No Kill vs Train-Wreck Dogs

 This dog is probably a great dog.

Photo and caption by Angela Palance,a tireless advocate for the dogs at the Montgomery County Texas Animal Shelter.

I'll be honest:  I'm not a total convert to Nathan Winograd's vision of a No-Kill Nation.  It's not that I don't want all Shelters to be "no-kill", but it's that I'm not convinced it is an achievable goal.  Or even the right goal.  But Winograd and his supporters brand folks like me as "part of the problem."  We're the "nay-sayers,"  blocking the path to a swoony no-kill paradise where puppies and kittens are loved forever and ever in homes that make PetsMart managers giddy with joy.

Just because I have some reservations, doubts or unanswered questions shouldn't make me the enemy.  I've put a lot of sweat and tears in animal rescue work.  I look at what flows through the doors of the Shelter and wonder what compels us to insist that dogs like the ones below are "adoptable."

Here is a sample of what you'll find in the Adoption Rooms this week:

• Pit Bull mixes with heavy heartworm.
• Untrained, barely socialized young Lab mixes who will yank your arms from the sockets.
• Elderly Labs who aren't housebroken.
• Anxiety-riddled Rat Terriers.
• Chihuahuas that look like genetic mish-mashes.

Checkers  is falling apart in the Shelter. I can't foster him until my husband leaves for his next business trip because this poor little guy is so anxious he just can't stop barking.  It's Shelter stress.

Most of our dogs have at least one and often more health conditions, including (but not limited to) mange, flea dermatitis, giardia, worms, or bad teeth.  And almost all of our dogs come with unknown (and unknowable) health and behavioral histories.

Who in their right mind wants these dogs?  Who on earth can afford to treat and care for these dogs?

And don't think I'm just a heartless cynic.  I know what these dogs cost because I just adopted one, my Miniature Pinscher, Chopper, who joined our pack this summer.  Chopper was an ideal adoptable candidate from our Shelter.  He was already neutered when he arrived, and he received a rabies booster, a heartworm test, microchip, and the Parvo-Distemper shot, plus Strongid for worms.

Chopper, my own personal (and much-loved) train-wreck dog.

However, Chopper is heartworm positive--so I need $400 to $600 to treat that.  He's got one rotten tooth that needs to be pulled at some point (say, $300 or so if I get the tartar scraped while he's under), plus he was positive for giardia.  Once my adoption was final, I spent $300 getting Chopper Vet-checked, including a leptospirosis vaccine, fecal smear, urine culture and a blood work panel to make sure he can handle the heartworm treatment and the tooth-removal.  I bought two antibiotics, heartworm prevention tabs, flea meds and a round of de-wormer.  These were not out-of-the-ordinary expenses.

Nathan Winograd can talk all he wants about "no-kill" policies, but the one hitch in his giddy-up, the thing that he doesn't address in his best-seller "Redemption," is whether all those wonderful Americans who would love to add a pet to their household are actually willing to put in the financial and physical work it takes to bring a Shelter dog around.  At the rate people keep bringing dogs in for owner-surrender, I don't think the American public is near as dog-friendly as Winograd paints it to be.

Li'l Dude, an un-altered Chihuahua boy is my latest foster.  He weighs all of six pounds.  He is anxious and very needy.  While crated for four hours, he managed to bend the wires on this crate with his teeth, and he chewed up the bed into 2-inch pieces of foam, plus, he got the plastic tray scooted part-way out so he could "push" the crate across the room.  He got hold of a cord to a foot control to the sewing machine (after "pushing" the crate) and chewed that up ($89--and I can't tell my husband), then he somehow finagled the door open and left poop surprises upstairs.  He was a very naughty boy.
To top it all off, he's not yet housebroken.  And he's a pushy little guy 'cause he's hung like a Clydesdale and has enough testosterone to equip a baseball team.  Since Li'l Dude needs to gain weight before he can be neutered, it's going to be awhile before he loses his family jewels.  I'm in conversation with a rescue group who might be able to take him.

 Shelter dogs are no bargain.  In fact, they are a gamble. And the Shelter doesn't offer guarantees.

Consider the heartworm issue.  Our Shelter was offering the heartworm treatment vaccine for heartworm positive dogs, but that program has been tabled due to the expense to the County. Most likely, I'll be paying for the treatment at retail prices.  Meanwhile, at the Shelter, our current dog population is running about 40 percent heartworm positive.  So step right up and get yourself a dog, but be prepared to spend some serious money--and shoulder the risks that come with heartworm treatment. At least the dog will love you back.

