stella and considers this a gain not just for me but for all of them as well. Chris constantly would cuddle her and must have told her what a good dog she was 20x in 5 days. As soon as Karl read about the murdered ACAS puppy he came right over to Stella and scooped her up and professed his love for her and the breed over and over and over, and then told Stella a bed time story about the time he carried a 45 lb pit bull named Tiny 5 miles out of the Hawaiian jungles on his shoulders after she was injured by a boar. Mary let Stella in her car and come over to her apartment without a crate and even let her onto her couch (a big deal for her). Steffi is overjoyed at having a new sister and can't wait to play more music to her and be silly with her. And my mom babies Stella more than anyone, even though the prey drive/reactivity is something completely foreign and intimidating to her. She is taking every opportunity to learn about management and actually listens to my explanation of behaviors (most people do not) and before anything else makes sure Stella is comfortable and happy and knows how much of a good baby she is. I love more than anything when those I love appreciate each other, and this is one of those cases. While Stella is in many ways the opposite of the black lab we had for 15 years growing up, she is becoming just as accepted by my family and that makes me almost as happy as Stella herself does. Stella is not without her challenges, which also means that I get to grow in my understanding of behavior and training and dogs in general as we work together on these things. I am very excited for a future with her.

Plus, I justify to myself, what kind of photographer can grow without a beautiful muse with soulful eyes for inspiration (who may or may not work for hot dogs).

                                                                                           - JoAnna Platzer

The Story of Wilson

Who's Wilson?  Our icon, muse, and favorite eye-patchy smiler.  You see his face everywhere, but you might not know how he came to be the charismatic face of Plenty of Pit Bulls.

We asked Wilson's mom, Julie, to share the story.

One day back in January 2012, as we driving through our neighborhood, we saw a white dog skulking along the side of the road. He had a funny 'swingy' gait (sort of s-shaped, like a snake). We didn't stop as we just assumed he was 'attached' to his owner who was down the road somewhere. Then the next day we saw him again as we were out walking our two dogs - he was way ahead of us, turning a corner. We stopped to chat to a neighbor who said they had also seen the dog as it had camped out in their back yard the night before (they are not dog people, so they didn't go out to see him). So now we knew he was a stray.

Wilson, the night Julie and Craig found him

Another day went by without another sighting and we think he must have been found by his owner. But then on the third day, my husband saw him again while he was out running and when he got home, we decided we had to go get this dog off the street. So we set out, my husband driving, me in the passenger seat with the treat bag. It took an hour before we finally got the dog to stop when we got out of the car, rather than run away. It took another 15 minutes before we managed to get close enough to slip a lead around his neck (he would not go in the car). No collar, no tag, our only hope a microchip.

We finally get him into our back yard by throwing treats ahead of him and keeping hold of that lead. By this time it's 7.30pm on Saturday night. The vet is closed until Monday, ACAS is closed until Tuesday - he is clearly staying the night.

We decided to leave him outside in the yard so we didn't have to deal with him 'meeting' our two dogs. That didn't work. I was so worried he'd get out, I kept popping up every half and hour to see if he was still there - he was, in the same place every time, curled up in the dirt by the back gate. We decided that in the interests of sleep we should get him in the kitchen. Another 30 mins later we finally persuade him inside (my how the tables have turned, these days he will always choose the comfort of the AC over hanging out in the yard).

I can't totally remember the sequence of events from here but we took him to the vet and established he had no microchip, then posted pictures of him all over the place.

Nothing.

So we call ACAS on Tuesday and they come and get him. We watch them put him in the van, a bit teary eyed, and make sure to get his ID number so we can keep track of him over the next few days.

Nothing.

It's now Valentine's Day. As 'luck' would have it, his is 3-day hold is up, he's passed his temperament test but failed his health test (heartworm), which means he's going to be euthanized. Urgh.

Wilson in his Valentine's Day ribbon

My husband is away so I call him to discuss the situation. We agree we cannot let him die.
I send a message to the rescue from whom we had adopted our last dog.  No reply, but someone called Anna jumps in and tells me that they have no spare fosters but if we would be willing to foster ourselves, she can arrange for him to be 'pulled' (lots of strange lingo in those early days).

