A small gray and black kitten was inside one of five portable kennels sitting in the corner of the Nacogdoches Animal Shelter workroom. I walked over to the kitten to give it a few comforting words, "It's OK sweetie. "Maybe you won't be here for very long."
I knew it wouldn't. One way or the other, it wouldn't be there long. Most of the animals that end up at the shelter don't stay long.
Christy Wooten/The Daily Sentinel |
Unwilling to watch dogs or cats being euthanized, Lauren Drinkard, back left, watches as an injured armadillo is put to sleep. Animal control officers, Misty Jenkins, from left, Roianna Muckleroy, work study student Nikki, Jennifer Harris and Cristy Sorrells assist with this unusual euthanasia.
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Christy Wooten/The Daily Sentinel |
Walking in the shoes of animal control officers, Lauren Drinkard takes a break to give one of the cats currently up for adoption a few minutes of attention.
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In another cage was a dog, the breed barely discernible due to mange and scabs covering his entire body. The dog's head was hanging low, eyes downcast.
"I'm going to have to tranq this one," Jennifer Harris, animal shelter supervisor said.
This dog had to be put down.
The woman who brought him in didn't want the dog put down, but the animal control officer, Misty Jenkins, knew it was inevitable.
The shelter has no choice but to euthanize animals. Last year, only 865 were adopted from the Nacogdoches Animal Shelter; that averages out to a little more than two per day. By contrast, 5,219 animals were put down last year — more than 14 per day.
The Nacogdoches Animal Shelter euthanizes the animals in the most humane way possible. Animals are injected with sodium pentobarbital, and about one minute later, they're gone — it's the quickest way to euthanize. To make sure the animal is dead, a "heart stick" is performed. The heart is pierced with a hypodermic needle, which creates a suction. A bobbing needle means, the heart is still beating, so the animal is given another dose.
"Doing that every day really takes a toll on your emotions," Jennifer said. She told me about a dog she was prepping to euthanize. At the last second, it licked her nose.
She said "That's it, I'm not euthanizing this dog. This is such a sweet dog."
Many people are appalled at how many animals are euthanized at the shelter, but as the shelter employees point out, it's up to the community to make a difference by having their animals spayed or neutered. But shelter workers and animal control officers are up against those in society who either don't understand that aspect of being a responsible pet owner or those who choose to ignore it.
"Some people think that if they neuter a male animal, it ruins him," Jennifer said.
There is much more to a shelter than euthanizing and adopting animals, and I knew working at the shelter would be a challenge.
To get a feel for what shelter employees go through every day, I worked along side them, doing what they do.
James Staves, an employee at the shelter, was in charge of dealing with me — and my disgust.
Walking into the puppy isolation room, the smell of dog feces hit my nostrils like a freight train. I gagged, my eyes watered. I walked out, sure to find a biohazard or toxic waste sign plastered in bold, attention-getting color. There was none.
Small dogs and puppies are kept in puppy isolation. First on the to-do list was to take all the dogs out of the kennels and move them to other cages. I was warned about three dogs that were "biters." One was a tiny buff-colored Chihuahua.
Dog after dog was removed from the kennel. Once they were all out, a spray bottle of degreaser was hooked up to a water hose, to be used to spray the cages. I endearingly named it the Powerful Puppy Poop Blaster. I was almost as wet as the cages after cleaning the kennels.
As I sprayed and scrubbed, James observed that "puppies aren't really cute anymore after you do this everyday." He's probably right.
A bleach and water solution was the final disinfecting step.
"We use bleach because it kills all the germs and prevents the spread of disease," Jennifer said. The shelter wants to ensure healthy animals stay healthy.
The potential biters were saved for last, because it's a little trickier to move them to other cages.
"It is such a big ordeal around here if you get bit by an animal and it draws blood. I just avoid getting bit at all cost," James warned.
James handed me a thick leather glove and said, "Dogs can't bite through that; cats can, but dogs can't."
I decided to try and make friends with the little Chihuahua. The dog looked at me warily, but showed some interest — a sniff from his cold little nose. Gaining his trust was my priority. I opened the gate and extended my hand. First a sniff, then a look away. He was playing hard to get. Luckily for him, I didn't mind the chase. He would be my friend, even if he didn't realize it yet.
No getting around it, he had to be moved. I reached in and picked him up. No growling, no aggression, he twisted around and snuggled up by my chin. I knew he would be my dog — and his name would be "Peanut."
Because so many animals are surrendered, they don't always get very much attention from humans.
"There's only five of us, we cannot get everything done that needs to be done and give all these animals individual attention," Jennifer said.