And just so you don't think I'm totally against the good news as preached by Winograd, I'm signed up to go to the No-Kill Austin conference at the end of September. I'm willing to listen and be convinced.

The Cost of Compassion

"Arabella" (aka "Princess"), the little Distemper Dog, is back at the Vet's, on IVs since yesterday.  She has had the three serum injections that might defeat the distemper, but her physical state was sliding.  Her sponsor opted to pay out of her own pocket for this final effort.  Arabella has a lot of heart and hasn't given up, but the money spent so far to fight her illness is more than $1,000, and that's at steeply discounted (thanks to two very generous Veterinary practices, and two non-profits) rescue rates.  If she is not significantly improved after three days, then we need to face the fact that euthanization is necessary.  I don't want Arabella to die.  Nor does her sponsor and others who have met her.  Yet, money may not save her life.

Which brings up the question:  How much should be spent trying to save a Shelter dog?

Vast amounts of money, much from non-profit fund-raising, much from individuals' own pockets, is spent on individual Shelter dogs whose plights spur people into last-ditch, major efforts.  Many of these cases involve unique situations that arouse fierce sympathy.  Just recently at our Shelter, major effort and expense has been spent treating a dog hit by a car (the dog is recovering) and a mature Chocolate lab whose owner dumped him with an old badly healed broken leg, which has now been amputated (this guy is recovering as well).

The latest extreme example is a GSD mix dog found along the I-45 and brought into the Shelter with bowed front legs, due to carpal flexural deformity, along with severely atrophied back legs.  This dog appears otherwise healthy in spite of his condition, and he has learned to "scoot" along using his belly.  Currently, the Shelter Director (who is a notoriously soft-hearted person) is investigating treatment options.  Most likely, appeals will be made for outside donations.  Plans include high-lighting this dog in the paper to arouse public interest.  Not to suggest that it is wrong to consider treating this dog, but I still wonder if the thousands of dollars that corrective surgery will require could be better spent elsewhere within the Shelter.

Dogs tug at peoples' heartstrings and consequently their wallets--Arabella's sponsor has spent close to $800 of her own money.  The sponsor has a huge emotional (not to mention financial) investment in this dog.  Yet Arabella is property of Montgomery County, Texas.  Without the volunteers (and I count myself in this group because I've put $150 or so toward her treatment), Arabella would already be dead.

Still, with 40 percent of all incoming dogs testing positive for heartworms, and the fact that the Shelter opts to treat these dogs at the rate of about 8 animals per week and a cost of $25,000 per year (much donated), we need to ponder the difficult issue of resource allocation.  It's tough to choose.  People will be upset.  Some dogs will not get treated.  But perhaps it would be better to affect the outcome for the greatest number of dogs.

We're not only faced with choices regarding the extreme cases, we need to develop a better approach to handling distemper cases.

Many distemper dogs are given treatments, and most, especially the puppies, die.  The preventive vaccine series costs about $40-$160, depending on where the owner takes the puppy.  In our area, many people don't vaccinate their puppies.  Whether it is out of ignorance or lack of money is unknown.  But the $1,000 spent so far on Arabella would buy a lot of distemper vaccine.

It's a thorny issue with no easy answers.  What do you think?  What is the best way to compassionately spend limited funds?

Lucky Dog

My Miniature Pinscher, Taco, is one lucky, lucky dog—after more than a month of battling a liver ailment, he appears to be fully on the road to recovery. Yesterday, he began eating out of his bowl, and not just sniffing disdainfully at the food. He’s more likely to follow me around in his normal nosey way. He’s had a couple barking spells. And today, the effusion (swelling) in his lower abdomen is clearly diminished.

He still requires meds, including some pills I’ve not been able to get down him. Yesterday he actually took a pill in a pill pocket! Now I have a regimen of meds to improve his liver and guard against ulcer formation. Plus, he’ll stay on antibiotics for another couple weeks.

I’ve not had a foster dog since his illness began and I’ve been too worn out from working with him to do off-site adoptions for the Shelter. My Adoption Team Coordinator has about given up on me. But I just couldn’t focus on the Shelter dogs while my own pet’s illness was so severe.

