The Down Side of Well Intentioned Advice

I just read a post about a woman who has a 10-week old toy breed puppy who is nipping at her hands. Her veterinarian suggested swatting the puppy with a rolled up newspaper while yelling, “No!” When the woman reported back that the nipping had progressed to biting any time she came near, the veterinarian’s advice was to swat the dog harder.

Fortunately, in this case a trainer who knew better got involved. As a fellow trainer, I hear these types of stories constantly. Just last week I spoke with a man who put a shock collar on his dog to stop the dog’s constant barking. This advice came courtesy of the clerk in his local chain pet supply store. Owners receive advice constantly from other dog owners, friends, veterinarians, and even some trainers who are, unfortunately, not well qualified to give behavioral advice. Although the advice is well intended, it can also be extremely damaging to the dog.

The first thing to consider when your dog is exhibiting unwanted behavior is why the behavior is occurring. For example, 10-week-old puppies explore the world with their mouth, since they don’t have opposable thumbs! Nipping is not a bid for world domination, but rather, a perfectly natural puppy behavior; and there are gentle, positive ways to curb it. The dog who is barking non-stop when left in the back yard may be bored and under-stimulated; he may have separation anxiety; or, there may be something in the environment that is causing him stress. Using a shock collar is like slapping a band-aid on the problem. It may appear to work at first, but it does not actually solve the underlying problem, and the added stress may lead to even worse problems. So take the time to consider why your dog is doing what he’s doing, and proceed accordingly. If you have trouble discerning the underlying motive, enlist the help of a professional trainer.

Whenever you receive advice on how to handle your dog, regardless of whether it comes from a “professional” or a friend, listen to your gut. Is this really something you want to do to your dog, or do you feel uncomfortable even thinking about it? If you get that squirmy feeling, don’t do it! Much of the information on “correcting” dogs comes along with the suggestion that “you can’t let him get away with that” or “you have to show him who’s boss.” In reality, most dogs misbehave because it works. It gets them something they want, whether the reward is that sandwich you’ve left lying on the counter, your attention, or a fun romp once they’ve darted out the front door.

Not all suggestions you’ll get are bad, and some will actually be quite useful. So the next time someone offers tips on how to handle your dog, smile and say thank you, and then listen to your instincts. If the suggestion seems promising, take the time to think it over, and if you’re not sure, consult a positive, professional trainer. That’s my best advice!

Thinking of Gifting Someone with a Christmas Puppy?

It’s that time of year again. Kids eagerly await Santa’s visit. Parents and others scramble to buy gifts and more gifts. And dog trainers dread the advent of the Christmas Puppy.

Now, trainers are not all scrooges, and we understand why people give puppies as gifts. Who wouldn’t enjoy the sheer delight on the recipient’s face upon discovering a happily wriggling bundle of fur, and imagining the ongoing joy that tail-wags and face-licks will bring? But to gift someone with a puppy is also to thrust upon them a huge responsibility. We trainers are called in when people find that their adorable pup is urinating everywhere, nipping tender hands and feet with razor-sharp teeth, and chewing everything in sight. A puppy really is the gift that keeps giving, both in happiness and in required effort and patience.

If you’re set on a puppy as a present, consider first whether the idea is realistically appropriate. I’ve seen more than a few cases where well-meaning family members gifted grandma or grandpa with a pup, thinking it would provide companionship and good cheer. While there are certainly some seniors who can handle the level of activity of a young pup and the commitment the care entails, there are far more who would no sooner be burdened with a puppy than they would an infant. If you’re sure your beloved “golden oldie” would actually enjoy having a canine companion, consider a mature dog instead. Most senior citizens do well with smaller dogs, and due to the current economic climate, shelters are bursting with perfectly lovely ones whose only crime was that their owners could no longer afford to keep them. Gifting grandma with a carefully chosen six- to eight-year-old Maltese or Shih Tzu mix, for example, would save a life while providing calm companionship.

If the recipients of your gift are to be your kids, know going in that you are the one on whom the burden of daily care will fall. Sure, it’s nice to envision Billy learning responsibility by cleaning up after the dog each day, and Cindy taking him for walks. But you will be the one getting up with the pup in the middle of the night, and cleaning up after him. Kids will be kids, and again, you will be a dog-mom or dad to a very young creature who needs constant care and attention. If you’re up for the job, great! If not, consider adopting a dog who’s a few years old. Adolescence in dogs spans from approximately five or six months of age until around a year-and-a-half to two years, depending on breed. You might not be able to skip the dreaded teenage phase of developing selective hearing and pushing boundaries with your kids, but you can avoid it altogether with a dog by adopting one who is already two to three years or older.