The list of responsibilities is endless. A typical day at the shelter consists of getting covered in dog mess, cleaning out cat litter boxes, accepting surrendered animals, adopting out animals, taking animal cruelty calls, giving shots, testing animals and ultimately, euthanizing them. And then the whole process is repeated. The shelter relies on volunteers and community service workers to get everything done. It's incredibly hard work.
Too hard for some. "The guy before me only lasted a day," James said.
Raccoons, armadillos, rabbits, snakes and a plethora of other animals are brought into the shelter. One day, an armadillo that had been grazed by a car and was still alive, but suffering, was brought in.
The shelter had to put it down. The only problem was, nobody had ever euthanized an armadillo before.
"I hope it doesn't have some adverse effect on armadillos," Jennifer said.
Although I wasn't thrilled about watching, Jennifer assured me it wouldn't be as bad as watching a kitten or puppy euthanized.
Locating a vein would be difficult because of the armadillos' shell. Jennifer positioned the animal on its right side and tried to locate a vein on its underbelly. She stuck it with the needle. The armadillo's breathing slowly came to a halt. A heart stick was performed. The needle was still.
If a wild animal is brought into the shelter, the normal procedure is to make sure it is healthy and then release it back to the wild.
Violent animals that have bitten a person are euthanized as well. The pit bulldogs that had been suspected of being used for fighting in July were all euthanized when the owner did not appeal to get them back.
As the dogs were being removed from the filthy, abandoned house where they had been penned, I figured they would all eventually be put down. It seemed to be the lesser of two evils. The dogs were being kept in unsanitary and unsafe conditions and would probably have died a harsher death than receiving an injection then going to sleep.
Alone in the puppy isolation room, I continued to dry kennels and replace the dogs in the clean ones. Almost immediately, every dog dumped over its water and food, creating another mess. It had taken at least two and a half hours to clean one room. To say I was tired would be an understatement.
While helping in the surrender room, a couple brought in a feral cat and her seven kittens, which had been caught in a barn. This was a case of a cat not getting spayed and continually reproducing. Most of the kittens were skinny and wet, and the mother was so wild she couldn't even be touched. I knew all eight of those cats would be put down. If one of the kittens was sick, then the rest probably had the same illness. The woman who brought them in seemed concerned, even asking if they would receive some food and water. It's a good example of why spaying and neutering is vital to a healthy pet population.
Cleaning the cat room would have been an easy task. The cats up for adoption at the shelter are neat and keep themselves clean. Cats may be one of the easiest pets to care for. You never have to bathe them, and once you teach them to use a litter box, you never have to clean up a mess on the floor. Some may disagree, but cats can be very loyal, often only being comfortable around one family. One of my own cats, Smokey, might as well be a dog. He follows me around the house, sleeps with me at night, and drools all over me when petted.
A white, brown and gray long-haired cat caught my attention at the shelter. Big, round blue eyes looked back at me. I tapped the gate and he nuzzled against it.
He sprang into my arms and begin to purr as soon as the door was opened. Hearing the metal clang shut as I returned him to the kennel was a reminder that he would spend the night on a cold, hard surface. Some cats slept in their litter box, perhaps an attempt to find a softer bed.
Animal shelter workers say it is up to Nacogdoches to make the situation better at the shelter and improve the lives of animals. Owning an animal is a big responsibility, and it isn't cheap. But you can't put a price on unconditional love.
Many people will tell you shelter animals make the best pets. They are loyal and appreciative because they understand where they came from.
Knowing Peanut had not seen the sun in weeks, I decided to take him outside to run around. The first thing he did was go to the bathroom. So Peanut was house trained! When I sat down, he curled up in my lap.
The next day at the shelter, the puppy isolation room, the room I had helped clean the day before was almost completely empty and eerily quiet. Nobody had to tell me where they had all gone.
Peanut was still there. I had asked Cristy Sorrells not to euthanize him. Jennifer said she would check him out and call me if anything concerned her about his health.
The call came on a Saturday morning. The news wasn't good. Peanut had heart worms.
Heart worms are expensive and dangerous to treat. I told them to hold him for me until Monday while I considered my options.
Going through the phone book, I called all the veterinarians in Nacogdoches and discovered that the Appleby Sand Animal Clinic offered a six month payment plan.
The shelter employees were happy to hear my decision. Jennifer said she told everyone, "I'm so excited she is going to save a shelter dog."
I'm excited, too.
Lauren Drinkard's e-mail address
is ldrinkard@coxnews.com.
