Saturday at the shelter

Alexa and I went to the shelter late Saturday morning to check in on the pup we rescued last week.

Just to preface this, we can't adopt her and we can't foster her.  We've got some contstraints that make it impossible so our hands are really tied about what we can do for her.

On Friday, I called the shelter to see if I could get an update on her to find out if she had calmed down at all.  I was told she was fine, had received her shots and that she would be put up for adoption the next day.  We were both excited by the news and felt relieved that "Hannah," the name the shelter folks gave her, would be alright.  It sounded like she was on the path to getting a good home.

We had already decided we would visit the shelter to follow up on the pup in person to see how she was doing.  Now, because she would be adopted we were doubly looking forward to seeing her and wishing her well on her journey with a new family

When we showed up, we immediately went to the kennel area where they kept the adoptable dogs.  We went form cage to cage thinking we would see her standing in anticipation, ready to meet the family she would go home with.  Alexa took one aisle and I took the other.  The barking was cacophonous as it echoed off the concrete walls.  Each dog excitedly barked when they saw us.

"Hello! Helloooo! Hello! Take me home!  I am ready to go with you! I know you're the one who's gonna take me out of here!!!"

Each cage held a beautiful dog.  There were Pitties, Terriers, Beagles, a Chow-chow, A little Dachsund, Chihuahua's; puppies, older dogs, young and spritely.  All ready to go home with someone.

We didn't see little Hannah. "Oh, well" we figured, "maybe they haven't put her out yet."

We went to the front desk and asked where she was.  We explained we had been told she would be available for adoption.  We explained we were the one's who rescued her and that we wanted to have a visit.

"Um," the clerk told hesitatingly said.  "She's not adoptable.  She's a snapper and has been determined to be aggressive. We'll try to find a shelter that will take her but we don't think we'll be too successful."

"What!" Alexa asked, incredulously. "What does that mean!!??"

"Since she's aggressive, we'll probably have no choice but to euthanize her."

"Wait a sec. Someone here told us she would be put up for adotpion and you would work on finding her a home! This dog is NOT aggressive!  She's scared to death and needs someone to work with her!  We gained her trust over the course of five days and she licked Eric's hand! She's a 15 pound little dog who doesn't know what to make of her surroundings and you're going to euthanize her???"

The vet tech condescendingly told us it was his determination the dog was aggressive and could not be rehabilitated.

"You all told us she would be adopted and now you're telling us that after five days of being here, you're probably going to put her down???? Don't be so heartless.  Give her a chance, give her a chance."

"Well," the tech said "She's got until at least Tuesday before any action is taken.  The call will be ultimately be made by my supervisor, with my input and I've determined she will not stop being snappy."

Alexa dropped to he knees in shock at this turn of events as tears welled up in her eyes.  "Don't make me beg. Please don't make me beg. I'm pleading with you! Give this little dog a chance!  Please! She can't speak for herself so I'm asking on her behalf" The staff who gathered behind the counter looked uncomfortable, not sure how to respond.

"I see your passion," said the tech who had been speaking to us "but there's nothing I can do.  It's up to my supervisor and she's not in until Tuesday.  The dog has been listed in an e-mail that was blasted to area shelters.  There's a chance one of them will take her in."

Alexa stood.  "Can we at least see her to show her someone cares and is thinking of her?"

"No." he said. "You can't.  She's in isolation.  She's very aggressive."

"Can't you at least pretend to understand what she's talking about?" I said. "What harm is there in saying hello?  We're not going into the cage, we just want her to see us."

The dogs began to bark as he led us into the kennel area that housed the "hopeless" dogs.  We crouched in front of her cage.  She saw us and began wagging her tail in a way that said she recognized us. She bark, bark, barked but approached and came closer.

We looked directly at each other.  Her brown eyes again tearing as she realized we couldn't come in and sit with her.

I stood and had to leave.  I couldn't stay any longer.

I said good bye and told her not to worry, everything would be okay.

I waited for Alexa in the lobby.

As we walked to the car we both had heavy hearts.  Alexa said "at least they'll stop and think before they do anything and maybe a shelter WILL take her. There's nothing else we can do."

Alexa is my hero.  Her passion, compassion and willingness to speak up and give voice to what should be obvious: there is no reason to euthanize this dog.  She very willingly stands up and advocates for any creature that would otherwise be disregarded and tossed aside.

We don't know what's going to happen but Alexa did everything she possibly could to have the life and spirit of this little dog spared.  Her passion has given the shelter staff reason for pause before they take any drastic action.

Alexa's voice is powerful. In this case, she willingly used it to speak on behalf of Hannah.

Alexa is a guardian angel.