to comprehend the emotional chaos and realism that tests
the spirit of a German Shepherd rescue coordinator. Unless, you've been in
the trenches day in and day out and listened to your phone ring virtually
any time around the clock, you don't have a taste for what these dedicated
ambassadors of their breed experience.
For La Tour, it's been a decade of heartbreak and
frustration, intermixed with success. "I wish I could see some
progress, but our numbers just don't seem to be dropping.
"It gets discouraging," laments La Tour, who has
enjoyed only one vacation since 1992. "I went to Wisconsin for a family
reunion in 1992. I was gone for a week and came back to 23 phone calls. I'd
be lying if I said rescue wasn't on my mind while I was gone."
In fact, La Tour's fate had interceded even alongside a
lake in the midst of her reunion. The owner of a lakeside motel where the
families were staying had approached the group with a bounding,
unleashed-you guessed it- German Shepherd. "Anybody know anyone who
wants a German Shepherd?" she had asked. "I couldn't believe
it," recalls La Tour. "1 just couldn't get from it."
In 1988, this mother of two young girls had been encouraged
to assist with German Shepherd rescue and told it would probably take only
three hours a week. Thousands of hours and a decade later, she's the
linchpin of Seattle Purebred Dog Rescue, the nation's premier all-breed
rescue organization. LaTour seldom loses her focus on shepherds.
"They're never off my mind," she explains.
Asked if she's thought about quitting, La Tour replies,
"Oh, yes, for a few seconds. But I keep thinking of all those dogs that
need my help. And who else would do it?" Even her closest friends
wonder why she hasn't yet succumbed to burnout, which is the No. I cause of
volunteer loss. "She lives and dies for that breed," says Lyn
Bingham, former SPDR president. "I don't know anyone who has given so
much to a breed. Shepherd leaders owe her big time."
Bear
was fostered and adopted by Lisa Antonucci, Framingham,
Massachusetts, foster care coordinator for German Shepherd Rescue of
New England. |
Like the state patrolman who has heard almost every excuse
imaginable from speeding drivers, La Tour has listened to them all, too:
"Too big."
"Don't have the time."
"Wrong color for our remodeling."
"Sheds too much."
"Too expensive to feed."
While no one maintains national statistics, the shepherd
has been either No. I or 2 on Seattle Purebred Dog Rescue's most-unwanted list over the past decade. It lost its grip on the
top spot to the Rottweiler in 1995 and '96.
The numbers and excuses can be overwhelming. "No
matter how much you do, it's never enough," says the exasperated La
Tour.
A couple of years ago she remembers checking out a
3-month-old shepherd that had been surrendered at a major Seattle area
shelter. "How much of a chance did that poor dog have? La Tour asks.
"What's worse are those who get rid of a family pet of
six or eight years, simply because they are moving. Are you telling me they
can't find a place that will take them and their dog. If they loved that
animal, they could. When you see those poor, bewildered dogs in a shelter,
they must be wondering what they did wrong. In most cases, it's
nothing."
La Tour's devotion-some might call it marriage-to rescue is
viewed as paranoia by some. "It's gotten to a point where my only
friends are dog people?' says La Tour, who finds herself nursing
frustrations and fantasies nonstop. "They're the only ones who
understand why I've acquired emotional scars from all of this. And even some
of them don't."
THE BREEDER CONNECTION
While a large percentage of the dogs La Tour sees are from
rapid-fire litters of backyard breeders, the number crunch can also be
attributed to mainstream "respectable-breeder" kennels.
Until recently, German Shepherd clubs in the Seattle area
hardly acknowledged La Tour. "I know which kennels most of the dogs I
see in animal shelters come from. For a long time, these people didn't want
to face me. They felt they weren't part of the problem."
That chasm has been narrowed somewhat during the past two
years. In fact, La Tour even addressed one of the local clubs recently,
citing the magnitude of the German Shepherd discard problem and what
responsible breeders can do to help. "The only way we can reduce the
soaring numbers of German Shepherds being euthanized is for everyone to
cooperate and maintain an open line of communication.
