Doggie Diva

PHS Shelter Employee Adoptions

Aug. 23, 2005

By Kyra Kirkwood

 

I've often said, there's no way I could work at an animal shelter because I'd bring my work home with me. Literally. Turns out I'm not so different than those folks at the Pasadena Humane Society and SPCA. Although they are faced with the problems of overpopulation, irresponsible owners, unwanted pets and injuries, they have not turned their hearts to stone. A pair of soulful brown eyes was often all it took to melt that line between business and pleasure, and made them pack their work up in the back of the car and give it a forever home.

 

And in true shelter-dog fashion, these dogs gave something back, from tending to orphaned kitties to easing the minds of Alzheimer's patients. These adopted companions didn't just become part of the employees' livesÑthey enriched them.

 

 

CLAIRE

 

It was a twice-returned "100-percent mutt" that captivated the heart of Jennifer Warner, webmaster and adoptions at the shelter. What originally appeared to be a destructive, fearful dog turned out to be an extra-ordinarily nurturing soul with a desire to help others the way she was helped herself.

 

"Claire, like all pets that are loved, gives me unconditional love in return," said Warner. "You can't get anything better than that."

 

In 1999, nine-month-old Claire returned yet again for behavior problems ranging from aggressive barking to chewing. By that time, nearly three months of her short life had been spent inside kennel walls.

 

"When she was returned that last time, I knew it would be me that would be taking her home next," she said.

 

Warner plunged head-first into this training project, with the help of the shelter's adoptions and behavior staff. It took months for the energetic and oft-fearful Claire to cease eating furniture, barking, growling, lunging at the house cats. Part of her ongoing socialization entailed joining Warner at work.

 

"When I first took in a litter of underage kittens to foster in my office, that

  was another matter," Warner said. "Claire watched them very, very closely."

 

But before long, Claire took them under her wing, acting like a dedicated foster mom. She'd curl up with the orphans, lick them tenderly, respond to their panicky meows.

 

" I think Claire is a nurturing soul. Those little kitties are so helpless and needy," said Warner. "She watches out for them too."

 

Especially the "Itty Bitty Cactus Kitty."

 

One evening on a walk at home, Claire began pulling violently over toward a patch of cacti across the street. Warner had no choice but to give in to the 50-pound dog, who seemed in a second to forget all of her extensive training.

 

"I had never seen her be so determined and not listen to me like that," remarked Warner.

 

Suddenly, she heard the sound that inspired Claire's superhero manners: the cries of a tiny kitten trapped in a patch of cacti.  Warner couldn't see the cat, or even get to it if she could. But Claire refused to give up. Within five minutes,  she led Warner right to the four-week-old abandoned kitten.

 

"She fit right in with my other foster kitties at work, and was definitely one of Claire's favorites," said Warner.

 

So what inspired this former cat-chaser to become the patron saint of abandoned babies? Warner's not sure, and Claire's not talking, but it could be that maybe she's trying to aid other lost souls who need a helping hand. Just like Warner did for her.

 

PRINCESS PEANUT

 

This pint-sized pooch may be small, but her 10-year-old heart is 10-times her size. Loved by Vice President of Financial Development Marguerite Duncan and the rest of the department, Princess  "has plenty of personality to spare and a paws-itive  perspective," says Mia Dunn,  events coordinator.

 

This 10-year-old Chihuahua found herself lost and alone, with a mangled leg due to a past injury that never healed properly. After about a month in the shelter's veterinary hospital, it was determined that Princess would not be helped by further surgery to correct the ailment, especially since she seemed to get around just fine on her good limbs, said Duncan, who fell in love with and adopted the little pup this past winter.

 

"She's essentially a three-legged Chihuahua who rules the world," she said.

 

Princess often spends her days at the shelter with Duncan, not only enjoying the loving company of humans, but helping them see a living, breathing example of what good the shelter and its programs can do to help older, injured, handicapped and in-need animals heal and find forever homes.

 

"She's our mascot," said Duncan. "She symbolizes so clearly what we do here. She has a total win attitude. She's a real inspiration."

 

HARRY

 

Penny Scott-Fox, behavior specialist, avoided falling madly in love with every dog to cross those shelter gates. 

 

"And then I met Harry."

 

This floppy, seven-month-old Doberman/Labrador mix arrived at the shelter one February day in 2002. into the shelter on February 7th, 2002.  Someone had shaved his side and performed what Scott-Fox said were some type of medical investigations. The shy Harry stayed at the back of his kennel as if he was waiting for his owners to arrive, which they never did. Scott-Fox needed to find an "everyday-looking" dog to use in a photo shoot for the shelter, and she chose Harry.

 

"I had to train him to lie down on a bench between two animal control officers, which is no mean feat considering what most dogs think of guys in uniform but he was fine," she said. 

 

And the bond began.

 

Every time Scott-Fox walked past Harry's kennel, he'd leap up to greet her with the exuberance of a preschooler at a candy store. Always ready to please, Harry became the ideal student.

 

"I continued to train him, thinking that someone would just love him. But then it hit

me: he was my dog."

 

Harry went home with Scott-Fox and her four-year-old son, two Beagles and two catsÑall who loved him. He experienced some fear at first, and had no idea what a toy was much less what to do with it. As he began to find his comfort zone and fully appreciate this new life, Harry would bound through the house, knocking things off with his never-ceasing tail. This is how he got the nickname "wapasaurus" from Scott-Fox's son.

