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I knew many animals were put to sleep, but I had no idea the numbers were this high. This is just in reference to one geographic location.
As Bob Barker has always said, spay or neuter your pet.
MICHAEL AINSWORTH/DMN
Patrick is one of the cats waiting to be adopted at the Plano animal shelter.
As Bob Barker has always said, spay or neuter your pet.
Focus slowly shifting to care and adoption
09:39 AM CDT on Sunday, September 24, 2006
By ERIC AASEN / The Dallas Morning News
For many homeless animals, a trip to a city animal shelter is a ticket to death row. If they're not adopted or rescued within a few days, they're usually killed.
North Texas' largest city-run shelters euthanized more than 82,000 dogs and cats last year. That's 1,600 a week, 225 a day.
Many were perfectly healthy.
But some proactive shelters are trying to send more animals out the front door instead of the back. Some are hiring veterinarians to sterilize animals. Others are working to increase adoptions. Some are building new shelters to increase capacity and be more visible in the community.
The shelters are adjusting to a society that treats pets like family members, from pampering them at dog washes and boutiques to spending thousands of dollars on medical treatments.
Improving municipal animal shelters requires effort and funding, but animal advocates say it's worth the investment.
"It speaks volumes about a society about how we treat the most vulnerable," said Dana Christian, co-director of Tassie's Hope Animal Rescue, a Carrollton-based group. "Homeless animals are the most vulnerable."
Cities have a long way to go. Euthanasia rates are high at many North Texas city shelters, according to a review by The Dallas Morning News of a decade's worth of records from about 30 cities. Dallas killed 82 percent of its shelter animals last year – more than 25,000. Fort Worth put down 66 percent of its animals – nearly 15,000.
The rates are high partly because municipal shelters can't turn away animals like some private shelters do – they are shelters of last resort.
In addition, several area cities have seen more animals enter their shelters in recent years, which could be the result of human population growth or because not enough animals are being sterilized.
Many city shelters want to do better, but they're understaffed, underfunded, overwhelmed and overworked, said James Bias, SPCA of Texas president. Some cities, however, are improving their shelters because it helps a community's quality of life, he said.
"It's not an animal business, it's a people business," said Jay Sabatucci, regional program manager for the Humane Society of the United States' Southwest Regional Office. "City councils and ... [city] management are starting to realize that."
Irving is starting to catch on.
When Susie Williamson took over the city animal shelter last year, she knew there was room for improvement.
Most disturbing, she said, were two depository doors near the shelter's front entrance. People threw dogs and cats in the depositories when the shelter wasn't open. Dogs sat with cats, sick with the strong. Animals fought and injured one another, she was told.
"We're not a bank, we're not a dry cleaner," said Ms. Williamson, now the shelter's animal welfare and quality control coordinator.
She boarded up the doors. She brightened the shelter with light-blue and turquoise paint. She bought cat litter boxes.
Irving officials are now tackling other issues, including last year's approximately 70 percent euthanasia rate and allegations of wrongdoing, such as animals being killed without their owners' consent. A former animal control officer has filed a lawsuit, saying the city retaliated against her after she reported shelter violations, including controlled drugs missing from the shelter and animals being improperly killed.
Animal advocates and residents stormed City Hall this month to criticize the shelter's hesitation in turning over a sick, malnourished dog to a rescue group for medical treatment. The shelter eventually gave the dog to advocates, who named him Irving.A review of shelter operations is under way. Irving officials have held focus groups to get resident feedback. The city also is working with a group that traps, sterilizes and releases feral cats.
The shelter has hired a part-time veterinarian and wants to hire a full-time veterinarian. Irving voters will decide in November whether to build a new shelter.
"I don't want to be at the lower rung of the ladder," Ms. Williamson said. "I want to keep climbing and keep getting better."
Garland wants to make improvements, too. The city killed about 60 percent of its shelter animals – more than 5,500 – last year. The animal shelter needs to be expanded, former City Council member Terri Dunn said.