Well. I absolutely did not want a third dog - even temporarily - but I couldn't see any alternative.
So on Wednesday February 14th 2012 I go to ACAS to rescue a dog. He is wild looking, filthy dirty and hyper. I felt like I'd bitten off more than I could chew (not a concern he shared, naturally).

That night, with this strange animal in a crate in the kitchen and my other two dogs sniffing furiously under the kitchen door, I sit down to watch Bridesmaids. I'm at the bit where the maid of honor is on her sofa watching 'Castaway'. Tom Hanks is drifting out to sea on a raft - and he wakes to realize that his only friend, Wilson the football, has come loose from the raft and is bobbing further and further away. 'Wilssssooooooon'.

And so he was named - Wilson - the castaway.

First week was a nightmare....

- Rotating dogs between house and yard, so we could introduce them the slow way (thank god that worked - he LOVES the two girls, though they wouldn't notice if he left tomorrow LOL).

- Trying to walk a wild animal who had clearly never had a lead put on, let alone been taken on a walk (he leapt and bound like a deer, dragging me behind him for a block before I decided enough was enough).

Right away we started doing adoption days (we were more than keen to revert to a two dog household) - only that was even more of a nightmare. He lunged and snarled at the other dogs from the moment he got out of the car at 11am until the moment he was put back in at 5pm. I spent hours standing by his crate, ready with the water spray, but after several such Saturdays we decided this wasn't the best place for him to be - too stressful for all concerned.

And so he became a social media dog.

He got lots of fans and lots of likes on his posts - but for some reason an entire year went by and nobody filled out an adoption form (I have come to believe he was writing spells during this time to conjure up a foster failure).

Then Anna got a spot at Petco for adoption events and we decided to try him again because he'd been doing so well at the Sunday training classes (courtesy of his amazing advocate, Kristy Schmidt). It took one weekend of being in Petco -- with Wilson being an angel in his crate and giving me the big eyes, as if to say "Mum - are we really having to do all this all over again?" -- for us to decide we'd rather spend our Saturdays hanging out with him on the patio than hanging out with him in Petco.

And so it came to pass that Wilson was officially adopted on April 1st 2014 - and is now living happily ever after in an air conditioned house in the Duckpond with his two sisters - what one might call a successful foster failure conjuring.

Happy Days from here on in

And fame to boot.

                                                                                                 - Julie Knox

Why pit bulls?

All kinds of dogs has many people who love the particularities that make them special.  What makes us want to help pit bulls in particular?

It’s really not that they are better than other dogs, though certainly we are all pretty sure that our particular pit bulls might be the best ever.

But just loving your family members doesn’t make you an advocate.  What is it about pit bulls that turns so many people who know and love them into activists?

First, they are the most in need.  Anyone who volunteers with – or just visits – public shelters in our area quickly realize that a large proportion, often a sizable majority, of the dogs in need of rescue are pit bull types.

But need alone isn’t enough to make anyone commit.  There has to be something positive as well.  And pit bulls have lots going for them: their huge smiles, their goofy senses of humor, their constant need to be THISCLOSE to the people they love, their eagerness to figure things out, and their optimism about the future.

Granted, lots of dogs have those qualities.  Possibly the most important thing about pit bulls is the gap between the lovable, ordinary dogs that we know and the fear, hatred, and discrimination that they often face. 

Lots of people love Golden Retrievers, or Cocker Spaniels, or St. Bernards.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  And no one ever tells you that you’re brave, or foolish, or even thuggish because you love your dog.

It’s different with a pit bull. 

Your activism might start the first time an apartment complex prohibits your family member, or someone crosses the street to avoid your happy, outgoing dog, or a relative tells you to keep your pit bull away from your new baby, or you discover that you can’t take a road trip through Denver because your dog could be taken away from you.

You start out telling your mom not to worry about the baby, or telling your neighbor “he’s friendly,” and before you know it you’re a full-fledged pit bull activist.

The best part about pit bull advocacy is the dogs, of course.  But after that, it’s surely the people.  And that’s because what holds us together is not anger or fear, but love. 

A Short History of Plenty of Pit Bulls

How we started....

