Can't find cute dogs at the shelter?

One of my neighbors adopted 2 "hypo-allergenic" dogs from our local shelter (she has terrible allergies). They're really great dogs.

so sad to know that so young cute dog will be landed in the shelter...[&o] but there are always good looking dog or cute dog in the shelter one..cos there is always ppl dumping dog...[:@]

For anyone in a metro/suburb area who has a lot of shelters to choose from, be sure to drive a few extra miles to check out the ones that are a little "different" from yours.  In the heart of the suburbs here, the shelters are full of med/large mix breeds (heavy on the lab, pit, bc).  Only 20 miles further out in a "rural" area and suddenly there are chis, minpins, tiny terriers and all sorts of things that surprised me.

Same here. We haven't seen a lot of Labrador x poodle mixes (thank goodness) but we see a lot of Shih Tzus, Chihuahuas, cocker spaniels, and Yorkies. I have also seen quite a few Yorkie x Poodle mixes.

They also had a pure bred English bulldog a couple of months ago. Had an Italian Greyhound… These are dogs you don't come by easily…

If you want a dog you can find one at a shelter if you look hard enough. ANY shelter around here will ship dogs to approved homes anywhere in the country. We will also take any dog back if the adopter is not satisfied or anything happens to where the adopter can no longer keep the animal.

Not to be rude but all of these people are impatient and want a dog yesterday. I was the same way too, but things didnt turn out so well for me.

I ended up with an epileptic Dalmatian from a BYB who has to be on meds for the rest of his life.

I try to tell people my story but I dont think any listen. They think it wont happen to them but I didnt think it would happen to me either until he started having seizures when he was 2.

Why am I the only one who finds cute dogs at the shelter?

 
A lot of people have preconceived notions about what they want. Their criteria list is so long that the only really cute dog that they will truly love is a stuffed animal toy dog.
 
I think if you love dogs like most people on this forum, you will love any dog at that shelter.  And you will find him/her adorable and that love is just going to grow from day 1 on.

I got Zoe, a then 1.5 yr. old mini dachshund at the mdSPCA and then we just got adorable Jake, 11 mth. old Golden/Collie mix at a less visited shelter about 30 min. away.  We had been looking for a golden but the rescue groups kept not getting back to us or the ones we liked had been adopted.  One call to the shelter to see they had a golden and off we went.  He won our hearts on first sight.

The town I grew up in had two shelters- the Humane Society, and the City Pound. The Humane Society is "nice"....no-kill, high adoption fees, clean facility, etc. They pick and choose every single animal that comes through their doors...if the dog someone wants to surrender isn't small or cute enough, they send you across the street to the city pound.
 
People ONLY adopt from the Humane Society. People assume that all of the dogs at the city pound are there because they bit someone, ran away, or were too old, ugly, or poorly behaved to be "worthy" of going to the Humane Society. That somehow, the $400 adoption fee at the Humane Society makes the dog "worth more" than the dogs littermate going for $50 bucks at the pound.
 
I got Ogre and Axl from the pound...I refuse to set foot in that humane society, for a variety of reasons. Whenever I tell epople that they came from there, they're shocked- they would never think that a dog from the pound could in any way be worthwhile.
 
In my experience, the dogs at the pound are WAY better than the dogs at that humane society. The humane society takes in alot of very small mutts, generic looking lab mixes, and various "yuppie" breeds...because that's what people seem to want in that very suburban town. I'll be honest, most of the dogs in there are pretty darn boring looking, IMO.
 
The city pound though, always has so many fantastic little gems. The most gorgeous pit bulls and pit mixes imaginable, and TONS of purebreds- Rotties, Dobies, GSDs, various Spaniels and Setters, Goldens, Huskies...you name it, I've probably seen it at that pound. They also have tons of smaller breeds- poodles, poodle mixes, Bostons, Pugs...you name it. All of the dogs are gorgeous, most of them are young, and the adoption fee is low. Yet, out of all of the times I've been there, I have never seen one single other person looking at the dogs. [&o] They have a very, very high euthanasia rate...and they don't even bother to list their dogs on Petfinder.
 
Alot of it, I think, has to do with the perception that "run down city pound + low adoption fees = poorly behaved, sick, ugly, vicious, or old dogs." When asking people WHY they chose a BYB or puppy mill dog and not a shelter dog, I've seen more than one snarl in disgust at the idea of adopting someone's "used" pet. [&o] At best, they go to the humane society...not the pound.
 
