There are so many animals in need for adoption that it’s really hard to believe that so many people frequent pet stores. We humans as a race have done a lousy job caring for the animals we claim to love. We let so many unwanted ones hatch, and then we just put them to sleep when they get inconvenient or dump them on the side of the road.
If you are thinking of getting a new companion animal, I would suggest if possible that you think about getting one of the adoptable animals to care for. After all, you’ll still have all the benefits of caring for a pet, plus you’ll be making a significant difference in an animal’s life.
There are many more animals for adoption than animals for sale. Fortunately, if those animals are small, fluffy, and cute, there’s a much better chance someone will take them home.
The situation is very different for adult animals or creatures that have had difficulties. Even traditional pets like cats and dogs become much less popular once they get older. This is one of my adopted animal stories.
I live on 28 acres and have a small herd of mini goats. On a trip to Knoxville, I took a boy to UT large animal vet school, stopped at Sam’s Club for a walk while the vets spayed the boy. This is in a very busy part of the city, with a lot of traffic.
And as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, a dog, who was obviously in pretty bad shape, came to the door as if for help.
Now the last thing he needed was another dog. He already had two at home, one of which absolutely hated any other animal that came into his domain, even though at one point he was a stray who adopted us. So I went to the store and bought dog biscuits. When I came out, the dog was gone.
I hate to admit this, but I was relieved. That was until I looked into the parking lot of the adjacent mall and there he was, this time following an older couple, who were walking through the parking lot.
I drove to the other lot, having mixed feelings about getting involved in this poor dog’s life. When I got out of the Explorer, he immediately came over, as did the man and the woman. We talked about him for a while, while I fed him dog biscuits.
They were debating whether or not to take him home and I was encouraging them to do just that. But in the end, they decided against it and moved on.
Now what? She couldn’t just walk away at this point, she’d already looked into his eyes. With a little help, she climbed into the back of the Explorer and, fully intent on taking it to the animal shelter, we drove to UT to pick up the goat on the way.
The girls there, residents and students, looked and decided to treat their wounds, which were many. There he was, surrounded by strangers, hurt and hungry, never offering to growl or bite. He lay down on the table with his head in the crook of my arm, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. He never moved when they gave him a shot of Novacaine or something, so they could clean and stitch up some of his wounds.
He never opened his eyes until it was time to go. I got the address of the no-kill animal shelter and headed out. When I arrived, they were still closed and one of the volunteers told me through the window, that they couldn’t take it anyway, because he had just picked it up,
I needed to have had it for at least 10 days. She told me how to get to the city shelter. So I left again. It had just started to rain when we arrived at the city animal shelter, and I left him in the vehicle and went inside. I spoke to a very busy and overworked woman, they were cleaning cages at the time. I just had to ask, what were the chances of him being adopted? The woman smiled and said that they were fine right now, as long as he wasn’t a completely black dog.
I started to walk out the door into the rain on the leash he had given me, almost at the same time the tears began to fall. When I opened the door, I saw a totally black dog sleeping in the passenger seat, not a white spot on it, no tan, no other color, just black. I sat there for about 15 minutes, trying to think of what I could do next. I was imagining the ruckus when I came home with another dog. But then, I made up my mind, I jumped out the door, ran into the building, handed her leash back, and said thank you, but I just can’t do it.
Well, that was over 5 years ago, August 2001, and Sam, I bet you can figure out how he got his name, is sawing logs a few feet from me in his normal position, face up with feet on the ground. air. The UT doctor volunteered to have him neutered for me the next week, just because everyone else fell in love with him too, and because I had gotten him off the street.
Yes, Wicket, named after the cute little Ewok from Star Wars, what a misnomer, still hates him for breaking into his house, but we managed to keep some peace. After a month or two of recovery, I realized that I should have named him Tigger, because he jumps all over the place. If you know Tigger’s song, which goes “bouncy, bouncy bouncy,” that’s him. And even though the vets thought he was about 9 months old when I picked him up, he had a tremendous growth, taking him from a hungry 30lbs to almost 80lbs and gained about 3-4 inches in height. He really he is quite a dog. And he’s not completely black anymore, now there’s a little thin line around his lips, gray in color. Like a skinny little mustache.
I wish everyone had a Sam story. There would be far fewer dogs euthanized each year at shelters. And almost every area has a place that will help you when it comes to injections and castration. Adopting an animal is truly the best way. If everyone did that, puppy mills would go out of business and many animals would be spared from leading totally miserable lives.