by Marin Hummel

Animal shelters are no longer becoming the place to find “your new best friend.” The slow economy has been taxing on all, even pets. Today, people are volunteering to give up their pets due to the rough economy. That reality is rough. Some animal shelters are up to an 80 percent kill rate. Other no-kill animal shelters are filled to capacity and are forced to turn away animals and their owners because there is no room for more animals. More pets are being taken to public shelters, not due to poor behavior, but because their owners can no longer afford to care for them. The extent of this problem is impossible to measure, because their owners abandon them on the streets or do not give a reason for dropping them off at the shelters.

“We instinctively knew we were getting more animals and pet quality animals. They were being dropped off, tied up and left in boxes with notes,” says Ricky Whitman, from the Pasadena Humane Society & SPCA.

The Pasadena Humane Society & SPCA alone had more than 16,000 more animals in its shelter in 2007. “We are an open-door shelter, so we are required by law to take all the animals that are dropped off,” Whitman says. With such an increase in animals in the shelters, they have set up an economic emergency plan. They have expanded the cat ward to house an additional 80 cats and rearranged the dog kennels to house an additional 25 dogs. They have also taken on more staff to care for the animals. For the public, they have a food bank, and they work with homeless shelters and rescue agencies to make sure the right people are getting food for their pets.

Pets that are being left homeless are putting such a strain on the shelters that the Humane Society has started a nationwide Foreclosure Pets Grant Program to help animal control agencies, shelters and the pet owners cope with the tough economic times. The grants offer $500 to $2,000 to non-profit animal rescue groups who need help financially to stay afloat. The grant was started last March. Of the 133 groups that have applied, only 11 have been granted financial aid.

Shelters usually euthanize animals that are found to be unsuitable for adoption. Shelters put their animals through tests to find how social the animals are, and to identify any problems future adopters should know about. This has not been the case lately. Shelters are being forced to euthanize animals solely because they have no room to keep them. They are over-crowded and don’t have the funds to house and feed them.

Another growing problem for the animal shelters is that donations have dropped significantly. Shelters rely mainly on donations. It costs about $10 a day per animal that the shelter houses, and adoption fees cover only about 20 percent of the shelters’ costs. Without the financial support of the community, animal shelters will not be able to afford the animals that they are housing.

Due to these problems, the Los Angeles Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) has been forced to close down two of its shelters. Even with this problem becoming better known, only about 14 percent of pets in the United States are being adopted through animal shelters. Most animals are being purchased from stores or through breeders. If people would make the conscious decision to adopt their pets from local animal shelters rather than purchase their pets from a breeder or store, these problems that the shelters are facing would diminish. People who are looking into surrendering their pets due to lack of funds may wish to consider alternatives before they take that drastic step. There are many low-cost veterinary clinics and animal food banks that they may wish to take advantage of in the community. Other organizations, such as HOPE (Helping Out Pets Everyday) are taking steps to not only get animals adopted, but are working to alleviate some of the problems shelters are currently facing. HOPE adopts pets from the local Upland Shelter and houses them with one of its volunteers. Doing this takes the strain off the shelter and socializes animals through foster homes.

HOPE holds weekly adopt-a-thons at the Petsmart in Upland. These events give the public a chance to learn more about the shelter and speak to vendors. AVID, an animal microchip company, is often on-site as well.

Support your local rescue organization. Save a life today.

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Gary Puckett plays with his companion Riley Riley on “his bench” at the San Dimas Dog Park. Gary has been taking Riley Riley to the park since it was opened, and donates to the park as well. / photo by Steven Bier

by Dan Sayles
photography by Steven Bier

While the nearby hills and parks have been places for citizens to get away from the busy cities, their dogs, no matter how big or small, have often been discouraged from tagging along. The acres of citrus groves where dogs could once romp have been replaced by streets and neighborhoods. That’s okay for the occasional walk, but sometimes a dog needs a good stretch of open field in which to run.

Things began looking up for dogs in July 2005 when residents of San Dimas came together and organized the city’s first dog park in Horsethief Canyon Park. The acre-and-a-half section of the park is fenced off and divided in half for owners and their dogs to exercise and socialize. Two sections were created so that smaller dogs can be separated from the bigger, stronger canines. Benches line both sides of the park for everyone to use. The grass is mowed and watered frequently.

Also located throughout the park are water fountains, with one spout for the owners and another for dogs. Park-goers rely on an honor system for picking up after their dogs before leaving the park.