Here’s what I’ve learned from my experience with Taco:

1. Be aware that animal treatments are as comprehensive today as human treatments. It should go without saying, but it still threw me for a loop. Taco’s illness would have resulted in certain death perhaps only five or ten years ago. The Vets who cared for the beloved dogs of our childhoods didn’t have sophisticated blood testing, portable sonogram equipment and specially trained personnel to read the results. Plasma transfusions for companion animals were a rarity. All these procedures are readily available, for a price, to most Vets today.
2. Decide before your dog gets sick what you will do when presented with expensive (and often escalating) treatment options. One of my friends had some lipomas removed from her 7-year-old Cattle Dog’s torso. When her Vet asked if she wanted to have the tissue sent out to analyzed for cancer, she declined. “I didn’t want to know if the tissue was malignant or not. If it came back cancerous, we’d feel too guilty to not treat it,” she explained. “We decided we’d do the removal of the lipomas for the dog’s comfort, but we weren’t going to go further.” To some people, this may sound harsh, but it’s reasonable—my friend is committed to providing palliative care, but not treatment that may or may not work.
3.  Ask about euthanization costs before the need arises. Some Vets charge an additional cost to euthanize a client’s pet, and others don’t charge faithful clients for the actual injections. There are often other charges that are mandated—disposal fees, etc. Ask so you know ahead of time.
4. Decide what you want to do with your pet’s remains. If you plan to bury your pet’s remains on your property, you need to make sure local ordinances permit this. Cremation is a popular way to handle a pet’s remains, but procedures and costs vary. The April 2010 print copy of “Houston Pet Talk” has an extremely good article about pet loss, and includes suggestions on how to evaluate the services offered by pet cremation companies
5. Consider Pet Health Insurance. I don’t have insurance on my pets. My Mom used to carry pet insurance on her pets, but doesn’t now. I asked my Vet for a brochure from the company honored by my doctor’s practice (I use VCA, a corporate Vet, with franchises nationwide—the reasons why are better left for a post in the future). I’m not purchasing insurance, but I did review the brochure. I might consider it in the future. I need more information.

What do you think about pet cremation or pet health insurance? Leave me a comment!

We Are Nearly Out of the Woods

Buddies
Originally uploaded by Calsidyrose

Finally, I think we're on the road to recover with Taco, my Miniture Pinscher (left in the photo) who has been battling a liver issue since March 12th, when he got ahold of a dead squirrel. It's taken $5,000 (yup, you read that right, not that I'm thrilled about it) and round-the-clock effort but he's starting to act like his old self again.

We're still having to force-feed him 2 times daily (a high-protein, low-fat slurry fed through a big syringe) just to keep his protein intake up, but his energy and attitude have vastly improved. This week he has finally begun showing interest in his toys again--he got the "ugee bone" ( a bone-on-a-rope thing) and guarded it vigorously. Yesterday, he "stole" one of Cross's squeaky toys and pushed it at my hands, trying to get me to tug it. He worked at making the squeaker peep for several minutes. He is also starting to lurk under the table again when we eat. We're so relieved.

Would I have spent this much money and effort if I'd known up front what the costs would be? I don't know--we love this dog, but he's always been a challenge-dog. He is mouthy, pushy and doesn't always play well with others. I've owned a muzzle to use when I handle him for medical purposes for years. Our female, Cross, is far more people-oriented and sweet-tempered than this guy.

But we spent the money because he's our dog and we're responsible for him. The potential for prolonged treatment and vet bills is just part of dog ownership, and it is something people need to think about before adding a dog to their lives.

There's No Free Lunch--or Free Dog

One of my Dad’s favorite sayings is there’s “no free lunch.” When working with clients who are considering one of our Shelter’s dogs, I echo my Dad’s assessment, adjusting it to, “There are no free dogs.”

Recently, our Shelter altered its fee structure, reducing the cost to adopt a dog or cat from $100 to $75. We also offer lower fees for senior animals, multiple adoptions and long-term Shelter animals. The current fee includes the animal’s spay/neuter, rabies shot, bordetella preventive, yearly vaccination, microchip and a heartworm test (but not treatment, if needed). This is quite a deal—the spay or neuter alone can run around $300 at a local Vet’s office, once meds and other costs are added.