Choosing the right puppy or adult dog for another person can be tricky. Breed, temperament, activity level, and sociability with other animals all play into the decision. Beyond all of that, something just has to “click” between the human and the dog. So instead of bestowing the actual dog on the festive day, here’s a much better idea that still allows for the “wow” factor: Purchase the cutest stuffed dog you can find, and tie a big red bow around its neck. Include a card explaining that the stuffed dog is a stand-in for the real thing. Once the recipient has read the card, explain where the dog will be coming from. For example, your Golden Retriever puppy will be arriving from a well-researched breeder and will arrive in approximately two weeks. Or, better yet, you will be going as a family to the local shelter or humane society to pick out a dog together. The benefits of presenting your gift in this way far outweigh the possibility of a slightly less surprised reaction than if the actual dog were present.

One last consideration: Although your generous gift might not come with “some assembly required,” it does come with some work required. Arrange for a bit of help from a professional trainer. The Association of Pet Dog Trainers is a great place to start your search. Services designated in your gift certificate might include the trainer’s assistance in choosing the dog, and/or a private session or two in the recipient’s home. Most trainers will be happy to accommodate this request, and getting the dog off on the right paw from the start will help to ensure that your “gift” will be cherished for a long time to come. Happy Holidays!

“Our Training Kicked In”

I just watched an interview with Kimberly Munley and Mark Todd, the civilian police sergeants who took down the crazed gunman at Fort Hood. Both parties, when asked how they were able to so quickly assess the horrific situation and respond as they did, said the same thing: “Our training kicked in.” They explained that they had been put through training exercises to the point that whether the scenario was a planned drill or an actual event, their conditioned reflexes took over. Naturally, this made me think of dogs.

I’ve often heard dog owners say, “He’ll come when I call him at home, but at the park, he ignores me!” Upon questioning, these same owners invariably reveal that any training that has taken place has been in the home environment, not at the park, and sometimes, not even outdoors. You can’t expect to go from 0 to 10 without building smaller steps in between, whether it’s an off-leash recall away from play with other dogs, or responding properly to an attacker when learning martial arts. Achieving a solid conditioned reflex requires time, patience, and repetition.

I’ve told this story before about my German Shepherd, who has since passed: My husband and I were taking Soko, then about ten months old, to the beach. We’d pulled over on to the narrow shoulder of the Pacific Coast Highway, an extremely busy California freeway. My husband opened the passenger side door and bent to tie his shoelace. Quick as a flash, Soko jumped over the back seat and started to run out into traffic. I scrambled out of the car, heart in my throat. As calmly as possible, I called, “Soko, come!” and gave the hand signal as well, just as we’d practiced hundreds of times. Soko spun on a dime and came flying back to me, thankfully unharmed. I tell that story to clients who complain about using treats to train. I didn’t have any treats with me the day Soko ran into traffic, but you know what? All those repetitions we’d done using treat rewards saved her life, and trust me, I didn’t care how many treats it had taken to get her to that point. The recall had become a conditioned reflex to my cue.

You don’t need complicated protocols or special techniques to train your dog to reliability. What you do need is the patience and dedication to repeat training exercises over and over, while keeping them interesting and motivating for your dog. The exercises should be practiced in various locations, with the gradual addition of distractions. If you do those things, your dog, like the heroes at Fort Hood, will have such well conditioned reflexes that the training will kick in regardless of the circumstances. And like those heroes, you too might save a life—your dog’s.

Dogs of the Homeless

I just got back from a trip to the local market, where I stopped to chat with a homeless man. Normally I’m more likely to donate some spare change and go on my way, but I’ve chatted with this man once before—and it’s all due to his dog. Winston is a handsome rottweiler mix whose broad, sweet head just calls out to me for petting. I can’t resist saying hello whenever I see him. I found out that next week is Winston’s birthday. He’ll be 12, and according to the man (whose name I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know), Winston is in great shape.

The encounter got me to thinking about the homeless and their dogs. Winston is most likely in great shape because he gets plenty of exercise; after all, he’s doing plenty of walking every day. I think of the dogs who live in near mansions out here in southern California, whose owners are so busy with their businesses and social lives that they don’t have time to pay attention to their dogs, much less walk them. Who do you think is happier, those dogs or Winston?