“The community is kept close together with e-mail,” says Carol Smith, one of the organizers who worked with the city to get the park approved. She says that the e-mail listing for the San Dimas Dog Park and its users is estimated at around 1200 subscribers. Smith walks out of the dog park around midday, after walking around the park with a bucket, picking up leftover tennis balls from forgetful owners before the weekly maintenance on the park takes place. Smith is one of the more than 30 Dog Park Ambassadors, a group of organizers dedicated to maintaining the park.

On a pleasant Tuesday morning, a small group of dog owners are at the park talking with one another and watching their dogs play. Odin, a young German shepherd, sticks his ears straight up.

“He’s only a pup,” says Kat, his owner, who’s nicknamed him Fruit Bat. “We’ve been taking him here since early spring. We brought him here to get used to other dogs.” Odin is given plenty of attention by a black pug named Vader and a sandy white pug named Leia. Odin freezes, suddenly unsure of what to do. Not far away, two shelties walk around curiously. One, called Princess, stays close to her owner, Carol Chaplin, who is sitting on a bench and talking with other dog owners.

“I’ve been coming here since early spring,” says Chaplin, a University of La Verne alumna. As she talks, Charlie, her other sheltie, walks under the bench and lies down. Charlie was a rescue dog from a pet store that had placed him in a 15-gallon aquarium tank. As a result of growing up in such oppressive quarters, Charlie’s tail was bent during his growth. Now, at around 10-and-a-half months old, Charlie’s tail is slowly beginning to grow out properly.

Each section of the park works for the specific type of dog it caters to. Smaller dogs such as pugs, shelties and chihuahuas, are well suited by the small section of the park that has a long rectangular area with trees planted along the side. The section reserved for larger dogs has a narrow area where the dogs and their owners can walk, with a large area nearby where the dogs can run around, making Tom Merril and his Labrador, Diesel, happy.

“He’s a big dog. He can knock you over if he wants to, like a linebacker,” Merril says, as Diesel finishes running around the yard. After a few laps, he collapses and relaxes contently next to Odin, who seems to be more at ease with the chocolate labrador.

The San Dimas Dog Park provides a clean, large area where dogs and their owners can exercise and stretch their legs. Dogs can work on their social habits, which can be a bonus for owners with single animals that do not go out on walks and interact with animals and people very often.

“The dog park is the best thing to happen here,” Carol Chaplin says with a smile.

photo by Steven Bier

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Shasta is a golden retriever that was rescued by my aunt, and lived for a year with my grandmother before winding up with my parents and me. My mom reminded me that the dog had been through several homes and that it may take some time before she would feel confident that she finally had a permanent home.

Eventually, Shasta did calm down. Still, as I turned into the Horsethief Canyon Road toward the San Dimas Dog Park, I felt a surge of doubt. This was another entirely new situation for her. She’d only been around three people and one dog consistently throughout her life. What would she do in a park full of other dogs and people?

I kept her on the leash as we walked up to the entrance. I was amazed at how calm, yet eager Shasta was, and also at my own silly apprehension over the situation. This was a simple dog park, after all, not the prom.

A youthful, curious basset hound named Gus greeted Shasta at the gate, and after a bit of fumbling with her collar, I turned Shasta loose. She promptly ran toward the owner of the basset hound, who greeted her with a smile and remarked “You’re a good girl!” Even I had to smile, surprised at how well Shasta was behaving on her very first outing with strange people and dogs alike. I walked to some shade and watched her explore her new surroundings.

After this initial bout of salutations and introductions, Shasta paused, then came running back to me, jumping and seizing my arm in her mouth in a sort of needy, “What do I do now?” sort of way. I expected Shasta to be rowdy, not suffer a case of social anxiety. After a few moments consoling her and leading her back out to the large expanse of grass, she resumed her running around.

Before long, however, she began to grow weary. Despite the long walks with my father and me, she still hasn’t gotten enough exercise to romp around for very long. She came running back and sat next to me, indicating she was ready to go.

In fact, she was so eager to go that, in her haste to get back to the car, she slid out between the gates before I could get her leash on. Finally, after much fumbling around, I got the collar around her neck and led her back to the van, where she assumed her position on the passenger seat and relaxed with her head resting on top of the seat. She stared at me with a proud, “Haven’t I been a good dog?” look.

Of course, the answer was yes. I rubbed her head and sighed, and said to her, “You irritate me sometimes, but you’re a good dog.”

She promptly gave my arm a wet, slobbery kiss. Thanks mutt.

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