And, as others have said, alot of it has to do with the "I want this and I want it NOW NOW NOW" mentality. People decide they want a dog and they're too selfish and lazy to put effort into getting the right one from a decent source. For many people, getting a dog ISN'T a life altering decision...because they're just going to stick it outside or crate it all day and largely ignore it. Or, play with it until it's no longer fun and discard it. Why would they put effort into finding the right dog when it's just going to serve as their lawn ornament or living stuffed animal for a few months before being discarded?
 
I think that everyone who wants to buy a BYB or mill bred dog should first have to pay a visit to the dirtiest, saddest, most run down, and overcrowded shelter imagineable. Look into the eyes of the dogs there who will probably be dead tomorrow, and see if they still want that fluffy Petland puppy. Sadly, I think many of them still would. []

Actually, around here it's a different story. This is the only animal shelter for a while and it's pretty much all GSD, lab, and BC mixes. Not that they aren't cute, but they aren't small or designer dogs.

I think it has to do with the area, though. It's all farmland around here and I think that affects the kind of dogs people want.

Interview at the Dog Pound
As a journalist, I decided to go to the dog pound, and interview some of the "inmates”. I wanted to know what it was like in there from their perspective. What follows is not for the faint of heart. I entered the building, and one of the workers accompanied me to the holding area. This is where dogs are kept before they are allowed up for adoption… IF they are allowed up for adoption. If the dogs are found to be aggressive in any way, euthanasia is employed. Fortunately, if "fortunately” is the word to be used here… this is a Canadian establishment, and they use lethal injection, not a gas chamber. The pound worker led me past a big steel door that says "Employees Only”. "What is in there?” I asked. From the look he gave me, I knew that this is where dogs go in, and never return.
We moved on to a row of kennels. The dogs were barking loudly, there was the acrid smell of urine and feces, and a feeling of despair seemed to permeate the room.
"Go ahead,” the worker said. "They're all yours.”
Pete
I looked into the first kennel, and saw only the back of a medium sized dog who was curled up in the corner of his kennel, shivering. He was mostly white, with some black spots. "Hello?” I said. "May I come in?” He lifted his head, as though it weighed more than he could bear. When he looked at me, I could see he was a Pitbull. His eyes were gentle, but filled with grief. "Enter,” was all he said.
I stepped in, closing the gate behind me. He put his head back down, facing away from me. I crouched down a few feet away.
"My name is Pete. Petey my Master called me,” he said, still not looking at me.
"Why are you here Pete?” I asked.
"I am here because Master cannot afford to move to another province. I am here because someone with power said I am vicious, and a killer. Someone who never met me. Master took me for a walk one day, and some lady started to scream when she saw me. I got frightened, and barked at her. The dog police came, and they took me away. I have been with Master for 10 years. The last time I saw him, he just held me and cried. He kept telling me he was sorry. I worry for him. Whatever will he do without me?” Pete shivered even more. A tear slid down my face. I am supposed to remain objective, but this was wrong… so wrong. "Thank you Pete.” I said. He said nothing as I got up and left his kennel.
Popper
The kennel next to Pete's held a very young looking dog. Pure Border Collie by my guess. He stood on his hind legs, looking at me through the gate.
"Hello. My name's Popper." He tilted his head. "Are you here to take me home?”
"No, I'm sorry,” I replied. "But I would like to talk with you.”
”Sure. What would you like to talk about?”
"Popper, how did you come to be in this place?” I asked.
Popper dropped down from the gate, with a perplexed look on his face. He walked to the back of the kennel, then back to the front. I noticed he had one blue eye, and one brown. He was quite beautiful. His black and white coat was shiny and thick.
"I am not certain WHY I am here. I think maybe my family will come back for me. They bought me when I was only 6 weeks old. I remember they said how smart Border Collies are, and how it would be so easy to train me. They were very excited at first. The little ones played with me all the time. But the trouble with little Masters is, they refuse to stay in a group. I constantly had to nip their heels to keep them together.” He looked confused. "Why won't they stay in a group?” he sighed. "So I did what I thought I should do. I am not quite sure why the little ones screamed when I did my job, but they did, and the Masters got very angry at me. They also got angry when I had to relieve myself, and did so in the house. I am not sure where they expected me to go. All they said was that I was the smartest breed in the world, and I should just KNOW better. Then they left me in the yard for a month or so. I got bored a lot, and I dug holes in the grass. The next thing I knew, the Masters brought me here.”
Popper jumped back up on the gate, his white paws protruding through the links. He looked at me with his lovely eyes, and asked "Will you please let them know I want to come home? Please tell them I promise I will be good?”
"I will Popper,” I said.
Spartan
My heart was breaking. I was beginning to regret coming here, but their stories had to be told. I moved along. The next dog I saw looked to be easily 100 lbs., a Rottweiler. He was handsome indeed, except for the scars on his face and back. He tilted his head, and looked me right in the eyes.
"Hello. Who are you?” he asked.