Plenty of Pit Bulls got its start in 2010 with a small group of volunteers connected with our local public shelter, Alachua County Animal Services (ACAS) and private rescue organizations. We started looking for ways to increase the number of pit bulls rescued and adopted in our area.  We were very loosely organized, but we looked for ways to help by initiating pit bull specific events and programs at the shelter and elsewhere, providing information about pit bulls, and making it possible for rescues to pull pit bulls from the shelter euthanasia lists by recruiting foster homes and providing sponsorship.  We often paid the pull fee – back in those days, ACAS charged rescue groups the same as adopters to pull an adoptable dog – and back in those days, ACAS euthanized far, far more adoptable dogs than it does now. 

And where did that name come from?

“Plenty of Pit Bulls” is a riff on the term “plentiful pit bulls,” which was a program offering reduced adoption fees for pit bulls at the shelter.  The author of that immortal phrase is Hilary Hynes, the shelter’s education coordinator and one of our favorite people in the animal welfare and rescue world.

                 Hilary Hynes, standing with ACAS alum (and cruelty and heartworm survivor)
                  Teddy and his proud family after Teddy passed the Canine Good Citizen Test.

POPB resisted getting very organized for a couple of years.  With so many outstanding rescue groups in Gainesville already, we didn’t see a need to create a separate rescue group.  We figured our energies were best used in strengthening and expanding the capacity of the existing rescues. 

In early 2012, we decided to take the momentous (had we only known) step of registering as a Florida nonprofit corporation, to have legal status as a community organization.  The Florida incorporation made it possible for us to take the next step: pulling dogs directly from the shelter ourselves, rather than collaborating with other rescues. 

Our first pull was, ironically, not a pit bull at all, but a retriever-y looking black mutt whom we named Tucker.  He was placed on the ACAS euthanasia list in spring 2012 and when no other rescue took him, we decided to plunge in.  Beginner’s luck meant that he was adopted almost immediately by a fabulous young couple.  They changed his name to Gatsby, because he is so great.

Still, most of what we did was provide support for other rescues in the area, to make it possible for them to save dogs whom they otherwise wouldn’t have been able to take.  We collaborated with many groups, including the Alachua County Humane Society, Second Chance, Helping Hands, Puppy Hill Farm, and more.  And we continued to have strong ties to ACAS and the staff and volunteers there. 

That collaborative experience stood us well, and we continue to team up with other rescues and shelters whenever possible.  We think this is one of the things that makes POPB special.  We know it takes many pieces to save a dog, and sometimes the missing piece is something that we don’t have, but someone else does – or vice-versa.  Our collaborative radius has expanded, but our commitment to having a big tent remains the same.

While most of our dogs were still placed for adoption by other rescues, bit by bit we added dogs of “our own.”  Some of the early ones included the Ella the Pit Bull Princess and our first cruelty case dogs, Roxie and Opie (Opie was adopted through HHR).  We also started working with volunteers at other shelters.  Our first non-Alachua pulls were from Levy County, including one of everyone’s all-time favorites, Harper.

Because we grew into being a full-fledged rescue group slowly, we learned a lot by trial and error along the way.  We ended up doing a lot of things that we didn’t really intend to do when we started – like pull dogs on our own, work outside Alachua county, and apply for 501(c)(3) status.  We grew organically, expanding our scope because we saw gaps that we could fill and because we had volunteers who could make it happen. 

We were and still are all-volunteer.  Our early volunteers were all people who had been working with other shelters and rescues but had a special love for big-headed dogs.  As we solidified, we started to draw new volunteers who were attracted to working for a pit bull specific rescue. 

This growing corp of volunteers made it possible for us to help dogs from a growing number of shelters.  In January 2013, we pulled our first dog from Putnam County Animal Services, a severely emaciated, scarred, and heartworm positive red girl named Nova

 This was a very meaningful pull for us because Putnam County has a long history of discrimination against pit bulls.  They used to euthanize all dogs that their staff identified as pit bulls automatically, and then they changed their policy to allow “pit bulls” to be pulled by rescues.  They still do not permit them to be adopted directly by the public.  This is the kind of discrimination that kills dogs – not only by reducing their chances, but also by placing them in a separate category that makes them seem different from other dogs. 

We have a soft spot not only for pit bulls, but for dogs from cruelty cases.  Since Roxie and Opie, we have taken probably dozens of dogs from ACAS cruelty confiscations, including two of our favorites, Ronny and Izzy.   Ronny was adopted by his foster mom Hagar, a vet student, and Izzy found a fabulous home with a law student.

