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Behind
the kennel: Love and companionship
by Sean Oakley
Feature Beat
Rita's hands
tremble slightly as she cups a handful of M & M's in one hand and
slowly moves them to her mouth with the other. Her house, old and
empty, eerily creaks as it takes the full force of the lightning
storm outside.
Rita had reached
her later seventies. Her husband fell victim to a heart attack ten
years ago. In a house once filled with the laughter of children,
a sad silence now prevails. She sits quietly watching TV in her
dimly lit den.
At times the
lightning seems to shake the house, but it never scares Captain
away from his strategically placed post between the window and Rita.
Captain is an aging Golden Retriever who faithfully barks warnings
at the thundering storm outside. He is Rita's best friend and constant
companion. He will remain by by her side until he passes away.
Stories like
this are not unusual. The undying devotion of a dog holds a special
place in its owner's heart. Unfortunately, owners aren't always
as giving. Thousands of dogs are abandoned every day. Most find
their way into animal shelters, and hopefully, new homes. While
the national adoption rate hovers around 13 percent, many dogs are
put to sleep to make room for others--quite a harsh reality for
man's best friend.
Lynn Northup,
who runs the Watauga Humane Society, says, "Unfortunately, many
people think of dogs as disposable merchandise."
The Watauga
shelter is located on Casey Lane off of Daniel Boone Dr., right
next to the Greenway Trail. "If you're going to get an animal, you
need to commit for life," says Northup, trying to speak over a shaggy,
light-brown dog barking behind her. "That's Woody; he was here when
I came here.
They said he
was the resident shelter dog." Woody, outspoken but very friendly,
watches all visitors as they pass the front desk. Woody is a small
dog and spends much of his time dodging the hurried footsteps of
attendants behind the desk. Whitening fur hangs down from his mouth
and creates a beard that symbolizes his age and wisdom. Lynn opens
the door and Woody runs quickly outside to greet the guests around
the pens. Northup, though busy, watches him take off and smiles.
In the next room, a family sits in a room filled with cats.
They spend time
meeting their potential future pets. A little girl laughs as a friendly
black-and-white feline jumps on her lap. Norhthup has previously
worked at animal shelters in Chapel Hill, Sanford and New Orleans,
Louisiana. She came to Watauga only a week-and-a-half ago and says
she still has a lot to do to get acquainted with the facilities.
Northup quit her nursing job to take care of animals, and that in
itself speaks volumes about her devotion to those she cares for.
But words cannot
convey the motherly look in her eye. Outside the shelter, four pens,
housing several dogs a piece, sit side by side. Dogs run and play
in each pen, stopping occasionally to plead with visitors through
a chain-link fence. The puppies are obviously the main attraction.
The dog pens
at Watauga look very different than those at other shelters. Northup
says that the shelters she has worked at in the past have all had
kennel-like setups, where each dog had its own cage and outside
area. She says that this arragenment makes things a lot easier.
Two dogs in
a neighboring pen get into a fight, leaving one with a bleeding
gash on his chest, and the hassles of group housing become obvious.
One of the employees leads the injured dog back through a door to
the facilities behind the pens. Once there, she uses iodine and
applies pressure to heal the wound. The attacker, a large dog with
long black hair who appears to have some Golden Retriever in him,
merrily runs around as if nothing happened.
In the back,
Northup and her assistant discuss what to do about the problem.
It wouldn't be fair to keep the injured dog in the back, but the
two must be separated. They decide to allow one to spend a day outside
while the other stays in, and then alternate. In another pen, a
group of teenagers are picking out their favorite companions.
Northup says
they come here every week and take a few dogs on a walk around the
Greenway. She says that people who love dogs but know they can't
own them are "welcome to come out and take a dog for a walk."
One of the
teenage boys attaches a leash to a beautiful black lab who is only
five weeks old. According to Northup, he is a pure bred and was
dropped off last week by a family that couldn't keep him. He doesn't
seem to remember what happened, though, as he pulls hard on the
leash, jumping up and down once he gets past the gate. A girl picks
out a fluffy white dog named Barney. Barney is a little older and
a little calmer, but still wags his tail excitedly at the prospect
of an open landscape. Northup explains that most of the dogs are
dropped off by owners who simply can't take care of them anymore.
Some stray dogs are found and brought to Watauga, and for those,
every effort is made to contact the owner.
Northup keeps
these dogs for five days before allowing anyone other than the owner
to adopt them. North Carolina law only requires a seventy-two hour
waiting period, but Northup understands the pain of losing a friend.
Behind the dog
pen is a kennel-like building that contains roughly ten indoor cages,
which is where Northup says they keep their new arrivals. Only four
are currently occupied. The shelter makes sure that all newcomers
are vaccinated and healthy before they are released into the pens
with the other dogs.
One of the cages
houses a skinny Red Bone Hound. Northup's eyes soften as she passes.
She opens the cage to pet the hound, who is startled by her touch.
This newcomer was brought in yesterday by someone who found her
lost in the woods. She has a collar and name tag, and Northup has
called the owners, who didn't even realize she was gone.
They are coming
to pick her up this afternoon. "So sad," Northup says. But on a
more uplifting note, the Watauga shelter has an adoption rate consistently
above 80 percent, which is very immpressive considering the 13-percent
national average. And although having to put some dogs to sleep
is inevitable, there is no set time limit at Watauga.
Putting dogs
to sleep is the final option, used only after adoption has been
ruled out. For those interested in adopting a dog, puppies cost
fifty dollars and dogs older than three months cost fifty-five.
The price includes
deworming, spaying or neutering, and all necessary vaccinations,
including rabies. Northup points out that the average per-year cost
of owning a dog runs between three- and four-hundred dollars, and
that figure doesn't even include food or any unforseen problems
such as sickness or injury. By far, the benefits of owning a dog
far outweigh the costs.
No monetary
value can possibly be placed on the companionship and love that
a dog has to offer. Asking nothing more than a feeding hand and
a caring heart, a dog will faithfully serve its owner, and that
should be an inspiration for all of humankind.
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