"I am a reporter,” I replied. "May I speak with you for a little while?”
”Most certainly. My name is Spartan. You can come in, I won't bite,” he said.
"Thank you Spartan. I will.”
I entered his kennel, reached out and stroked his giant head. He made a loud grumbling noise, and closed his eyes.
"Spartan, why are you here?”
Before he could answer my question, he was suddenly in the grip of a nasty coughing spasm. It sounded painful.
"Please excuse me,” he said when it passed. "Kennel cough. It seems all of us who come in here get it.
"Why am I here? Well, about two years ago, I was born in the backyard of some person I can't even recall. I had 11 brothers and sisters. I recall a day when a big man came and gave that person some money, and took me away from my mother. They had to chain her up, as she was very angry that he took me. They chained her and beat her. I came to know the man by the name of Jim. I overheard him telling his friends that I would grow up to be big and mean like my mother. But as I grew older, all I wanted to do was play and be friends with everyone. Jim said I needed to be taught how to be mean, so he chained me up in the yard. No more house for me, he said, I was too spoiled. When people came by to visit, I was so happy to see them. I wanted them to come and play. But that made Jim angry, so he beat me with sticks and chains. When he came near, I would roll onto my back so he would know I wasn't a bad dog. That made him beat me more.” Spartan's eyes clouded with grief. "Then he brought me here.”
I reached out and stroked Spartan's massive gentle head once more. "I am so sorry Spartan. Some people are just plain evil.” I gave him a kiss and left his kennel. As I walked away, Spartan called out, "What will happen to me, nice lady?”
I shook my head. "I can't say Spartan. Maybe someone kind will come and get you. We can only hope.”
Patsy
I walked a little further down. I could see a shape moving at the back of the next kennel. "Hello?” I called out. Suddenly the shape lunged at the gate in a fury, barking and gnashing its teeth. I stumbled backwards, and crashed into an adjacent kennel. The other dogs began barking loudly and jumping at their gates.
"Don't go near her,” a small female voice came from behind me. "She's mad.”
I gathered myself back together, and saw a little Jack Russell Terrier behind me.
"Thanks for the warning,” I was still trembling. Across the way, the other dog, apparently a Husky and German Shepherd cross, was glaring at me, lips curled back revealing brown stained teeth. Her ribs and hips showed through her dull, matted grey coat.
The little dog invited me into her kennel, and I gladly went in.
"Who are you?”
"My name is Patsy.” The little brown and white dog held a paw up to the gate in greeting.
"My owner surrendered me. She said she wanted a cute little dog like the one on the TV show, Frasier. She didn't bother to look into the type of dog I am.” Patsy heaved a sigh.
"I suppose she expected me to just lie about and only need a short walk each day, just like Eddie, but my energy was so high that I needed to run and play.” She glanced at her surroundings. "Now I am here. I suppose it could be worse. I could be like…her.” Patsy looked towards the still growling dog across the way.
"What happened to make her so vicious?” I asked.
"From what we could gather,” she replied. "she was found tied in a back yard. She only had a three foot chain. Some days there was no water. Rarely was there any food. One day a nice neighbour came by and brought her some meat. By then it was too late. She was already mad. She broke off her chain, and bit the poor man badly. We know she will be going behind the steel door. I am sad to say, I think it will be best. Perhaps then she will know some peace.”
Just then, the door at the end of the building opened, and a woman stepped inside. All the dogs began to bark wildly, then one by one, they went quiet. I whispered to Patsy, "Who is that? Why have all the dogs gone quiet?”
Patsy breathed deeply through her little nose, and closed her eyes. "SHE is a Rescuer. Can't you smell it?” she asked.
"Smell what?” I was confused.
"Compassion. Love. Sorrow. It emanates from her pores. She is here for one of us, but nobody knows who just yet.” Patsy looked hopeful.
The Rescuer moved from kennel to kennel, looking at each dog. I sat quietly watching. I could see tears in her eyes as she made eye contact with each one. She stopped at Spartan's cage and spoke quietly to him.
"No more beatings my man. No more. You are coming with me. From here on in, it's all going to get better.” The Rescuer produced a leash, opened the kennel door, and took Spartan away. As he walked beside her, his little stubby tail wagged with delight.
Patsy sighed again. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and it grieved me. They all had the same look, as they watched The Rescuer depart.
"I am so sorry Patsy,” I said in a whisper. "But you are a little dog, and everyone loves little dogs. I am convinced you will be rescued soon.” Patsy's brown eyes twinkled at me, a little bit of hope returning. I had heard and seen enough. I needed to tell people how it was for these unfortunate creatures. They were all here through no fault of their own. I stood to leave. I passed by many other dogs I did not interview, looking at each one, wishing I could take them all home with me and give them the love they deserved.
I stood by the door taking one last glance back, when it opened, and one of the pound workers came in. His face was drawn and sad. He walked by without a word, and stopped at Pete's kennel. I heard him take a deep breath, then he paused, and opened the kennel door. The words were muffled, but I am sure I heard him say "I'm sorry old boy.”
He came out, with Petey in tow. The old dog's head hung down in resignation, and they both disappeared behind the big steel door.
--- Copyright
Sally Hull
July 6th/2006

