King Tut and the Case of the Broken Heart

I can usually be found on Saturdays at the Nebraska Humane Society helping out with adoption counseling.  This is a wonderful shelter with so much space inside and outside for the animals, hundreds of volunteers, great staff and unparalleled support from the Omaha community.

I'm in my 3rd year of adoption counseling.  There are good days and bad days... A good day is when you aren't obsessing about an adoption.  A bad day is when you question a match.  Maybe the new owners didn't listen, maybe there was just 'something' that didn't feel quite right and you worry about the animal.  I hate bad days.

Saturday was a good day.  I was there almost 4 hours and worked with 3 different families.  No one took a dog home with them.  I didn't create any space for the dogs in the back waiting for a kennel in adoption, but I felt really good that I did my job as a counselor.  I think I did the right thing by the dogs and by the humans.

King Tut stole my heart on Saturday.  He was a 7 year old Golden Retriever.  This dog was gorgeous, sweet, lovable, typical golden retriever.  What the hell was he doing at the shelter?  Oh, yes, that's right.  His family moved into a brand new house.  They couldn't have fur all over or scratch marks on their new floors.  No worries, they will be sure to buy another dog at another time.  7 years this dog was a loyal, loving companion and he ends up in a shelter?  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  What lessons about disposable society and limited loyalty do you suppose their children are learning?  What are you teaching your family about your commitments?

Can you imagine what this dog felt.  He was probably thrilled to be going for a car ride with his 'dad'.  Possibly in the back seat of the family suburban going from window to window so excited about the adventure they were on.  They pull up to a big building and walk in.  Oh, goodie!  are we at day care?  are we going shopping for a new toy?  They walk up to a counter, the mood is somber and all of a sudden a stranger takes the leash and leads him away to a holding kennel.  His dad looks away ashamed and sad.  Another stranger comes to take him to a room where his picture is taken without any time for posing.  He's poked and prodded and put in another kennel with dozens of other barking dogs.  Where's my dad?  When are we going to go outside and play ball?  Hey!  It's getting late, I usually sleep on my bed in your bedroom dad... this floor is cold and it's noisy... how can I sleep here?

A wonderful family considered adopting him on Saturday.  King Tut's owner checked a box on a surrender form indicating that he 'attacked cats'.  We're not sure what that meant, we're not sure that was true.  The family that I met with was stunned that this loving dog was at the shelter - up for adoption after 7 years of love and loyalty.  They wanted to take him home and make sure he had a good life for the rest of his years.  They wanted to make sure that he didn't end up back in a shelter again.  ... But they had 3 cats to which they were responsible.  Three cats that they signed up to give loving, wonderful homes to for the rest of their lives.  We couldn't be sure about King Tut so we left it up to the fates that an equally loving, responsible family would adopt him.

At the end of the day, it was the right thing to do.  I have to admit, I wanted them to take him home... to work it out with their cats.  I knew they would be a good family for him.  They were rescue people.  They understood.  But on the other hand, I respected their responsibility to their furry family and counseled in that direction.  It was a good day.

Sunday, King Tut found a home.  Sunday was a good day too.