"Breeders need to do my job for a week or two. It
would be a philosophical wakeup call for them. They need to see what's
ending up in local shelters and find out why. Statistics are just numbers on
paper and aren't enough to convince them of the enormity of the problem. You
have to deal with the heartbreak, phone calls and listen firsthand to why
owners no longer want that once-cute puppy. Potentially, they can become
your best friend, protector and playmate," she adds. "Whether it's
herding, agility or simply going for a walk, owning a shepherd is fulfilling
and therapeutic. They're very smart dogs. In fact, sometimes they're a step
ahead of the owners."
What she's seeing-a steady change in the social
underpinnings of the breed- doesn't bode well, however. More and more dogs
that are relinquished in the Seattle area are of German or Eastern European
stock, for which the owners have paid hundreds of dollars. "They're
gorgeous, robust animals but they come from a working background," says
La Tour. "That means future owners must make a commitment to get these
animals involved in agility, tracking, herding or Schutzhund."
But how many Americans are willing to make time for that?
Most want to come home, pet the dog a few times, maybe throw the ball for it
in the backyard and call it a day. These animals need more. "If we
can't match them with active owners, we run a high risk of a mismatch, and
they end up right back in the shelter or with us," says La Tour.
Having seen hundreds of so-called "problem dogs,"
LaTour, an obedience instructor, now requires adopting parties agree to
attend obedience classes with the animal immediately. "Owning a German
shepherd is a full-time job," emphasizes La Tour. "It's critical
the owner establish a bond at the outset. Letting a shepherd get the upper
hand can be disastrous. Owners don't recognize that until it's too late.
Then, the dogs end up banished to the back yard or chained constantly. In a
shepherd's mind, that's akin to solitary confinement in prison."
UNITED IN DEDICATION
Pfire
is Margaret La Tour's rescued German Shepherd. |
Neither Mike Murray or Linda Vartanian of the Diablo Valley
German Shepherd Rescue of San Ramon, California, have expended a decade in
the trenches like La Tour, yet they're veteran foot soldiers, too. The
intensity of their positions dictates they become focused and driven almost
overnight.
For Vartanian, the first year on duty seemed like an
eternity. "At times, it has consumed my life, and in the normal
times-whatever that is-it's never far away. You mature pretty quickly on
this job.
"There is always a dog, a case, something that's on my
mind when I wake up at 6 AM. After I let my dogs out, pour myself a cup of
coffee, then I head to my computer to check for e-mail and see if we have
any responses to the rescue website," says Vartanian.
"I spend the next hour replying to any inquiries.
Sometimes my family gets a little tired of me talking about dogs, but they
also realize how important it is to me and are very supportive."
Her husband, Perry, assists on many fronts, such as
designing and updating the website, driving with her to pick up and deliver
dogs and donated dog food.
"Thank God, I don't have a paying job, because I'd
have been fired long ago," laughs Vartanian, who spends a minimum of 20
hours weekly on shepherd rescue.
There is no end to it, she emphasizes, which can become
discouraging. "But there are immediate gratifications, too," says
Vartanian, "such as a dog that has been reunited with its owner, a dog
adopted by a family that has fallen in love with it, a note from someone who
adopted a shepherd months before, thanking you for helping him or her find
this great dog."
Vartanian, a longtime volunteer on people projects-teaching
English to migrant farmworkers' children in the Midwest, working in a crisis
pregnancy agency and a hospitality center for the homeless-had been burned
out on people. "When I began volunteering at my local animal shelter
two years ago, I wasn't certain I could do it. My kids would tell you I am
very emotional and cry easily. But I've had dogs all my life. I bought my
first German Shepherd when I was in the eighth grade. I've almost never been
without one or two since. I've raised five children, with these dogs always
a key part of the family.
"Now my grandkids come over to see our two long-coated
shepherds more than to see me and my husband," says Vartanian.