"It will have to be a priority," she said. "This is public safety."
The Garland shelter features Trixie, the shelter's fat black cat, who greets visitors at the front door. Also on staff: a veterinarian. Garland is among the minority of North Texas cities that sterilize animals on site.
A veterinarian improves a shelter's credibility, said Richard Briley, Garland's managing director of health.
"I don't know how shelters get by without one," he said.
Sterilization helps drive down a city's animal population and will probably lead to fewer animals coming through shelters, although that won't happen overnight, experts say. Aside from large cities, few Texas municipal shelters have on-site veterinarians because of the expense, said Sean Hawkins, president of Saving Animals Across Borders.
But sterilization is mandatory if cities want to make a difference, because animals breed quickly, Mr. Sabatucci said. In seven years, one female cat and her offspring can theoretically produce 420,000 cats, the Humane Society said.
While Texas state law requires most adopted animals to be spayed or neutered, cities are allowed to let owners take animals to veterinarians for sterilization. Enforcement is nonexistent, experts say.
"If you're sending out an intact animal, it's like you're pouring water into your own boat," said Kim Intino, director of animal sheltering issues for the Humane Society of the United States.
City shelters are trying to bolster adoptions to help put fewer animals to sleep. Many pet owners don't adopt animals from government-run shelters, experts say. Instead, they go to breeders or pet stores.
Some city shelters are reaching out to rescue groups. Ms. Christian's group, Tassie's Hope, looks for hard-to-adopt animals in about a dozen North Texas shelters. She usually leaves with an animal in her arms.
"When I walk out with an animal ... it's the biggest thrill," she said. "This one's going to be OK, healthy. This one's going to be placed in a home.
"It is making a difference."
Some cities post online "pet of the week" pictures or produce television programs to publicize adoption.
Mahala and John Ross visited the Plano animal shelter with their newborn son, looking for an addition to the family. They spotted a young black, white and tan female Corgi mix. Ms. Ross fell in love instantly.
"You guys are going to grow up together," she told her son. "You're going to be buddies."
To improve adoption chances, Ms. Williamson bathes animals. As the song "Let it Be" blared out of the stereo, Ms. Williamson carried a dirty poodle-Maltese mix out of his kennel. She soaped and rinsed the dog, who stuck his tongue out as the water cascaded off his ringlets.
"Doesn't that feel fresh?" she asked. "Oh honey. ... Goin' to the beauty salon."
But shelters can't adopt their way out of euthanasia, Ms. Intino said.
"You can adopt animals as often as you can and as quickly as you can," she said, "but you're emptying the ocean with a spoon."
Some North Texas cities are building new shelters, hoping they'll lure visitors who will adopt more animals.
Tall windows let in natural light at Plano's shelter on Plano Parkway. Glass partitions separate visitors from cats and dogs, making the place sound more like a library. The shelter's location makes it easier for motorists to visit, said Keith Clark, Plano's former animal services manager. One Saturday this year, 400 people dropped by.
"A restaurant would be happy to have that kind of traffic," he said.
Plano killed nearly 1,200 of its animals last year, or about 17 percent, considerably fewer than other North Texas cities.
The Plano shelter's $1.5 million annual budget might help, too. Meanwhile, Garland has a nearly $1.1 million budget; Irving's budget is about $730,000.
In addition to investing in shelter operations, experts say that cities should offer programs that engage residents because people neglect their pets or give up on them.
Fort Worth has beefed up enforcement efforts, issuing more citations and warnings for owners who neglect their animals, said Keane Menefee, Fort Worth animal control supervisor. Residents who've been cited can try to get their tickets dismissed in part by attending a two-hour course, which includes watching a video and getting a shelter tour.
"When you start seeing dogs behind cages and cats behind cages everywhere you look," Mr. Menefee said, "it starts to sink in."
While many city shelters are trying different approaches to improve animal care, they can't do it alone, experts say.
Shelters need more imaginative leaders and more financial support from politicians, officials say. Shelters should get more involved in the community, said Ms. Christian with the rescue group.