Down on the Third Street Promenade, a popular shopping area in Santa Monica, there used to be a homeless man whose dog would come over and take an offered dollar bill from your hand and drop it in a hat. People were quite impressed, and I’m betting the guy took home more money each day than most. The dog was completely friendly, and I’ve noticed the same is true of the majority of dogs belonging to the homeless. After all, by default they’re extremely well socialized from a very young age. They meet all manner of people, are exposed to plenty of sights and sounds, walk on all sorts of surfaces, and I’m sure, meet plenty of other dogs.

I’m sure having a dog is a great benefit for a homeless person, as the dog can offer protection as well as being an ice-breaker that allows people to come over and chat and perhaps lend a hand. But I’m thinking that being homeless isn’t such a terrible thing for the dogs, either, as long as the person takes good care of them. A house may be defined by four walls, but home, well, that’s being with someone you love who loves you back, and taking good care of each other. I think Winston is one lucky dog.

Opening My Heart to New Furry Possibilities

It’s been just over a year since I lost my beloved soul dog Mojo. I experienced three other losses last year as well, which sapped my motivation for getting another dog anytime soon. I’ve also had a very busy travel schedule, but my last seminar of 2009 has been presented and I’m now left with the time—and, finally, the inclination—to begin searching for another dog.

It’s a funny thing with dog trainers; many of us do well at helping other people with their dogs’ behavior issues, but when it comes to our own dogs, we have blind spots. Just ask my professional trainer friend whose pit bull/great dane knocks visitors down at the door with her unbridled enthusiasm! Maybe it’s a case of the cobbler’s children, where the last thing we want to do when we get home is train one more dog.

It seems like we who should know better have this same blind spot when it comes to choosing a dog. If I were to sit down and make a list of the characteristics I’d like, they’d include friendliness with other dogs and people, no serious fear or aggression issues, intelligence, and an energy level I can live with; in other words, there won’t be an australian shepherd or border collie gracing my home any time soon. Ironically, the types of dogs I’m attracted to—german shepherds, rottweilers, dobermans, wolf hybrids—aren’t exactly known to have the temperament of, say, a golden retriever. It makes me think back to my dating days, where my rock-star partners were certainly head-turning, but perhaps not always the smartest choices. But just as I ended up marrying a kind, intelligent, great-looking guy with a fabulous personality, I’m hoping for the same luck in the canine arena.

I’ve already warned my husband that he’d be needed in the adoption decision-making process. I may have to bring along a trainer friend as well. Goodness knows I’m completely capable of turning off the red flag processing part of my brain when confronted with a pair of heart-melting brown eyes. Or green ones, attached to a black, suspiciously wolf-like body. (I once described my wolf Phantom to a friend, saying, “He’s tall and lanky, with long black hair and intense green eyes” to which she replied, “Are you describing your wolf or your husband?”)

There’s also the matter of age. Mine, I mean. I don’t regard myself as old, but as I’m grudgingly forced to consider things like my chronic back pain (partly due to recent years of lifting the back end of 120-pound dogs), it seems that perhaps a less-than-gargantuan dog would be a wise choice.

One thing I am certain of is that I’d like to adopt from a shelter or rescue group. My husband has suggested a puppy. Of course, he’d be the one peacefully sleeping as I took the adorable fluff-ball out to potty at 3 a.m. But I’d rather have a dog who’s a few years old, one whose temperament is already obvious, where what you see is what you get. Puppies are great, but even the cutest pup can have a genetic disposition toward aggression or fear that’s not obvious at a very young age. Besides, I want to save a life, and puppies are the last to need my help.

It’s been interesting to read online descriptions of adoptable dogs. Euphemisms abound: “He’d love to be your one and only, and wants all your love for himself.” Can you say dog aggressive? “Would be wonderful for an active family” translates to an adolescent with boundless energy, and if you don’t burn it off you’ll have your very own interior redecorator. “A classy fellow. Very discriminating about who he likes, with both dogs and people.” Uh-oh. Run away! I’m not saying these dogs don’t deserve a chance, but that, as cold as it might sound, I’m just not looking for a major project. Been there, done that.

As exciting as getting a new fur-kid can be, I’m not rushing into anything. I have faith that the right dog will come along at the right time. I’ll keep you posted.

Breed Specific Prejudices—Among Trainers

I got a call the other day from a potential training client. When I asked what kind of dog she had, the woman replied, “A five month old pit bull.”

