Ferdinand's Hiatus

Well Ferdinand has had a few amazing months.  His mom went back to work on a local contract which meant she didn't have to travel for the first time in many years.  As a result his mom and dad got pregnant!  Now, quite some time later, Ferdinand now has a little sister - Zoey Jane!  Ferdinand wasn't entirely certain of Zoey when they first met, she did smell odd and screeched like an owl at all odd times, but now he's pretty happy she is here.  As the Big Brother he now stands guard wherever we go.  Mom's home all the time now, but taking walks isn't exactly easy, so he tries to help by staying super-close to the pram while we take walks.  He used to just be frightened of some dogs, for his own sake.  Now he fears those dogs for Zoey's sake and takes a very protective stance when they bark in the distance.  In addition to all this change, his older sister, Denali, has had her much-needed knee surgery and is relatively invalid from the activities the two used to enjoy.  While the family is getting out more now than they used to, it's still different.

Denali, Ferdinand, and Zoey would all really like their own rooms and a yard to play in, so Mom and Dad are putting their hip loft on the market and looking for a more traditional home to be in.  It's not easy because of the real estate market, but we have hopes things will happen in good time and before long Ferdinand will have his own yard to mark-up, tear up with puppy/kitten like energy, and all the kids will be able to play together outside.

Ferdinand has definitely not been wasting his months in the loft, he's actually written three children's books about his adventures.  He hopes Mom will publish the books for him, for other kids to read, so they learn not to judge Ferdinand or other puppies just by what they look like, or what they've heard which may not be about Ferdinand at all.  He really hopes they see what a fun, lovable, and loyal pup he really is.  Maybe he'll put some of the books here...he's been such an AMAZING puppy, and the world will smile when they read of his antics...

...to be continued.

Some Dog Days this Summer

Keeping Mr. Goodbar at our home presented challenges we thought we were up to.  First, we bought him his own set of food and water bowls, his own bed, and a full box of treats to use as rewards for learning the ways of our home.  We borrowed a crate from my sister so Mr. Goodbar could be kept in the second bathroom; safe space for him and a safe distance from Denali our Lab, since we didn’t know the true nature of this pup well enough to allow him free roam of our home.  The crate would help him feel safe and secure in the new environment because we knew his housetraining was sorely lacking as evidenced by several bountiful accidents which usually happened right in front of us. 

Following instructions from a training book, the first two days of our routine was to make a non-event of leaving, place Mr. Goodbar in the crate, leave music on, and go on our days.  This seemed to go quite well, for two days.  When we came home we took both dogs outside and began our evening of getting Mr. Goodbar accustomed to our routines.  Naively, we thought we had it figured out already and this wasn’t going to be so hard after all. 

It was the third day that I made an error in judgment, Mr. Goodbar decided he had enough of the crate, and the idyllic world of incorporating a new dog into our lifestyles shattered while the reality of what a second dog in a downtown loft really means set in.  On the third day I thought Mr. Goodbar was doing so well being crated in the bathroom that I would reward him by placing him in the crate but in our bedroom so he wouldn’t be lonely while we were away and he and Denali could start to get accustomed to sharing space. 

This was a bad idea.  Partially it changed a routine on a dog that had just gone through a massive change of routine.  Partially it gave Mr. Goodbar motivation to get out of that crate, to sleep in the king size bed with Denali which was now within sniffing distance.  On that fateful day I came home to a chorus of barks from the other side of my front door.  While there is occasion where Denali may bark when she hears the key turn in the lock, I knew there was trouble when I could hear Mr. Goodbar immediately on the other side.  Opening the door I was much relieved both he and Denali seemed to be in good spirits, and for a fleeting second I began to question whether I’d really put him in the crate, or if my husband Mike had already come home.  That would have been too good to be true.  Rather, Mr. Goodbar had escaped the crate by breaking the locking mechanism and then somehow figuring out he needed to lift and pull out the door to the crate.  It’s amazing to me he figured this out as putting the crate together in the first place took us over 30 minutes to discover this engineered design.

Checking Mr. Goodbar up and down I looked for any injury he may have caused himself and was much relieved not to find any.  But from my crouched position I could now see light reflect in the puddle of urine that more than likely was at one point a stream cascading down the sides of Mike’s guitar case and pooling at the base.  Mostly wet with dryness on the case I sighed and realized it was perfectly natural he would have needed to relieve himself, and maybe that was his motivation to get out of the crate in the first place.  Getting up to retrieve paper towels and clean the mess I then caught the wondrous whiff unmistakable to the nose as dog shit.  In the living / dining / kitchen combination which makes up the main living space of our loft there were three piles of Mr. Goodbar, each on a different corner of the carpets.  Ok, that made sense too, although I didn’t think we’d fed him enough to have this much by-product.