 

"I don't think I have ever owned a dog quite like Harry," said Scott-Fox. "He is extraordinary in every way. He is the most socially appropriate dog I know and can defuse any situation without a fight.  " 

 

Continuing with the training lessons that bonded them together, Scott-Fox enrolled Harry in agility courses and attended a English Working Trials course. This three-part program includes an obedience section, a scent-oriented search for articles and an agility course. Harry found his niche.

 

According to Scott-Fox, Working Trials involve the evaluation of a dog and handler working as a team to perform activities that each alone could not perform.

 

"In the process, the dog's intelligence, attention, physical prowess, focus and drive are tested, as well as the handler's ability to read, direct and train the dog," she said.

 

This fall will be Harry's first competition; if he qualifies, he will be the first mixed-breed shelter dog to achieve this rank in the United States.

 

"[These dogs] get such a kick about showing off their extraordinary ability to do things that people can't even imagine," Scott-Fox said. "And you know that not only are they enjoying it, but they are doing it to make you so proud and happyÉHarry is incredible and an extraordinary member of my family."

 

Not bad for a half-shaved, unwanted, shy dog no one wanted.

 

 

MEESHKA

 

Nicole Laurent , behavior and training coordinator for the shelter, walked through the rows of cages one day in 2002 and immediately spotted a sad pup who wouldn't move. The note on her kennel read: "I was born with three good legs and I am  not in any pain. I would make a wonderful pet." 

 

"I realized that she wouldn't be most people's first choice in adopting," said Laurent, who immediately began the adoption process herself to save this two-year-old from a tragic outcome.

 

Every day for a week, Laurent visited the German Shepherd/Golden Retriever/Chow mix, who had one leg four inches shorter than the rest. Sitting outside her kennel, she would talk to the depressed, unresponsive dog.

 

"[But] The day I brought her home, she stood up and was ready  to go with me. We have been inseparable ever since."

 

It turns out that Meeshka, now 5, is unable to use both of her back legs, which have rods in them. She does walk, but has limited range of motion. Laurent's veterinarian suspects that in addition to the birth defect, the dog was hit by a car in her younger years. 

 

But don't tell Meeshka she's handicapped. She runs, jumps and plays.  

 

"She just doesn't have any brakes."

 

She takes her spunk and spirit on the road, too, acting as a therapy dog. Back in 2000 when Laurent was a volunteer at the shelter, Meeshka (who was named after the doll in "Don't Say a Word"), became a Companion Animal Program dog, visiting senior citizens at local senior centers. Later, she helped children visiting the shelter learn how to socialize properly with dogs. Meeshka has even worked her magic on Laurent's familyÑincluding her father, who is a former dog-avoider now turned proud dog fanatic, and her fearful relatives who now adore this pup.

 

"She loves the attention," said Laurent. "Absolutely adores the attention. Everyone just bonds to her so quickly, especially children with disabilities."

 

Laurent thinks Meeshka is such a giving soul because she understands she was given a second chance, and she is loved every day. Perhaps she's trying to give a little back.

 

"I truly wish the other dogs who get adopted could have the life that she's having," said Laurent, speaking as Meeshka napped quietly on the couch in Laurent's office. "I wish the dogs that are here at the shelter could go home and get the attention she gets. I'm grateful to so many people who love her."

 

CHARLEY

 

In 1997, before she became PHSSPCA's vice president of Community Resources, Ricky Whitman at the shelter to meet her friend for lunch, and wound up meeting a huge love of her life. Always a big-dog person, Whitman never imagined she's fall for a pup that day, especially not a 14-pound, eight-year-old Miniature Schnauzer with matted fur with a rapidly wagging tail.

 

"[He] just stole my heart," said Whitman.

 

She took some time (through lunch) to decide if this was a right move for her, her family and her "dog son" Nick, a 60-pound Aussie-Husky mix. Before long, Charley the Schnauzer arrived home, and now, at 17 years old, is still a source of joy and light for Whitman. Every day, Nick and the nearly toothless Charley play and love embarking on their favorite game of "chase the Kong."

 

"Throughout the ups and downs of a normal life, no experience is ordinary with a dog like Charley," said Whitman. "He is always willing to help in any way possible and is ready for an adventure, whether it is a ride in the car, chasing a squirrel or helping me plant in my yard."

 

About five years ago, Charley welcomed his new sister into the pack, and is constantly trying to either play with her or keep her clean, said Whitman. His few health issues (lack of teeth, arthritis, a touch of heart disease) don't hold him back in living life to the fullest. Not bad for a dog that once looked like a matted furball.

 

"An enlarged heart is only a symbol for his good nature," said Whitman. "Charley lives his life as a senior dog with grace, humor, delight and curiosityÑall characteristics that have enriched my life immeasurably."

 

Despite her initial questioning of adopting a "small" dog, Whitman now knows the truth about this shelter dog who tries so hard to give back.

 

"Charley happens to be one of the biggest dogs I have known."

 

 

 

 

SIDEBAR PHOTO

 

Although this is the Doggie Diva column, I'm taking a quick hop to the other side to tell the tale of Ben, a rescued cat whose golden glow illustrates his love and ability to warm anyone's heart, said his owner, Liz Baronowski, Vice President of Educational Outreach. Ben's previous owners couldn't keep him, and his openness to humans plucked at Baronowski's heart. Now, "gentle" Ben is  a therapy cat at the shelter, helping to soothe, greet and educate all he comes in contact with.