We could help dogs like Ronny and Izzy because of the relationship we have with the Veterinary Community Outreach Program (formerly Shelter Medicine) at the University of Florida.  There is no way that we (or most of the rescue groups in our area) could function without this program.  They spay and neuter our dogs and also provide care for a number of common health issues, including demodex and heartworm.  They also visit other area shelters, and sometimes they identify wonderful dogs that they would like to help.  We’ve gotten some of our favorite dogs this way – we call them “Isaza specials,” in honor of VCOP vet Dr Natalie Isaza.

                                          
As we grew, we realized that our lack of 503(c)(3) status was limiting our options in terms of adoption venues, grant opportunities, donations, and more.   In May 2013 we applied for 501(c)(3) status, and about 13 months later we got the approval letter from the IRS.  It felt like Plenty of Pit Bulls was finally all grown up.

Soon after we received the 501(c)(3) status, we began to work on our first national cruelty case.  367 dogs were seized from dog fighting rings in August 2013, in the second largest fight bust in US history.  The dogs were divided up between the ASPCA and HSUS to be cared for while the legal case.  POPB volunteers worked closely with the ASPCA to place as many dogs as possible from this case.  Our first #367 dog was Arabelle, who was released early (in October 2013) due to health problems.  She was adopted by her foster mom Sharon Nataline, a POPB founding board member, and lives the good life with a home full of geriatric chihuahuas and other big personalities.

                       
We ultimately were able to take in and place 17 of the #367 dogs, more than any other rescue in the country.  Most of those were adopted locally, but two crossed state lines to find very special homes – Finn in New Jersey and Ruby in Illinois. 

In May 2014, Orange County Animal Services took in several dozen several dogs from a fight bust in Apopka.  When the dogs were legally released in August of that year, we were able to take in several, including rock star Olivia, who is now an official Canine Good Citizen and a registered therapy dog.  

                    Olivia's mom Caroline is one of our many adopters who have gone from falling
                        in love with one particular pit bull to becoming whole-hearted and creative
                                             advocates for big-headed dogs everywhere.

One of the reasons we initially shied away from becoming a full-fledged rescue organization was that we were worried about not having time to do other activities, such as education, advocacy, and shelter support.  While there is never enough time or money to do all we would like, we’ve found that rescuing individual dogs can reinforce and strengthen those other activities, and vice-versa.  Dogs like Arabelle, Olivia, Ronny, and Ella are the best possible educators and marketing geniuses.  They change minds and open hearts just by being who they are –  affectionate, smart, outgoing, resilient, and somewhat goofy blockheads. 

And some of the volunteers who are first attracted to the opportunity of working with individual dogs in a hands-on way often become interested in helping spread the word about how wonderful these dogs are, how cruel breed discrimination is, and how fun and rewarding it is to work in a community of like-minded dog-lovers.

Dog fighting

Dog fighting happens.  It happens less often than some people fear, but far more often than many of us wish.  Dog fighting, like other “blood sports,” has been part of many different cultures around the world, for many centuries.  In his fascinating book Dogs: A Dictionary of Dog Breeds (2002), Desmond Morris lists 27 different breeds that were selected, bred, and used mainly for fighting, including not only most of the “pit bull” type dogs (American Pit Bull Terriers, American Staffordshire Terriers, Staffordshire Terriers, Bull Terriers, and American Bulldogs) but also Japanese Akitas, Chinese Shar Peis, and many mastiff type dogs from all over the world.

Morris writes, “Dog-fighting is a dark chapter in the history of man’s long relationship with the canine world, and there may be some who feel that those breeds that were exclusively developed for fighting should not be included in a modern reference work such as this one.  But the fact is that they were part of dog history and cannot be ignored (340).  More specifically, fighting is part of the history and also the present of the particular dogs that we know and love. 

Presently dog fighting harms tens of thousands of dogs, mainly pit bulls, every year in the US.  It happens all over the country, in rural, suburban, and urban areas, and with participants from many different socio-econ groups.  It certainly happens in north central Florida, and shelters and rescue groups regularly receive dogs who show signs of having participated in organized fighting.  (It’s important to note, however, that of the many dogs who show up at shelters badly injured, few were likely used as “bait” dogs.  Some were, of course, but there are many ways that dogs get hurt, including ordinary fights between “non professionals,” so we should be careful about leaping to conclusions about the history of any dog, especially those encountered as strays.)

