Introduction

I start this blog today looking at pictures I took a few months ago. It was a Saturday. The door is open to the room I was in. You can see that the sun is shining outside. At the nearby parks there were probably kids playing, adults watching kids play soccer or tee-ball, whatever particular sport that they’ve chosen for their kids. My own cats and dogs were probably snoozing in the sun… or chewing my clothes, depending on their moods. But here I was on this particular Saturday, taking pictures in the rooms off-limits to the public and volunteers. The bodies lined the floor. I counted ten, and there were ten more boxes containing bodies lining the walls of the small, damp-smelling room. There was another wagon full of bodies because they had run out of boxes to hide them in. The incinerator, just outside the door, held another twenty to thirty bodies in it as well. The sense of helplessness was overwhelming, the smell of the sodium pentothol burning my nose as I surveyed the damage. Some of those faces I knew. Others I had never seen before but I was just as sorry to see them go. Each had a story, a life, and it had ended minutes ago on a concrete floor, held by hands that hated what was happening, but doing it out of love and necessity.

By now you’re probably thinking “just where in the hell does this girl work at?” I work at a Midwestern animal shelter. Here, in the middle of farm country, we see countless animals come through our door. Some are purebred, some are mutts. Some are scared out of their minds while others welcome any new friend and are happy to wrangle any ounce of affection out of any passer-by. The hours are long. The job goes back and forth between heartbreaking and downright uplifting. Sometimes you want to just find a room and lock yourself in it, a crate so to speak, where you can get away from the world and the troubles you face when you love animals and hate the way so many people treat them.
I grew up the daughter of a hunter. Dead deer, rabbits, squirrels, whatever Dad had been out hunting, didn’t phase me. I was used to seeing dead animals around. By the time I reached my twenties I had experienced more pet deaths than many people experience in a lifetime. Dogs, cats, horses, I had suffered their losses many times. I had grieved and made my peace with them and moved on. When I came to work on the shelter I was literally fresh out of the barn having worked at stables for the past few years. I was no longer shocked at seeing dead animals… but I was shocked at the sheer NUMBER of animals coming through the shelter. Any impressions I had fancied quickly went out the window when I realized the size of the problem. From the beginning I clung firmly to my beliefs that we may not be able to help all of them, that we may have to be content with only saving a few, one at a time. I still believe that to this day.

I’m starting this blog at the urging of friends and strangers who are bound by their love of animals. The stories I tell are all true. My coworkers and I and the animals at the heart of them have all lived the stories. As much as we’d like to pretend that animals don’t die in shelters, that every free kitten and puppy will find a home and stay in it forever, that those cute puppies in pet stores didn’t come from puppy mills, the sad truth is that bad stuff happens. It happens to animals a lot because they have no voice. They can’t just pay someone to look after them. People have to look into their hearts and stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. This goes for anyone or anything too weak to defend themselves: the animals, the children, the elderly, the handicapped. It is our duty as decent people to do what is RIGHT for those who can’t do right by themselves.

My goal is to make you think about how your actions affect your community’s animal problem. Maybe you don’t think it’s a big deal if you buy a puppy from Petland. You might think it’s ok to teach your kids the “miracle of birth” by letting your cat get knocked up. You might think it’s ok to leave your dog chained up in the back yard just so you can say you have a dog. I’m here to tell you: YOUR actions have a ripple effect larger than you could ever imagine. Every litter, every puppy mill puppy, every abuse, it affects EVERYONE. We are all a part of this world, even if we think our actions harm no one.
I look forward to writing and hearing back from everyone!