However, many of our clients feel that even $75 is too much for a Shelter dog. True, many of our dogs will need additional Vet attention to combat Shelter-induced infections such as kennel cough, worms, mange, mites, fleas, coccidia and other ailments, but no matter how you look at it, the point-of-purchase (and let’s face it, legally, this is a sale, not an adoption) cost is the least expensive part of owning a dog.

If you get your dog from Craigslist, you can get a “free dog” but most of the ads I see list a “re-homing” fee (which is really a price) ranging from $25 to $800. Of course, the Craigslist flaggers get busy when the “re-homing fee” for a dog is more than $100, but their vigilance has more to do with the stated rules of Craigslist than anything else. In our local paper, some breeds of puppies are marketed at $1,800 or more.

No matter the take-home cost, dogs are not “maintenance-free.”

Regular basic care for a year (including heartworm prevention, regular shots, one Wellness Vet visit with routine shots & fecal/blood tests, decent food and purchases such as bedding, leashes and a few toys) in our area runs about $300 to $600, depending on the size of the dog.

And that’s assuming your dog doesn’t get sick, hit by a car, attacked by another dog or otherwise suffer a serious illness or contract a chronic condition.

For most folks, the costs of a caring for a healthy dog are not problematic. The joy of having a companion animal is well worth it. But when an animal is ill, all bets are off.

So far, I’ve spent about $5,000 treating my dog, Taco, for a severe liver infection due to his dog-natural tendency to nom on dead squirrels. He is about 9 or 10 years old, and was very healthy before this illness. When I opted to start treatment, I was prepared for $2,000 but not double that and more. At each step, I asked my Vet, “Am I throwing money at a dying dog?” And each time, it was clear I was dealing with a critically sick dog, but not one that was at death’s door—unless I simply decided to stop treatment entirely. Of course, the outcome electing not to do IV fluids and one plasma treatment (which were pricey) would have meant death for the dog.

I’ve halted treatments on my own dogs before (both personal pets and foster animals). I have even selected euthanasia when the Vet recommended it. In short, I don’t think I’ve plunged blindly into trying to heroically save a dog’s life when I should have simply “let him die.”

I have sacrificed my summer vacation and a computer upgrade to treat this dog. I haven’t been able to do off-site work or take on a new foster dog. I have learned how to do all sorts of things I never dreamed I’d need to know how to do—how to muzzle and force meds down a dog, how to administer sub-cu fluids, and how to give a dog an enema. I am out of money and worn out. And it’s not over yet. My dog is still not fully recovered. He’s a lot better, and he’s one lucky dog, but he sure as heck ain’t a “free dog.”

When I’m back doing off-sites and my clients start fretting about the cost, I may have to remind them that the cheapest part of dog ownership may well be the point of purchase.

Memories of Old Yeller

We all know what happened to “Old Yeller” in the classic book and Disney film, and we all bawled our eyes out. Of course, back in the days when Old Yeller fought bears and contracted rabies, advanced veterinarian treatments were non-existent.

Today, vet care is as sophisticated as human medical care—even if it is without a bitter Congressional fight—and owners can treat their animals for an ever-expanding range of maladies at an ever-increasing cost.

I’ve spent more than $3,000 on a rescue dog I’ve owned for 10 years. Back when we went to the PetsMart adoption event, we never visualized this, of course. We saw a cute, spirited Miniature Pinscher. We didn’t know he would be a dominant, nippy little twit, but after all these years, we love him, even with his drawbacks.

I was describing Taco’s recent illness to a group of friends, and an older man began describing how his family cared for the dogs of his youth: “We had dogs on our farm in Wisconsin,” he said. “And we never did much for them, but they were healthy and lived a long time. We didn’t even feed them fancy dog food. And we never took them to a Vet. We might have called a Vet for a cow, maybe, but never for a dog.” He was appalled that I had spent so much on “just a dog.”

I didn’t get into it with the gentleman, but 30 or 40 years ago, when he was a boy in Wisconsin, a farm dog might have lived for 3 or 4 years before getting injured, ill or hit by a vehicle. Dogs simply “ran off” never to be seen again. Even when I was a kid in the 1960s, if you had a dog that lived to be 7 or 8, that was an “old dog.” A very old dog.

Most Vets still consider a dog a senior at age 7, but vaccinations, spay/neuter programs, better food nutrition, preventive health checks and a growing list of drugs and treatment options have extended the life-span of our pets. Today, I meet people with 14-year-old Golden Retreivers who still take (slow) daily walks and 18-year-old Dachshunds who might be hobbled with cataracts and toothless, but they still have pep. Advances in Vet care today mean that if you want to spend the money, you can provide your ill pet with blood transfusions, open heart surgery, joint replacement and sophisticated cancer treatments.