Today local and national law enforcement authorities take dog fighting very seriously and often pursue it vigorously – both for the animal cruelty involved and because dog fighters are frequently involved in other crimes as well.  In the past couple of years, the FBI and other law enforcement agencies have worked with national animal welfare organizations (especially the ASPCA and Humane Society of the US) on several huge raids on dog fighting rings.  The largest, in Missouri in 2012, took in over 400 dogs, and the second largest, in several southern states in August 2013, took in 367. 

Not long ago, all dogs seized in raids were euthanized as soon as their legal role as evidence was finished.  Today, many are evaluated individually and treated as victims and not criminals.  This change in policy is due largely to the efforts of pit bull advocates involved in helping the dogs from Michael Vick’s fighting ring, including BAD RAP and Best Friends.  Individual evaluations and rehabilitation efforts have made it possible for many dogs from fighting backgrounds to become beloved family pets, therapy dogs, canine athletes, and more.

Pit bull rescue, and the rescue of dogs from fighting rings in particular, is the edge of animal rescue and welfare today.  Pit bull type dogs are discriminated against in part because of their perceived association with dog fighting and other criminal activities, and pit bull advocates need to address these associations head on and show – not just argue – that these dogs deserve a chance. 

Our own experiences with dogs from fighting backgrounds have been positive and often surprising.  Almost all have been extremely human-oriented, affectionate, and outgoing – which is not the surprising part, since in that regard, they are typical pit bulls.  What is surprising is how easily most have adjusted to life as family pets and also how well many of them get along with other animals, including dogs and also cats.

Work with dogs from fighting backgrounds reinforces the wisdom of treating ever dog as an individual.  Some dogs from fighting pasts are timid around new people or reactive with new dogs — but not any more than other dogs we meet.  The same is true of dogs that we’ve taken from cruelty cases and confiscations.  They all respond to trauma differently, and making generalizations is not accurate — and it doesn’t help us get to know the dogs or help them.  What defines a dog is not “all how they’re raised,” in other words, but a combination of nature, nurture, and ongoing care and management.

While vigorous law enforcement is crucial, the other key to ending dogfighting is education. The most effective educators, of course, are the dogs themselves.

Northward Bound

A couple of the dog books I’ve read lately have addressed the transport of shelter dogs (mostly puppies) from mostly rural shelters in the south to private shelters in the northeast.  Both the authors are journalists living in the New York area who adopted puppies relocated from the south.  One, Kim Kavin’s Little Boy Blue, is focused entirely on the story of how her dog Blue got from North Carolina to New Jersey.

The other, John Homans’s What’s a Dog For?, discusses the background of his dog Stella (from Tennessee) as one piece of a larger discussion on contemporary humans’ relationships with dogs.  In their discussions of the transport movement, both authors raise some important and difficult issues about dog rescue, breed identity, and more.

 Homans calls the transport movement “The Great Migration.” a catchy but inaccurate term.  The movement of dogs from south to north (or as Homans puts it, from red states to blue states) is not really migration as much as a redistribution of resources.  Some authors use the term “underground railroad,” again catchy but inaccurate, since the transport network is not illegal, as was the movement of slaves from south to north.  Nor is moving dogs around an act of civil disobedience, although it can certainly be seen, at least from some perspectives, as an act of protest against shelter conditions, the methods used to kill dogs in some counties, and the scale on which the killing occurs.

Both books (published in fall 2012) sold well and were generally well reviewed, and Little Boy Blue has won several awards.  I found both smart, interesting, and ultimately unsatisfactory.  Part of my dissatisfaction came from the fact that neither author dug deeply enough, or thought hard enough, about the larger questions raised by their own dogs’ histories and the larger transport movement.  The biggest issue, perhaps, is raised by a Pennsylvania activist quoted by Kavin.  After pointing out that over 70,000 dogs entered Pennsylvania shelters in 2009 alone, she asks “Why the hell are these rescue groups bringing more into the state?”  In other words, is it ethical to transport puppies hundreds of miles to places where thousands of other adoptable dogs are already waiting for homes?

Behind this big question lurk a host of more specific issues, including the fact that transport spreads disease and the fact that the whole movement is largely unregulated, decentralized, and thus ripe for abuse.  All of these issues deserve attention (and to her credit, Kavin does address the last issue in some detail).  I want to focus here on two questions: one about geography and another about breed.

