The Perils of Placing Marginal Dogs

In 1998, I had been volunteering with shelter dogs for a couple of years and was firmly convinced that there was a home for every dog out there… somewhere. With training, socialization, and love, we could fix them all, and find amazing “unicorn homes” for those who were most troubled.  

A beautiful young Lab mix was returned to our shelter for growling at her new adopter. Rosie did not show any aggression toward me, and I wondered if the adopter had done something to her, or had perhaps just made it all up. I took her to the facility where I was an apprentice trainer, and it was quickly evident she was not good with other dogs. No problem, I’d just find her an ”only pet home.”

I asked my friends John and Mindy to take Rosie in for a few days, observe her, and see if this young dog might be adoptable. As I had secretly hoped, my “unicorn” childless, petless friends promptly fell in love with Rosie and decided they would adopt her.  

Rosie never growled at adults in her new home, but she remainedpretty dangerous toward other animals - lunging and barking at dogs, and chasing smaller animals in a predatory manner. That’s OK - John and Mindy just needed to keep her away from animals, as best they could. Surely with good management and training, they could keep her safe forever.

I was really happy about “saving” another dog from certain euthanasia, and went on with my life, assuming all would be well. If I hadn’t known John and Mindy personally, the story would have ended there, and I would have assumed everyone lived happily everafter. How many of us truly do long-term follow up on our shelter dogs?

Several years later, I found myself living in a different country, and my Dunning-Kruger halo had begun to slip. I started to realize how little I actually knew when I placed Rosie. After attending many seminars and conferences, and learning from some of the best trainers and behaviorists in the business, I was on a whole new learning curve, working toward a Master’s degree in animal behavior. And I was beginning to see how my ignorance had traumatized these adopters.

Over these years, John and Mindy put a ton of time, money and work into Rosie. They hired trainers. Brought in dog walkers to exercise and enrich their dog while they were at work. They tried various training methods, from cookies to choke chains, but nothing put a real dent in Rosie’s dog aggression and prey drive. 

Rosie was always social with adults, but no one had a magic soluction for her many triggers, aside from just keeping her away from them. (She had started to include going after children as well as animals...)  

Once, Rosie broke a leash and crossed a road to attack a dog, injuring John to the point he had to go to the emergency room after breaking up the fight. This young family couldn’t take advantage of all the amazing things the West Coast of Canada has to offer, with such a troubled dog. Rosie missed out on family vacations, and visiting the dog beaches and parks was an impossible dream.

Rosie’s no good, very bad last day finally happened, four years after her adoption. Here is the letter John sent me, shared with his permission.

Hi Trish,

Hope all’s well with you and with your pooches.

I thought you might appreciate knowing that Rosie is no longer with us. Having been through this kind of thing with Chinook, I think maybe you’d understand. 

It wasn’t the two skunks or the flying crow she nabbed out of the air or the tail she bit off that squirrel. It wasn’t even the three cats of the same house she killed in our yard, the second one she slew in full view of our neighbours—the cat’s owners—from their balcony.

The last straw was when our dog walker was walking Rosie on her leash about five weeks ago along Nanaimo Street. A little cocker spaniel stuck its head out from under the gate and yapped at Rosie. Big mistake.

With lightning speed Rosie had the little dog by the head and yanked it out under the gate, tearing the gate off its hinges. By the end of it the little dog survived (thank God) and I had Rosie at the Granville Island vet for a date with the blue juice. Mindy was in Ontario for her grandfather’s funeral, so the task lay on me to find a good vet who’d do the task. A lot of places simply won’t euthanize a physically healthy animal.

I found a young, very compassionate vet at Granville who heard my long story of Rosie and read my letter from the trainer, Scott. Dr. Clancy agreed to do it. He was very impressed with Rosie. She was obviously very healthy, well trained, loving. When the moment came I told her it was alright (what a big lie!) and she gave me that trusting look. The doctor pushed in the plunger.

Rosie stood up, slipped off the table into the arms of Dr. Clancy, and by the time he placed her back on the table she was gone. It was as if someone passed a hand over my face and when done, Rosie was gone and another dog was lying there. A damn good-looking one, I might add, but it wasn’t Rosie.

Anyhow, we’ve done our social responsibility with reject pound dogs so we hope to get a puppy in an upcoming litter of Hungarian Vizsla, which are a rust-coloured, short-haired pointing dog. Good-looking, friendly, predictable.

So, Trish, there you go. Such a sad tale. We loved that dog so much, but there was nothing we could do in the end to prevent this denouement. It’s a great relief actually, but it’s a little like losing a family member—well, nowhere near as bad, but sort of that way. I know you’ve been through this too.

 -John B.

Over the 20 years since Rosie’s euthanasia, my views on placing marginal dogs have changed—a lot. I’ve come to believe that shelters should be where people come to get the best dogs, not to become expert trainers or to have their bank accounts drained. My own super friendly second-hand dogs are a walking advertisement for rescue dogs.

But it still haunts me, decades later, this trail of destruction I left behind by “saving” that one dog. Beloved pets were injured and killed because of my decision. My friends were hurt, mentally and physically. John and Mindy told me that they will never adopt a “reject pound dog” again. Do you think their neighbors will? Their family? Their coworkers, who heard four years of Rosie stories? How many shelter dogs will not get homes with all these people,because I got greedy over one dog that I thought should be saved, in another city all those years ago?

It’s humbling work, this.

2022 update:

Shortly after euthanizing Rosie in 2002, John and Mindy purchased a Vizsla from a local breeder, and Trigger lived with the family for fourteen amazing years. I met him, a sweet, sociable dog who sat on my lap and snuggled like a champ. He went on vacation, frequented the dog beaches, lived in peace with the neighborhood cats, and eventually helped John and Mindy raise their daughter.

After Trigger died of old age, guess where this family went for their next dog? Yes, they have a new Vizsla. If I’d procured them a shelter dog as nice as my current four dogs, would they have chosenthe shelter for their next pets?

I went on to finish my Master’s degree and worked for the ASPCA for many years. And every time my team decided not to adopt out a dangerous dog, every time I held off a vein for a behavioral euthanasia, I thought of Rosie, and swore I wouldn’t deliberately outsource this sad task to an adopter ever again. 

(Earlier editions of this article were published in Sheltering Magazine, 2003, and in the IAABC Journal, 2017)