"No single group can address this problem on its own," said Mr. Hawkins with Saving Animals Across Borders. "It's just out of control."
09:39 AM CDT on Sunday, September 24, 2006
By ERIC AASEN / The Dallas Morning News
For many homeless animals, a trip to a city animal shelter is a ticket to death row. If they're not adopted or rescued within a few days, they're usually killed.
North Texas' largest city-run shelters euthanized more than 82,000 dogs and cats last year. That's 1,600 a week, 225 a day.
Many were perfectly healthy.
But some proactive shelters are trying to send more animals out the front door instead of the back. Some are hiring veterinarians to sterilize animals. Others are working to increase adoptions. Some are building new shelters to increase capacity and be more visible in the community.
The shelters are adjusting to a society that treats pets like family members, from pampering them at dog washes and boutiques to spending thousands of dollars on medical treatments.
Improving municipal animal shelters requires effort and funding, but animal advocates say it's worth the investment.
"It speaks volumes about a society about how we treat the most vulnerable," said Dana Christian, co-director of Tassie's Hope Animal Rescue, a Carrollton-based group. "Homeless animals are the most vulnerable."
Cities have a long way to go. Euthanasia rates are high at many North Texas city shelters, according to a review by The Dallas Morning News of a decade's worth of records from about 30 cities. Dallas killed 82 percent of its shelter animals last year – more than 25,000. Fort Worth put down 66 percent of its animals – nearly 15,000.
The rates are high partly because municipal shelters can't turn away animals like some private shelters do – they are shelters of last resort.
In addition, several area cities have seen more animals enter their shelters in recent years, which could be the result of human population growth or because not enough animals are being sterilized.
Many city shelters want to do better, but they're understaffed, underfunded, overwhelmed and overworked, said James Bias, SPCA of Texas president. Some cities, however, are improving their shelters because it helps a community's quality of life, he said.
"It's not an animal business, it's a people business," said Jay Sabatucci, regional program manager for the Humane Society of the United States' Southwest Regional Office. "City councils and ... [city] management are starting to realize that."
Irving is starting to catch on.
When Susie Williamson took over the city animal shelter last year, she knew there was room for improvement.
Most disturbing, she said, were two depository doors near the shelter's front entrance. People threw dogs and cats in the depositories when the shelter wasn't open. Dogs sat with cats, sick with the strong. Animals fought and injured one another, she was told.
"We're not a bank, we're not a dry cleaner," said Ms. Williamson, now the shelter's animal welfare and quality control coordinator.
She boarded up the doors. She brightened the shelter with light-blue and turquoise paint. She bought cat litter boxes.
Irving officials are now tackling other issues, including last year's approximately 70 percent euthanasia rate and allegations of wrongdoing, such as animals being killed without their owners' consent. A former animal control officer has filed a lawsuit, saying the city retaliated against her after she reported shelter violations, including controlled drugs missing from the shelter and animals being improperly killed.
Animal advocates and residents stormed City Hall this month to criticize the shelter's hesitation in turning over a sick, malnourished dog to a rescue group for medical treatment. The shelter eventually gave the dog to advocates, who named him Irving.A review of shelter operations is under way. Irving officials have held focus groups to get resident feedback. The city also is working with a group that traps, sterilizes and releases feral cats.
The shelter has hired a part-time veterinarian and wants to hire a full-time veterinarian. Irving voters will decide in November whether to build a new shelter.
"I don't want to be at the lower rung of the ladder," Ms. Williamson said. "I want to keep climbing and keep getting better."
Garland wants to make improvements, too. The city killed about 60 percent of its shelter animals – more than 5,500 – last year. The animal shelter needs to be expanded, former City Council member Terri Dunn said.
"It will have to be a priority," she said. "This is public safety."
The Garland shelter features Trixie, the shelter's fat black cat, who greets visitors at the front door. Also on staff: a veterinarian. Garland is among the minority of North Texas cities that sterilize animals on site.