Have I spent too much on my nasty little Min Pin? I don’t know. As I told my husband, the time to decide how much you want to spend is BEFORE you are involved in a full-bore treatment plan. I could have stopped, I suppose, after my first visit—skipping the pricey emergency care and nixing the follow-ups. My dog would be dead now simply due to system collapse and dehydration. I’m taking him to the Vet this morning, after watching him slip into a decline last night. However, this morning, his whole attitude seems better.

Still, I warned my daughter that we might have to make that big Decision with this dog. I told I needed to be honest with her—I needed to know if she wants to be with Taco when/if euthanization is needed. She said yes she did. Meanwhile, my conscience won’t let me just abandon this dog to death if reasonable efforts will help him improve. My Vet, at this point, believes he is a good candidate for total recovery. So for now, I will hand over my credit card.

Taco's Illness Worsens

What an ordeal. The last two weeks have gone by in a blur due to my Miniature Pinscher Taco’s fateful encounter with a dead squirrel.  Since I discovered him with a squirrel carcass, I have been to three different veterinarian offices, and have spent more than $3,000 dealing with his symptoms.

We’ll never know for sure, but my Vet thinks we’re dealing with Salmonella.  Taco went downhill the Saturday after our first Vet visit on March 12^th, in spite of three injections (anti-bacterial, anti-nausea and pain medication).  He stopped eating.  His eyes grew squinty, his gums were engorged red but very tacky, and he bit at us while we tried to medicate him. 

On March 14^th we took him to the San Antonio Animal Emergency Clinic, which is rated second in the state of Texas behind the facilities at Texas A&M.  Taco spent the night with IV fluids and antibiotics, along with heating pads to raise his abnormal and dangerously low temperature.  There were Xrays and a sonogram.  No sign of tumor, no sign of pancreatic distress, no damage to the liver.  Just sever inflammation all along the gastric track and inflammation around the liver.

March 15^th and 16^th were spent at Spring Branch Vetinerary Clinic, where my Mom takes her dogs.  We brought him home on March 18^th and he saw his regular doctor on March 19^th.  His blood work was improved and she gave him 300 ccs of sub-cu fluids, a powerful anti-biotic injection, and a full round of additional meds.  We fed him via syringe, but Taco became more balky and by Sunday, March 21^st, Taco had bitten both  me and my husband so hard that we couldn’t give him anymore liquid medicines (muzzling him became an exercise in avoiding Taco’s teeth).

March 22^nd, he went back to the Vet for more fluids.  He seemed to improve, making a poop and even eating a bit more enthusiastically on his own.  I found a way to get him to take his pills—a dab of whipped cream cheese worked wonders.  On March 23^rd, a friend of mine helped me give him 200 ccs of sub-cu fluids at home to keep his electrolytes in balance.  Afterwards, Taco ate shredded boiled chicken and I/D dog food.  He pooped again the next day.  However, by afternoon on the 24^th, he was refusing most food, except for a couple T/D kibbles.

Today, my friend and I gave him another 200 ccs of sub-cu fluids.  His temperature was normal, and his attitude seemed better.  He is still reluctant to eat—I have five open cans of special Hills Science Diet dog foods and he only sniffs at them.  He ate some kibbles, a bit of I/D and a  bit of rice.  However, tonight, his gums are pale and tacky, and he’s hunched over again.  Instead of letting him sleep with my daughter, I’ve tucked him snugly in his “Happy Place,: a bed in the closet.

My daughter, who is almost 16, asked if maybe we had done the wrong thing by treating his illness—she wanted to know if he is in too much pain and needs to be euthanized.  At each stage of this process, I have asked the presiding Vet whether or not we’re trying to treat a dying dog.  Each time, I was told he was critical, but not dying.  We’ve spent more money on this dog to fight this than I’ve ever spent on one animal, but the problem is that once we started treatment, we were pretty much committed. 

Tonight I am concerned we are losing the battle.  I have an appointment for Taco in the morning.  Plus, I had a long conversation with Taco’s doctor this afternoon, and she was hopeful that his improvement would continue.  But his symptoms appear to be worsening.  I am not confident that we can save him.  Only time will tell.