Let's start with full disclosure: I used to work for the BC SPCA, I'm a lifetime animal lover and I would never buy an animal from a pet store when thousands - no, millions - of animals languish in shelters across this continent.
There. Now you know my evil agenda.
I was saddened to read the recent story in the Delta Optimist about an Abbotsford family whose application to adopt a puppy was approved, and then rejected, by the Delta Community Animal Shelter. I felt bad for the family, who had their hearts set on an eight-weekold husky/shepherd mix named Cooper.
But I was more dismayed by the family's remark at the end of the story: "I'm not going to go through a shelter again. It's not fair to him."
The "him" is a reference to the couple's young son, in whose care the puppy would fall the majority
of the time.
According to the story, the shelter revoked its earlier approval of the adoption application because the son was too young to provide so much care to a puppy of unknown parentage. Further, not all dogs are suitable for homes with children and huskies are "known to push physical limits and use body strength to rough house."
I don't know exactly how DCAS assesses each application for adoption, but I'm near certain that, similar to the BC SPCA, staff are not merely searching for a good home for the animals in their care; they are searching for the best home.
And I know the sting of not being the best home. Many years ago, I applied to adopt a young basset hound from a Surrey animal shelter. I rescued this puppy personally when I stopped four ways of traffic to scoop him up from the middle of the busy intersection he had wandered into at the behest of his puppy-induced, tongue-flapping, tail-wagging euphoria. Yet neither my heroics in rush hour traffic, nor my thoughtfully written adoption application that noted my previous experience as a dog guardian meant beans, and I was flatly turned away.
A couple of career moves later, I worked alongside the very people
who make these difficult decisions, and learned that the long hours spent at my job and my unfamiliarity with the hound breed were most likely the factors behind my rejection. Sure, I would have provided a good home. But it wouldn't have been the best home.
DCAS has one mandate, and that is the care and protection of animals through successful adoption placements. DCAS and pretty much every other shelter and rescue organization in operation today call these "forever homes." It's a sugary term probably abhorred by most English teachers for co-opting a noun into an unconventional adjective, but it says what it needs to say. Adoption should be forever.
In the case of Cooper, a mistake was made when the family was told their adoption had been approved. I suspect the folks at DCAS were of the mind that it would have been an even bigger mistake to place Cooper in a home that their research, instincts and experience told them wasn't the best.
If back-yard breeders and pet stores that sell animals had the same level of due diligence, we wouldn't have as many homeless animals or need as many animal shelters.
To borrow a slogan from the BC SPCA: Adopt. Don't shop.