The gut-wrenching emotion and realization that the Diablo
Valley club cannot save every shepherd on nearby animal shelters' Death Row
haunts her. "I'm getting better," says Vartanian. "Sometimes
I cry when I walk through the shelter and see the longing eyes pleading for
me to get them outta there."
The majority of those dogs are there because they're not
wanted anymore. "It's a matter of an owner not being willing to take
the time to train the animal so it can become a well-mannered member of the
family," Vartanian emphasizes. "Of course, there are some
legitimate reasons for letting go, such as a divorce or death in the
family."
RELIEF FOR THE RESCUERS
Support from rescue volunteers' family and associates is
critical, adds Murray, manager of the Diablo Valley rescue agency. "It
keeps you going. Without it, most of us wouldn't last long. The key is
parceling the work around. Don't let the same people continually do the bulk
of the work. Or they'll be burned out soon.
"This is very emotional work, and as a result,
psychological support is equally as important as physical," says
Murray.
EMAIL BONDS
La Tour, Vartanian, Murray and Janice Ritter of German
Shepherd Rescue of New England Inc. credit e-mail for providing much of the
problem-solving and psychological boosts.
While e-mail and the Internet have opened up new avenues
and venues for help, they play another critical role, too- emotional
support. "These are tools we've learned to use," says Rifler.
"When you're down, these are resources to contact others around the
country who truly understand your plight. We network with those involved in
other breed rescue, too, since we all have a common ground and issues.
"There was one night I couldn't sleep," recalls
Vartanian. "I was trying to figure out what to do in a certain
situation. So at 3 Mvi, I went into my office, turned on my computer and
cried on Janice's shoulder via e-mail. After telling her my troubles, I was
able to go to sleep.
"When I got back to the computer at 6:30 that morning,
there was her answer. She shared her experiences in similar situations and
offered me some excellent suggestions."
While the lows tend to outnumber the highs in this
exhilarating roller-coaster ride, the peaks and the ecstasy that surrounds
them give volunteers that extra adrenaline to keep going. In July, Vartanian
savored one of those successes. "It was my version of sitting atop
Mount Everest," she explains. A Diablo Valley German Shepherd Rescue
volunteer took an older male dog from a local shelter just as its time clock
was about to expire. The dog had been apprehended as a stray; he had no
collar and no one had come to claim him.
He had almost been adopted once, but the family had decided
he was older than what they wanted. A couple of days later, a volunteer
noticed what appeared to be a tattoo in one of the dog's ears. The numbers
were barely discernable, just enough for Diablo Valley rescue staffers to
track down the identity.
"We found the breeder," recalls Vartanian,
"and she supplied us with the name and phone number of the man she sold
this puppy to nine years ago. Thank God, the phone number was still good.
And we had one incredulous and delighted owner reunited with his dog after a
month of searching and almost giving up hope. Talk about high!"
FOSTER PARENTS
Alexandria
was adopted through the SPDR by author Ranny Green and his family, Mary
and Stacy. |
"The foundation of German Shepherd rescue lifelines is
built around foster parents," claims Vartanian. "They are like
gold."
A foster team buys animals that 24-karat commodity called
time. "They give the dog a chance to live in a home, feel secure, gain
confidence, bond to someone, undergo training and develop some manners. By
the point some of our rescue dogs leave a foster home for a what is
hopefully their permanent new residence, they've undergone a brain
transplant of sorts-from a depressed shelter resident to a confident new
family member." adds
Vartanian.
"It's hard to grasp how rejected these dogs must feel.
One day they're in a family environment, the next they're in a crowded,
noisy animal shelter," says Vartanian.
According to Murray and La Tour, it's imperative a foster
team receive periodic breaks. "That can be excruciatingly
difficult," concedes La Tour. "There's always a need for a foster
home, but you don't want to risk burning out your key people. It's a Catch
22. You might not be able to take a good adoption candidate or two out of a
shelter because of a shortage of foster homes. But if you overwork a couple,
you run the risk of losing many more dogs in the long run."