Regarding geography, both Homans and Kavin take for granted that there is a clear-cut and dramatic clash between northern and southern culture regarding the treatment of dogs, as most other issues.  As Homans puts it, “Most fundamentally the dog market is an ongoing transaction between the red states and the blue states, and it’s based on the same basic differences in core values that make our presidential elections so dramatic.  The flow of dogs, in general, is from south to north, and from flyover country to the coasts.”  Homans’s New York-centric view of the world, including a casual contempt for people who live anywhere but the coasts, is hard to stomach.  Both he and Kavin find southerners to be a foreign species, radically different from those in the civilized north in every respect, including their attitudes toward dogs. As Homans summarizes, “In many places in the south and west, a dog’s life just isn’t worth as much as it is on the coasts.”

Homans’s view of the south (based on his visit to Tennessee to see the shelter where his dog Stella came from) is a combination of Mayberry and Southern Gothic.  Most importantly, he believes all southerners live on small farms, which is the root of southern attitudes toward dogs: “The dog belongs on the farmyard, and the farm belongs to the farmer, and that’s the way it’s always been.”  Homans apparently does not know that a large and growing proportion of southerners live in cities.

 

Homans’s perceptions of the South, which Kavin echoes (albeit with less disdain), only harms dogs by making it harder to build bridges, to educate people, and even to identify the real problems.  Animals are abused and neglected in every part of the country, including New York  and Boston as well as Tennessee, California as well as the Carolinas.  The world does not (thank goodness) divide neatly into callous farmers and responsible Manhattanites.  There are callous New Yorkers and dog-loving farmers – and the vast majority of Americans are neither farmers nor New Yorkers. Most important, the large majority love dogs and want to do right by them.

Homans's unquestioning embrace of stock images of southerners is a result of a larger sloppiness about sources, data, and the generalizations to be drawn from them. This is evident as well in his attitude about breed.  He and Kavin both accept without question the (apparently) common wisdom that first, the vast majority of available dogs in northeastern shelters are pit bulls – or as Homans puts it, in New York, “mutts that aren’t part pit bull are from red states.”  Second, both Homans and Kavin assume that these “pit bulls” are not going to be adopted by ordinary people looking for family pets – including themselves.

Here is Homans’s discussion (or dismissal) of the New York Animal Care and Control website of adoptable dogs (or, as he puts it “the condemned animals”): they “are mostly alert, young, healthy-looking pit bulls (at least they look healthy in the pictures), either strays or dogs surrendered by their owners.  Most of them peer at the camera with the pit’s distinctive look of confident inquisitiveness – adorable.  The pictures were, of course, hard to look at, one reason I didn’t look at them."

Homans never explains why his family did not bother even to visit NYACC but instead chose a puppy imported from Tennessee. His Stella arrives as a young pupy and grows into a large, short-haired, high-energy adult.  Charming as Stella appears, nowhere is it clear how she differs radically from the New York-born “condemned animals” he could not bear to view, let alone visit or consider adopting.

(On a side note, the notion that Stella is mostly Labrador Retriever is oddly important to him, although he never mentions having had her DNA tested.  He spends a whole chapter on the breed origins of Labradors, even though his faith that Stella is a Labrador appears based only on visual identification – and in terms of behavior, he points out that she does not, in fact, like to retrieve.)

Kavin offers a slightly longer, though no more satisfying, discussion of breed.  Pit bulls, she says, “are so difficult to place with families because of stereotypes about the breed.”  (This comment comes up in her discussion of the Northeast Animal Shelter in Boston, which she describes as a “utopia,” other than the fact that they refuse to accept dogs they label as “pit bulls.”)   Pit bulls, she points out, are often wonderful dogs, victims of unfair stereotypes.  Surely this plight is not too different from the earlier plight of mutts and shelter dogs, as she describes it:  “Shelter dogs have been unfairly maligned for years as less valuable or less worthy than purebreds, when in fact they are often wonderful dogs like Blue who have simply found themselves in a tragic situation."