When I lost my last Siberian, I filled out applications, emailed and hunted hi and low for rescues. The rerequisite was that we had children and an old cat. So, that probably didnt garner much efforts to respond.  It wasn't til mos later one person replied, for an Alaskan rescue..which I certainly would have grabbed up.  But alas, I had already found these two Siberians. I did not know so much about rescues and shelters as I have found out since reading about on here. 

Oh yeah, there's also a no-kill humane society, but they have all the same dogs. I went there recently because I was interested in a rescue (both dog and cat) and they were acting quite rude to me, and when I asked to see the dogs, they acted like it was a real chore that they didn't want to bother with.

After it was done, they said it was because I had baby Isaac with me! He said, "The fact that you have a kid doesn't help your cause."

I was really taken aback by that. From my experience, MOST dogs are fine with kids as long as the kids are respectful. If I do end up rescuing a dog, it won't be from them!

As far as being impatient and not wanting to wait, my fiance and I were the opposite. We knew we would rescue a dog...all my dogs growing up (3 of the 4 still enjoying my parents) were from the pound and he's only had one purebred. Patches (his family's dalmation) was taken in when his owner (a friend of thiers) died. We went to a shelter only intending to look. We knew it was a big decision. I had researched all the breeds we could have (weight and energy-wise). But when we got to the shelter we fell in love. The director told us that another woman had come the day before and was interested in adopting her, and had put a hold on her, and she might not be there the next day. So we took her home. And she's a sweetheart.

I think if people went to a shelter, they would be surprised by the darlings they find. Mine came from a whole litter (born in the shelter) of corgi/beagle mixes...small, cute dogs.

Our city has a Humane Society and the county animal control shelter.  Both are "kill".  The county shelter has to be kill b/c they're the ones who have the pits involved in criminal fighting or the dogs quarantined for rabies.  I don't know what their kill rate is, but I know they adopt out plenty of dogs and have a good relationship with the HS.  I work at the HS (chose over the county shelter because of a better facility) and we ONLY euthanize dogs that completely fail temperament tests or are old and in pain because of health problems.  We DONT euthanize them simply to make room.  Some dogs are in the shelter for months and months.  There's no such thing as a "death row".  Luckily, the city is large enough that there are plenty of other rescue shelters and breed rescues around and everyone seems to cooperate nicely.  For example, at the HS we have a pure GSP who should really only go to someone who knows GSPs.  He's been around forever, and I overheard employees talking about tryin to get him hooked up with a GSP breed rescue.  We also had a great dane and I contacted the great dane rescue (he got adopted by a dane owner right away though).

As for the cute toy dogs, we get a lot and they go the fastest, often to elderly people who prefer a small companion.  They move so fast, I never even see them on PetFinder b/c they are adopted before the listings are updated (which I believe is daily).  If people come in looking for a toy dog and don't see one, I assume they can fill out an application and ask to be contacted when a toy comes in.  At our shelter, they have to fill out an app and do and interview before they can pick a dog to meet.  They can come in and look at them and keep ones in mind, but they can't pet them or interact until they've passed the app and the interview.  This applies to everyone.  Even though some people understand how to pick a dog, most people don't and are only picking on looks or false information about certain breeds.

We got Winston from a shelter . . . albeit we drove 6 hours from home to get him, but a shelter dog none the less.  He was sure one ugly puppy though . . . . probably the ugliest dog we've ever seen . . . no wonder he was at a shelter.  []