“We’re very pit-friendly!” I said immediately. Why, you might wonder, did I feel the need to share that? Because of all the calls I’ve taken from potential clients who said other trainers refused to work with their dogs based on breed. This unwillingness to work with a specific breed is not limited to pit bulls, although I’ve heard it most often in that regard. Once a caller informed me that a local trainer she’d spoken to refused to work with Siberian huskies. I have a hard time fathoming why. Of course, if a trainer has been badly bitten or otherwise traumatized by a specific type of dog, he or she might have a conditioned response and be unwilling to work with it again. And if we’re being honest, many trainers have a specific breed or two they simply dislike or are actually afraid of. But even in those cases it’s better to explain why the job is being turned down than to leave the owner feeling something is wrong with her dog.

The more common reasons a trainer might refuse to work with a particular breed are due to preconceived notions about behavior and potential danger. It’s true that pit bulls do have more potential for damage, than, say, bichons. I know a trainer whose leg was mauled pretty badly by a pit. But I also know of many pit bulls who are perfectly lovely, sweet dogs who tolerate the typical fur-pulling and pat-pat-head-smacking by kids much more graciously than the majority of pocket pets I’ve met. Sure, pit bulls can have dog-dog aggression issues, but a well-bred pit bull with a solid temperament is one of the most people-loving dogs you’ll find.

Of course, it’s not just trainers who have this prejudice. When I volunteered for the Los Angeles city shelter system in the 90s, part of my duties included assisting the public in choosing a dog. Time after time the same scenario played out: a mother and child would be playing with and cooing over an adorable pit bull in a pen. The mom would finally turn and ask the dog’s breed. I’d answer “pit bull.” Mom would immediately take a giant step back, pushing the child behind her as though the dog was about to sprout horns, pull the bars apart, proclaim, “I am pit!” and maul them both. “It’s the same dog you were petting a minute ago” didn’t seem to make much difference. Cage cards say things like “Staff X” (Staffordshire Terrier Mix) for a reason—it’s less potentially off-putting than the dreaded “pit bull” label. But the dog is what it is, and I don’t believe in trying to fool people.

The public’s perception of pit bulls and certain other breeds is understandable. After all, you don’t often hear stories on the news like “Angry Chihuahua bites toddler!” Not that it doesn’t happen—you just won’t hear about it. I’m guessing small dogs are under-represented in breed bite statistics as well, because many people find it embarrassing to even report the bite.

When trainers feed into these existing misperceptions, though, it only fuels the fire. As professionals, trainers have the right to refuse service to anyone they like. But we owe it to owners not to make them feel as though there is something wrong or lesser about their chosen breed, and therefore their particular dog, who they obviously care enough about to seek professional help. Trainers are on the front lines of education, which is why it is so important for us to be educated. We have the capacity to help or hinder, and to indirectly contribute to or fight breed specific legislation based on the public perceptions we engender. Realizing that each breed is made up of individuals is the least we can do to promote a “deed not breed” philosophy.

Busted by a Beagle

My husband and I were waiting for our luggage at LAX after an 11-hour return flight from Paris. Lulled by the sight of the bags going around and around, I waited for ours to appear. Suddenly, I was jarred from my near-daze by the sight of a loose dog dragging a leash. Like any dog trainer worth her salt, my reflexes took over. Within seconds I stood proudly, foot on leash, potential dog disaster averted. Only then did I notice the dog was wearing a vest, and the “owner” the beagle had gotten away from was wearing a uniform too—that of a Customs officer; a none-too-pleased customs officer, who had let the dog loose to do his sniffing. I apologized and went back to wait for my luggage.

Minutes later, the dog and officer approached our area and all passengers were ordered to place shoulder bags and carry-ons on the ground. I watched in admiration as the beagle dutifully walked from one bag to the next, every now and then alerting the officer by placing a paw on a bag, the officer rewarding the dog with a treat. I was lost in musings of how nice it was that this dog, who looked to be at least seven years old, could have a nice, long career doing this type of work. Aww. The dog was alerting again, what a good dog. No….wait! That’s my bag!

“Do you have any food in the bag, ma’am?”

Okay, honestly? At that moment I was thinking, it’s a beagle, for crying out loud. I could have Crumbs of Sandwiches Past in that bag and a beagle would alert…

“I have some granola bars,” I answered honestly.

“What about fruit? Are you carrying any fruit?”

“No, no fruit.”

“Are you sure you’re not carrying any fruit?”

