How do you grieve someone you never met?
I saw Abram the day they brought him into the shelter or should I say pound. He looked like a bear rug, lying there sprawled out. He had been tranquilized. Why, you ask? Because he was from the county. He did not come when he was told. That is the least of it. Nobody can judge a dog on first impressions, right? Well, I fell in love with that tranquilized bear and patiently waited for an owner to claim him.
Finally, pictures were posted of this bear, and wouldn’t you know it. He was gentle, calm, loving, and kind. I asked about him at the fall festival. He was described as a “great dog”. “He is gentle, and quite a bit bigger than Mack. We had to tranquilize him, you know, because he was from the county, and we just didn’t know how he would act. But, yeah, he’s been great. He’s really calm.”
This was the description I was given of him at the fall festival by the ACO. I specifically told the ACO, with Leesa Shannon as a witness, that I would pull him and Mack to save them from euthanization if it came to it. Keep in mind, that there were no updates on him at this point, and nothing was mentioned about any of them being in danger.
We lost a beautiful boy, very unexpectedly, in July. At sevenyears- old, his spleen ruptured, and cancer had metastasized everywhere. We have been heartbroken, our children still miss him every day, and our remaining dog has been lost. We are navigating this hurt and picking up the pieces. We had a foster at that time, and since August, we have fostered seven, yes, seven puppies to save dogs at the Levelland shelter. We currently have four fosters. So, when I said I would pull them before they were killed, I was serious.
When I saw Abram, even just as the tranquilized bear, I knew that he could help us heal that missing piece from the hole that was created when we lost Wagner. He could fill that void that we had been searching for, and we could give him a home, the love, and the family he deserved.
Finally, pictures of his beautiful, gray muzzled face, and wise, compassionate eyes were posted, and he was up for adoption. Here is his listing, “This is ABRAM! (Shelter #10020). He is an about five or sixyear- old Australian Shepherd male who is available for adoption at the Levelland Animal Shelter. He came into the shelter as a stray, and no one has come to claim him, so he sure needs a good home! He is a very amazing dog....and loves everyone! He would make a great movie bingewatching or walking buddy!” He sounds like the perfect dog, right? And he’s living at the shelter because people let him down.
I sent his posting, and the photos to my husband, and he agreed that with his description and age, he would be a great fit for our home. I started thinking of names for him. A new name for a new life!
There was no, “SHELTER’S FULL” notice. There was no, “OUT OF TIME” post. There were so many dogs just pulled for rescue. Many dogs have been there for a long time, weeks or a month, much longer than Abram was. Pregnant dogs, dogs with puppies, and unsocialized dogs. I do not want any of them to die, but how do they choose?
I called about Abram, we wanted to take our dog over to meet him and bring him home. Abram was no longer at the shelter. Shocked, I asked if he was adopted.
I was immediately hit with, “We do not have to disclose whether a dog was adopted, rescued, or euthanized. All I have to tell you is that he is no longer at the shelter.” I knew what that meant. Why would you not want people to know of an adoption or rescue? Why would you not want people to know of a success story, an older dog saved from the shelter? Because that’s not what happened. How do you look into the eyes of a completely healthy, adoptable dog that had been there less than a week, and decide that his time was up and that he was the chosen one to make “space”?
I am still heartbroken and devastated because I let him down. I did not get there or call soon enough to save his life. How can we make changes? What needs to be done to give these dogs a chance? Volunteers used to be welcomed at the shelter, the door was unlocked, and dogs could be walked, socialized, and networked to give them a chance at a life they deserved. They had the opportunity to know compassion and love, not just loneliness behind a locked kennel gate on a cement floor surrounded by other confused and scared dogs with howls and barks echoing in a metal container. This is not a shelter. A shelter should be a safe, warm place. A shelter aims to provide more care and adoption opportunities. This is a holding cell for dogs. A cold callous place to wait days or weeks before they are let down by humans one final time.
I am mourning Abram. I have grieved his loss every day since that call. I miss the laughter and happiness he could have brought us. I miss the feeling we could have had saving his life, and him healing our hearts. I miss the walks we could have had and the cuddles we could have shared.
Since originally composing this letter, Mack was also killed. Once again, I offered to foster Mack if he needed it. If there was any chance that he was in danger, I would have pulled him immediately. Mack was also tagged for rescue, and they still killed him. A completely healthy, adoptable, one-year old border collie mix. Gone forever.
Please help us make a difference. Change needs to happen. There is no future for these dogs without it. Until every cage is empty.