A veterinarian improves a shelter's credibility, said Richard Briley, Garland's managing director of health.
"I don't know how shelters get by without one," he said.
Sterilization helps drive down a city's animal population and will probably lead to fewer animals coming through shelters, although that won't happen overnight, experts say. Aside from large cities, few Texas municipal shelters have on-site veterinarians because of the expense, said Sean Hawkins, president of Saving Animals Across Borders.
But sterilization is mandatory if cities want to make a difference, because animals breed quickly, Mr. Sabatucci said. In seven years, one female cat and her offspring can theoretically produce 420,000 cats, the Humane Society said.
While Texas state law requires most adopted animals to be spayed or neutered, cities are allowed to let owners take animals to veterinarians for sterilization. Enforcement is nonexistent, experts say.
"If you're sending out an intact animal, it's like you're pouring water into your own boat," said Kim Intino, director of animal sheltering issues for the Humane Society of the United States.
City shelters are trying to bolster adoptions to help put fewer animals to sleep. Many pet owners don't adopt animals from government-run shelters, experts say. Instead, they go to breeders or pet stores.
Some city shelters are reaching out to rescue groups. Ms. Christian's group, Tassie's Hope, looks for hard-to-adopt animals in about a dozen North Texas shelters. She usually leaves with an animal in her arms.
"When I walk out with an animal ... it's the biggest thrill," she said. "This one's going to be OK, healthy. This one's going to be placed in a home.
"It is making a difference."
Some cities post online "pet of the week" pictures or produce television programs to publicize adoption.
Mahala and John Ross visited the Plano animal shelter with their newborn son, looking for an addition to the family. They spotted a young black, white and tan female Corgi mix. Ms. Ross fell in love instantly.
"You guys are going to grow up together," she told her son. "You're going to be buddies."
To improve adoption chances, Ms. Williamson bathes animals. As the song "Let it Be" blared out of the stereo, Ms. Williamson carried a dirty poodle-Maltese mix out of his kennel. She soaped and rinsed the dog, who stuck his tongue out as the water cascaded off his ringlets.
"Doesn't that feel fresh?" she asked. "Oh honey. ... Goin' to the beauty salon."
But shelters can't adopt their way out of euthanasia, Ms. Intino said.
"You can adopt animals as often as you can and as quickly as you can," she said, "but you're emptying the ocean with a spoon."
Some North Texas cities are building new shelters, hoping they'll lure visitors who will adopt more animals.
Tall windows let in natural light at Plano's shelter on Plano Parkway. Glass partitions separate visitors from cats and dogs, making the place sound more like a library. The shelter's location makes it easier for motorists to visit, said Keith Clark, Plano's former animal services manager. One Saturday this year, 400 people dropped by.
"A restaurant would be happy to have that kind of traffic," he said.
Plano killed nearly 1,200 of its animals last year, or about 17 percent, considerably fewer than other North Texas cities.
The Plano shelter's $1.5 million annual budget might help, too. Meanwhile, Garland has a nearly $1.1 million budget; Irving's budget is about $730,000.
In addition to investing in shelter operations, experts say that cities should offer programs that engage residents because people neglect their pets or give up on them.
Fort Worth has beefed up enforcement efforts, issuing more citations and warnings for owners who neglect their animals, said Keane Menefee, Fort Worth animal control supervisor. Residents who've been cited can try to get their tickets dismissed in part by attending a two-hour course, which includes watching a video and getting a shelter tour.
"When you start seeing dogs behind cages and cats behind cages everywhere you look," Mr. Menefee said, "it starts to sink in."
While many city shelters are trying different approaches to improve animal care, they can't do it alone, experts say.
Shelters need more imaginative leaders and more financial support from politicians, officials say. Shelters should get more involved in the community, said Ms. Christian with the rescue group.
"No single group can address this problem on its own," said Mr. Hawkins with Saving Animals Across Borders. "It's just out of control."
MICHAEL AINSWORTH/DMN
Patrick is one of the cats waiting to be adopted at the Plano animal shelter.
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