Suddenly I remembered the banana—the one that, approximately fifteen hours before, had seemed like a great idea to stuff into my carry-on. Only I’d completely forgotten it was there. Did I mention the 11-hour flight?

“Oh…uh…sorry, I do have a banana. I’m happy to throw it away.”

Shooting me a look that can only be described as the visual equivalent of a collar correction, the officer snatched the landing card from my hands and scrawled BANANA across it in large letters, to mark me as the fruit-carrying criminal I was.

As we continued to wait for our luggage, my husband and I laughed about my being busted by a beagle. In fact, it seemed amusing enough to blog about. And what’s a blog without a photo? Hmm, I thought, I’ll just grab my iphone and take a quick photo. My husband pointed out the dog and officer across the way, still hard at work. I walked up and aimed my camera-phone at the pair.

The officer spied me immediately and put a hand up. “No photos,” she snapped.

Clearly this woman was not a fan of mine. But perhaps she just didn’t want to be on camera? “Can I just take one of the dog doing his job?” I asked.

“No. We can’t have photos in here. We don’t want terrorists taking photos of the Customs area.”

Obviously the Banana Caper had marked me as a threat to national security. Or at least a giant irritation. “Okay, no problem,” I answered, and slunk away.

After picking up our luggage, we reported to the red zone area so my suspicious bag could be x-rayed. The offending banana was placed in the trash, paperwork was filled out, and, finally, we were free to go. I silently bid a fond farewell to the hard-working beagle and headed for home.

Florida Bill Would Grant Deductions to Pet Parents

U.S. Rep. from Michigan Thaddeus McCotter, a man after my own heart, recently introduced a bill that would allow pet owners to deduct up to $3500 per year for pet care expenses, including veterinary care. House Bill 3501, also known as the HAPPY bill—an acronym for Humanity and Pets Partnered Through the Years—would alleviate the financial strain of owners whose pets need long-term veterinary care, emergency care, or other expensive surgeries and medications.

Of course, the first thing that crossed my mind when I read the story was all the money I’d spent over the years on my own fur-kids. There was Mojo’s triple pelvic osteotomy at the tender age of six months to fix a hip that didn’t seem to have much of a socket; his ruptured cruciate ligament at the age of 11 years; and his emergency bloat surgery at 14 years. Let’s face it, that’s more than a down-payment on a house, and although of course I was happy to pay any amount of money to ensure Mojo’s well-being, some financial assistance certainly would have been welcome. And that’s just Mojo; add to that my German Shepherd Soko, and the three wolves/wolfdogs who lived with me for 10 years, and you’ve got a condo’s worth of medical bills, at least.

 It only seems fair that those of us who have chosen to have dogs rather than human offspring should get some assistance in “child support.” Last year, having a qualified child dependent gave a parent permission to take a $3500 tax deduction. Can you think of anyone more dependent than our dogs? It’s progress that there is medical insurance for pets, but as many of us know, it doesn’t typically cover the things we’d like or go far enough. Here’s to hoping the Florida bill passes and other states follow suit. It’s about time.

Are “Dog People” Wired Differently?

My husband and I are taking a trip to Paris. All the travel guides warn about pickpockets who prey on tourists in certain parts of town. Apparently a child or two will approach and pretend to need help, engaging you in conversation while their little friends make off with your wallet and other valuables. Want to know the first thought that crossed my mind? “Thank goodness it’s not someone pretending a dog needs help.” I know, that’s awful; and of course I would help a child who was truly in need. But the truth is, I just don’t have the warm, fuzzy reaction toward kids that those prepubescent pickpockets are counting on.

Way back when, during the time I worked in corporate offices (or, as I like to call them, The Hell Years), there seemed to be a constant stream of young children visiting their parents at work. Employees proudly paraded their offspring around the rows of cubicles, and displayed them in silver and gold frames on their desks. Can you guess what sorts of photos hung on my walls? Let’s just say I had the hairiest kids in town. What’s that you say? Liz from accounting is having a baby shower? Hmm. That’s nice. What? Nancy from PR is getting a new puppy? What kind? When? Will she bring him to work? …Yep, co-workers thought I was strange.

Among “dog people” that sort of behavior isn’t unusual in the least. Although I know plenty of folks who have two-legged kids as well as dogs, and are still most definitely dog people, I also know many who proudly declare, “My dogs are my kids.” I may not be susceptible to the Baby Awwws, but I do get an instant feeling of pleasure upon spying a dog. And a puppy? Resistance is futile—magnetism takes over. I find myself drawn toward the wriggling bundle of cuteness, anticipating the feel of velvety fur and the sweet scent of puppy breath. Cuddling the pup, the world disappears. I’m sure those who are wired to feel that way about babies have a similar reaction when holding an infant—in fact, the chemicals released into our bodies are identical.