The image – and thus the life prospects – of shelter dogs has changed dramatically in recent years.  Many dog lovers in the northeast and elsewhere, including affluent professionals like Homans and Kavin, head first to the shelter or a private rescue for their pets.  This preference for rescued, usually mixed-breed dogs, is not an accident.  It is the result of concerted efforts by animal advocates to change perceptions about shelter dogs and also about the "purebred" dog industry.  Most Americans no longer see mixed-breed dogs or shelter dogs as inferior or damaged, and a large percentage of Americans – not just on east and west coasts – head directly to rescue groups or shelters when they are ready to add a dog to their family.  (And they are also increasingly willing to adopt adult and even senior dogs, another change from a couple of generations ago.)

Given the successful transformation of attitudes about shelter dogs, the next obvious step would be to take on the destructive stereotype about pit bulls.  Many groups have done this directly, and there are countless excellent models for successful campaigns, by nationally known groups such as Animal Farm Foundation, Stubby Dog, and BAD RAP.  And perhaps even more effectively, in many places – including southern towns like Gainesville – pit bulls are increasingly seen as ordinary dogs.  This shift has happened without much deliberate effort, simply because there are so many of these dogs that almost everyone knows one (or many) and the frightening stereotypes do not survive the reality.

Why, then, do Kavin and Homans take for granted the notion that “most people” will not even consider adopting a dog labeled a pit bull?  I asked Kavin about this directly in an email, quoting the Pennsylvania activist in her book who criticized the transport network.  In response to my question, Kavin wrote:  “She [the Pennsylvania advocate] believes that if only rescues would stop bringing cute beagles, terriers, and Labradors from the shelters in the South, that more people would adopt the pit bulls in the shelters in the North. I just don’t believe that’s true. I don’t think that people want 'any' shelter dog. I think that people want the kind of dog that they want, and that if they can get it from a shelter, fine. If not, then they’ll go to a breeder.  Do I think that’s fair to pit bulls? Of course not.  But I do think that it’s the present reality.”

Even if it is true that “people” just don’t want pit bulls, the moral response to injustice is not simply to throw up one’s hands in resignation.  (Imagine if advocates from other movements, ranging from women’s suffrage to civil rights, had been this sanguine about their "present reality.")  However, I don’t believe it’s true that people “want the kind of dog they want.”  Or rather, the kind of dog they want can change, when they have accurate information, positive experiences with both dogs and rescue organizations, and plenty of support before, during, and after their adoption. Kavin gives in way too quickly – fortunately for the dogs, many other people don’t.

So what's a dog lover to do?  Our shelter behavior group recently discussed this issue, and we all agreed that, first, it is never a bad thing for a dog (or any animal) to have a chance.  The transport movement has given a future to thousands of dogs who would otherwise have died before their lives had even begun.  And many of us in the group had in fact "transported" ourselves -- helping dogs from Gainesville get to rescue groups elsewhere, for example, or pulling dogs from rural shelters in surrounding counties, where the euthanasia rates are much higher than in Alachua County.  These transports, however, area almost always of adult dogs who are already on euthanasia lists, due either to overcrowding or to health conditions such as heartworm or demodex.

All of us had trouble embracing the transport movement in any unambivalent way.  While we talked about a number of problems (including the spread of disease), in the end what bothered us most about the transport movement was the fact that it creates a de facto caste system, with life or death as the result. Well-intentioned people dedicate truly enormous resources to save certain dogs without even a passing thought at other "condemned animals" much closer to home.

As Kavin points out, her little brindle puppy Blue was certainly not any less deserving than purebred dogs sold by breeders -- or even than other puppies fortunate enough to be born in the northeast ... and to be fortunate enough to look "the right way," to be "the kind of dogs people want." In the end, it's the willing acquiescence to injustice that makes both books so disturbing.

And on the other hand, it's the willingness to challenge injustice that makes many other dog advocates so inspiring.

Share the (foster) love

We love, love, love our foster families.  Without them, we couldn’t do anything.  A good foster is worth her or his weight in gold and most rescues will do everything possible to make fostering a good experience so it continues.  Like all volunteers, fosters do what they do for love.  They don’t get paid for their time or inconvenience, and many go above and beyond the minimum.

Most foster parents are amazing, generous, committed people who do everything they can to make things work well.  They know that the other folks working for rescue groups are also volunteers, with jobs, family commitments, and their own pets (and often foster pets as well).  They know, in short, that we're all in it together, and that we can only achieve our shared goal of helping animals if we all treat each other with respect, patience, and friendship. 