Murray, who has owned three shepherds in the last 26 years,
joined the Diablo Valley club's rescue program in 1995. He began by
transporting dogs about the area, helping man the phone line and fund
raising. When the former manager quit from burnout in 1997, he assumed the
position.
"It just seems that it never ends," he says.
"You take three steps forward, only to fall four back the next day.
Rescue is a business, however, not just a personal little project that
someone does as he or she can."
To move in that direction, Murray set up a voice mailbox in
lieu of phone calls to a volunteer's home. "Calls at all hours is one
of the prime reasons for burnout," he emphasizes. "With voice
mail, we check it several times daily.
"Secondly, I sought to enlist more people than we had.
This helped ensure that less would fall on one member. Most rescue groups
operate with just a handful of people who do everything."
Handling myriad chores and attempting to hold down a
full-time job and have
a life, adds Murray, "is quite a balancing act. And
like any successful business, the key is putting the right people in the
right position."
The dynamic of a successful rescue operation like Diablo
Valley is centered around teamwork, adds Murray. "You operate to
people's strengths while offering them responsibility."
Making an analogy to the film, Field of Dreams, which
included the line: "If you build it, they will come, "Murray says
rescue work is more like, "If people feel good about what they are
doing, they will stay."
The blue-collar Diablo Valley German Shepherd Rescue
thrives on community orientation. It identifies veterinarians who work with
rescue groups by offering deep discounts for sterilization and other
services; organizes numerous fund-raisers; and maintains a well-publicized
website address.
MATCHMAKING
Major rescue programs such as Seattle, Diablo Valley and
New England, place a high priority on the right match. "You don't want
these animals changing hands again," says Ritter. "The rejection
by a previous owner, followed by psychological turmoil, leaves some dogs
right on the edge." Each of these organizations conducts home
inspections, as time and manpower allows, but always in questionable
match-ups.
"Each adoption stands on its own merit," explains
Murray. "There is no ideal for the perfect adopter."
The success of any rescue program is dependent on a solid
relationship with area shelters. "Unfortunately, shelter policies vary
tremendously," says Murray, "and run the gamut from very
professional and caring to just dismal.
OWNER SURRENDERS
"The owner surrenders are a very mixed bag. In most
cases, with the bottom line is that the owner simply wants out of the
responsibility of caring for the animal."
La Tour agrees, "You get back to the
disposable-society thing; Americans just toss things aside when they're done
with them. Unfortunately, that goes for pets as well as material
items."
Diablo Valley German Shepherd Rescue has tightened up its
policies regarding owner surrenders. "We will not interview these
people until they have first completed our placement profile and read our
cover sheet that ask them to consider other options, like additional
training and behavioral work, before letting go.
"If they still decide to surrender the animal, we ask
that we place it from their home, rather than take possession and stress the
dog out further," says Murray. Diablo Valley rescue charges each owner
$35 to cover mailing and telephone charges associated with the placement.
"Owner surrenders are the most frustrating aspect of
rescue," adds Murray. "I remember going to one of our local
shelters last year to examine a 1-year-old female who had been turned in by
her owners because of mange. They had not bothered to seek medical attention
for her and she obviously had suffered for some time. Her entire coat was
gone, she had open wounds over the majority of her body to the degree that
her eyes were swollen shut. She could barely stand on her own power.
"The veterinarian who examined her suggested
euthanizing her as the most humane thing we could do, as her prognosis with
treatment was very poor.
"I agreed and walked out of the shelter knowing that
as I did, that poor dog was being led to her death. I sat in my car in the
parking lot and cried for the next half hour. These were tears of sadness
certainly, but also tears of rage and anger at those who allowed this to
happen," says Murray.
"At that moment, I didn't know if I wanted to ever
deal with rescue again, or if I was more determined than I ever. I drove to
the kennel where we keep some of our dogs and spent the next four hours
walking them, playing with them and reassuring them-and myself-that I would
not let the same fate fall upon them. That morning and afternoon defined my
commitment to this cause."