Those who are not dog people may not understand the lengths we of the dog-centric circuitry go to for our dogs. We often spend excessive amounts of money to ensure they get the best nutrition and health care. We stay on top of the latest medical research, and go the extra mile (or ten) to provide for our dogs’ well being, even when turning to things like acupuncture and hydrotherapy cause the eyebrows of non-dog-folk to raise in an inquisitory “what the…?” In short, we go out of our way to make sure our dogs are happy, healthy, well exercised, and well trained. Our dogs are not “things,” nor are they second-class citizens; they are family.

The rest of the world may not always understand it, but consider this a tail-wagging, raised-paw shout out to all of you dog people!

The Allure of Adopting a Dog “As Seen on TV”

You may have heard about the recent case of the wolfdog (a.k.a. wolf hybrid) who carried the family infant off into the woods, crushing its tiny skull and ribs in the process. The wolfdog was impounded and, fortunately, the baby is fine. Now, after spending over a month at the shelter, the wolfdog, Dakota, has been adopted into a new home (hopefully a childless one). Interestingly, during her stay, the shelter received hundreds of calls asking to adopt Dakota. Sure, she was by all accounts a sweet dog who simply had the strong prey drive associated with wolfdogs, and never belonged in a home with an infant to begin with. But subtract the national headlines from the incident and…well, good luck finding a home for a wolfdog who’s severely injured a child.

We’ve seen it over and over, this media effect. A stray dog falls into a well or a rushing river. We hold our collective breath as crews work tirelessly to rescue the poor pooch. Finally, there’s public rejoicing—along with countless offers to adopt the dog. Never mind the dog’s temperament, history, or suitability for a particular home; the story captures our hearts and we want that dog!

It’s not so different with dogs who appear on adoption segments of talk shows or newscasts. Those dogs, as you might imagine, have a very high adoption rate. Naturally, shelter personnel choose candidates they think will entice viewers. They also pick dogs who are having a difficult time being adopted at the shelter; it’s a great opportunity for the dogs. I know this because I spent much of the 90s as a volunteer, volunteer coordinator, and then Animal Care Technician (kennel staff) for the L.A. city shelters, and my duties included choosing dogs for outside adoption events.

Due to the nature of televised adoption segments, there aren’t dozens of dogs to choose from. It’s not, “Which would be the appropriate dog for our home?” but rather, “Aww, look at that dog pawing at the host’s leg, he’s adorable!” The playing field is narrowed and a multiple choice question is turned into to a simple yes or no answer. And let’s face it, sitting in your easy chair and being presented with a potential adoptee is way easier physically and emotionally than going down to the local shelter, rescue, or humane society. But is it really the best way to choose a new family member?

What exactly is it about dogs in the media that causes us to bypass reason and instantly commit? Is it our celebrity culture, which has trained us to be impressed by something or someone simply because they are televised? Perhaps. It’s also an emotional response. In the case of a dog who’s been injured or rescued from a bad situation, that maternal (or paternal) genes fire, prompting us to want to care for the unfortunate creature. And hey, it makes for a great story when friends ask how you got your dog: “I was sitting on the couch one night watching television, and suddenly there was this dog on the news. He’d fallen into the river and they rescued him!” Pretty dramatic stuff.

There’s nothing wrong with adopting a dog you see on television, assuming it is the right fit for your home. But for every dog the station receives a slew of calls about, there are hundreds of others awaiting euthanization in shelters across the country. Why choose the dog on live tv when you could choose one on death row? Although their plight isn’t televised, there are an incredible number of adorable, well-behaved, affectionate dogs who are put down every day because people aren’t even aware of their existence. Sure, I know how hard it is to walk into a shelter, and I’m aware that many people avoid it completely. That’s where outside adoption events come in, such as the ones held at pet stores on weekends. These events are wonderful for getting dogs out in the community where they can be seen by folks who wouldn’t otherwise have access to them.

The next time you have a knee-jerk reaction to that adorable homeless dog on television, think of it this way: that dog’s got plenty of offers. Why not go a step further and seek out one who doesn’t have a public advocate? Those shelter/rescue/humane society dogs may not be tv personalities, but they’re sure to be stars in your life.