The majority of wonderful fosters more than make up for the occasional difficult experiences – which usually result not from bad intentions but from people committing before thinking it through completely.  To make things even better, here are a few tips that can help reduce the challenges.  Most rescue groups have gotten a call from a foster saying “come get my dog.  Now.”  Usually this is because the dog is more difficult than the foster anticipated, and they don’t have the patience to wait for things to get better. 

When you get a dog straight from the shelter, you need to be prepared for surprises and for a transition period that can last several weeks (or more).  Your foster dog may never have lived in a home before.  She or he may never have had kind treatment from humans, may have been on a chain or in a pen and unable to socialize normally with other animals, may have been hungry or abused, or may just be very confused and scared.  Please do not offer to foster if you are not able to cope with common issues and problems with patience and a sense of humor.

Most problems can be resolved if you are consistent and patient. However, if you are going to throw in the towel the first time your foster dog howls when left alone, growls at your own dog (or vice versa), or has an accident in the house, then please do not volunteer to foster!  We would love to have you volunteer in other ways that are less stressful for everyone concerned.

Perhaps the most common reason that fosters want to return their foster dog is issues with their own dogs.  We recommend giving it at least two weeks before you give up!  During this time, please keep the foster pet separated from your dog(s) and follow our instructions for carefully managed interactions.  We have had good success with slow introductions even for dogs who were reactive and growly at first.  It’s hard for your dogs to accept a stranger into their turf, and it’s scary for the new dog to try to fit in.  If you are not willing to follow instructions and stick it out for a couple of weeks, then please do not try fostering.  The same goes for other common issues, including house training, leash walking, jumping up, etc.  If you follow instructions and it still isn’t working out, we will find a new foster home – but it may not be immediate.  Please keep dogs separated during this time and we will do our best.  We cannot always work miracles, but we try.

Remember, there is no backup home.  If you really have tried everything and cannot keep your foster dog, we will do our best to find a new foster home but it may take time.  Please understand this before you commit to fostering.  (The exception is when we take a dog from a current foster to try in a new foster home.  We do this especially for fosters with cats.  We can arrange this, but otherwise we take dogs from the shelter’s euthanasia list directly to the foster home and there is no backup.)

Okay, now for the happy part.  First and foremost, we love you.  We want you to be happy and we want you to keep fostering.  Please let us know whenever you have questions or concerns, about health, behavior, or anything else.

To keep you and your foster dog happy, we try to supply everything you need, from food and crates to advice about training and behavior.  We often arrange for playdates or group walks if you’d like your foster dog to socialize with other dogs in a controlled environment.

And finally, a few requests (you knew this was coming).

First and foremost, talk to us!  We want to know if you need more food, if you are worried about that red patch on your foster dog's back, or if you are about to lose your mind because he won't stop harassing your cat.  We can't say it enough:  we are more than willing to do what it takes to make this work, but we need to know what's going on.  If you talk to us, we promise that we won't judge, we won't ignore you, and we won't take away your foster dog (if you don't want us to). 

All the other requests are really more specific versions of "talk to us."  For example, we need you to tell us about health concerns -- and we need you not to take your foster dog to the vet without first getting approval (unless it is a life threatening emergency and you cannot get in touch with us). We also need you not to take your dog to off-leash dog parks without checking first.  Dog parks can be great fun but they can also be dangerous.  We cannot afford vet care or a lawsuit if something goes wrong!  Some of our dogs are experienced and well-socialized and do great at the dog park, but not all are ready for it.  Talk to us!

And as a corollary to talking, please listen to and follow instructions.  Don't second guess us about exercise, food, medicine, or other issues -- the rules are there because of past experience, not an arbitrary desire to be bossy.  This means you may not be able to do everything with your foster dog that you do with your dog. For example, do not let your foster dog off-leash in any other setting besides a fully enclosed yard or dog park.  No exceptions, no matter how calm and well-behaved the dog is.  It’s not worth the risk of having your dog hit by a car, attacked by another dog, or lost.  For similar reasons, please don't start or stop medicines, change a training routine, or otherwise alter your dog's routine unless we have talked about it and agreed.  You live with your foster dog and know her/him well, and we are happy to learn from you -- but at the same time, we need you to be willing to learn from our experiences (and understand that we are the ones who have to pay the bill or deal with other unpleasant fallout when things don't go well).

As always, we will try to work with you to make the situation better.  Please be patient with us and with your foster dog.  Did we mention that we love you?