NEW ENGLAND
Ritter's involvement with rescue began with a large New
England Golden Retriever organization, simply to learn the rudiments of
rescue. Next, she joined forces with a Schutzhund training friend, Pam
Devlin, who also wanted to help German Shepherds. The two fine-tuned their
plans for six months before founding German Shepherd Rescue of New England
Inc. in May 1996.
This
photo of Duke, owned by Shanon and Steve Hull, was sent to Margaret
La Tour with a personal note:
"Hi Margaret, I'm Duke. Thanks
for my new home. I'm very happy here but I owe it all to you for
being the great German Shepherd rep. See you next year at the SPRD
picnic!
Your Friend --Duke." |
Their odyssey began with a 6-month-old German Shepherd that
had been found on the streets of Boston as a stray and was facing euthanasia
soon because it has been in a nearby shelter for 10 days. "We haven't
stopped for a breather since," says Ritter.
Like La Tour, Vartanian and Murray, Ritter says the
psychological turmoil is the toughest. All find themselves hip deep in
cynicism too easily. "I cannot tell you how deep the anguish can be
when you try to help as many nice dogs as you can, but know that you cannot
handle half the volume needing help."
Apathy is literally a killer, Ritter emphasizes. Not
finding enough parties willing to sit at a fund-raiser table for four hours
or open up their house as foster home is "difficult to
understand."
"There are few things worse than knowing a great
German Shepherd was euthanized for nothing, only because the people
responsible for its life abandoned him or turned their back on it and that
dog's last-chance safety net couldn't help either because there were too
many dogs needing help before it that day."
"For the most part, I find that German Shepherd rescue
groups are solitary people doing what they can, feeling very alone and
burned out. When I speak with people thinking of starting a rescue program,
I urge them to first work with others and share their experiences,
especially those with high-volume breeds such as German Shepherds,
Rottweilers, Labrador Retrievers, etc."
Like the Seattle and San Ramon-based rescue services,
Ritter's New England group screens both dogs and potential adopters. The
shepherds must pass a temperament evaluation before being accepted and then
spend a month in foster care for additional temperament tests and exposure
to various stimuli.
Adopters, too, are thoroughly screened. "We need to be
certain they realize that inside the regal, handsome looks of a German
Shepherd is the heart of a creature bred to work," says Ritter. In
addition, the New England doesn't place dogs in households with youngsters
under 7.
"If someone loves the look of a German Shepherd but is
a quiet, somewhat submissive person who just wants a dog that will sit next
to him or her all day day and night and not want to do much, then I'll steer
him or her away from this breed," says Ritter.
The Seattle, California and New England groups place senior
shepherds as well as puppies. "I cannot emphasize enough that these
seniors are often the best to adopt," says Ritter. "They've been
around the block and usually have nicer house manners than the youngsters.
Plus, they relish being with people."
Ritter, La Tour, Murray and Vartanian have found themselves
involved in both dramatic and routine rescues in this business where lethal
disdain is situated alongside enduring love. High-volume German Shepherd rescue
is ripe for frustration and fragmentation. Yet La Tour continually reminds
herself to refrain from lobbing verbal grenades. "It's just a means of
venting," she smiles, "but doesn't do the breed any good. The welfare
of the German shepherd is the reason we're all in it."
In the introduction of The Good Shepherd, by Mordecai
Siegal and Matthew Margolis (Little Brown and Co., 1996), the authors
characterize the breed, "The German Shepherd is more like a person than a
dog, but more like a person we always hoped to be. He is smart, hardworking and
completely loyal.
"German Shepherds are like no other dogs, because of
their distinctive personalities and many outstanding qualities. Their presence
in any family is dynamic and stirs the deepest emotions. The German Shepherd
experience is the dog event of a lifetime."
But the proud breed's embattled spirit, coupled with the
heartbreaking chronicle of human error and misjudgment rescuers face daily,
leaves you wondering if these dedicated people will ever work themselves out of
a job. Most are hoping so, but they're not holding their collective breath.
(Ranny Green is an award-winning writer for the Seattle
Times and a columnist who writes primarily about animals. He owns a rescued GSD.)