Taking the paper towels in-hand, realizing I’d need the whole roll, that’s when I saw the Tupperware container  on the floor by the couch, and with brow raised, tried to recall what I’d kept in a Tupperware and accessible to Mr. Goodbar.  Picking it up, this somewhat expensive and guaranteed to last for life plastic container had petal shaped holes in the lid, separate from each other, almost like an enormous salt shaker.  But, the Tupperware was empty.  On the floor next to the container were the plastic shards, much to my relief, and one singular almond.

There had been 3 lbs of almonds stored in the container, purchased just that weekend as a healthy snack to keep around.  They were all gone now save for this one lone nut.  Now is when I decided taking both dogs outside may need to be the priority above all the cleaning if for nothing else, than to confirm if Mr. Goodbar had indeed ingested all 3 lbs.

Leashing both dogs up, Mr. Goodbar was skeptical of the routine still and lowered his head, lifted his eyes, looked at me, and in my mind was asking ‘Am I getting in trouble?’  But when I leashed up Denali too Mr. Goodbar seemed to realize this was ok, I wouldn’t be leashing up both pups if one of them was in for a talking to.  Out on the hill in front of our building my suspicions were quickly confirmed as Mr. Goodbar had movement, after movement, after movement of candy-bar-like waste.  Dogs shouldn’t eat almonds, too many of them can be poisonous, and the nuts aren’t easy to digest if dogs can digest them at all.  But Mr. Goodbar’s system had no interest in the meat of the nuts, only the skins apparently, as all the waste which came from him was just the butter-yellow nut blended into the chocolatey waste which came out in firm stools.

Mike came home about this time and found me bending to pick up the third pile of Mr. Goodbar’s waste, but still in time to see the evidence which would keep both of us away from Baby Ruth’s for a very long time.  Not knowing of the mess upstairs Mike just started laughing, somehow always able to take the most stressful moments of our lives and find the comedy in them.  His only comment was to question whether we should still call him Mr. Goodbar, Almond Joy, or Mounds because…you know the slogan.

Our Vet said as long as Mr. Goodbar’s behavior didn’t change, he didn’t lose appetite or thirst, and he kept passing the almonds, he’d probably be ok.  Upstairs in our loft we spent the next two hours cleaning and reconstructing the crate and watching Mr. Goodbar closely should he need to go out and otherwise we might miss the signs.  Lying in bed that night, with Denali curled up at our feet and Mr. Goodbar shyly crawling up the middle of the bed until his head lay on my hand, and I enjoyed finally being able to laugh myself at how much I was falling in love with this little chocolate colored American Pit Bull Terrier Mix Mutt, and why he was named after a candy bar in the first place, somehow someone must have known.  It would be four days before we no longer saw almonds in his waste, and I have to admit, I’ve never laughed so much at dog shit.

Mr. Goodbar Adopts Us Before we Adopted Him

The last dog I fostered was so weak, so little, so waif-like, my heart poured forth and I think I probably knew the emotion first-time mom’s have; I’m needed.  Happy to report Layla is now doing quite well with her new foster mom who is taking longer term care of that precious little angel.  So if one dog was easy to foster, another will be easy too, right?  Meet Ferdinand.

Some may know Ferdinand as Mr. Goodbar, that lovable American Pit Bull Terrier Mix from the third row that was incredibly kind, sweet, loving, gentle, and full of ‘I just want to be loved’ eyes that everyone fell in love with.  Returning him to the kennel broke our hearts each and every time.  Knowing I couldn’t keep volunteering or working at the shelter because real life called me back to my career I wanted to foster again.  Mr. Goodbar seemed the logical choice because a) he was a long-timer and needed to get out, b) he’s a Pit Bull Mix which makes him harder to adopt, c) my dog seemed ok with him, and d) he told me to bring him home. 

I’m not a DogTalker, but I’d say that’s pretty much how it happened, his eyes met mine he called me ‘Momma’ and that was it.  So as of that Sunday we started fostering Mr. Goodbar.  Several of my Volunteer Friends (other volunteers who have become friends, not people who think I’m a charitable cause) know and love this little dog and applauded me immediately as I made their guilt a little less that this little guy was not in a kennel one more night of his life.  Bringing him into our home was the first chapter in a thus far amazing story.

As you may expect the first day went cautiously both for Mr. Goodbar and for us and Denali, our Lab.  Mr. Goodbar wasn’t sure of the territory, wanted to explore everything, but was overly cautious and respectful to the point we had to prod him through doorways, to eat some food, to go outside where all the other dogs go.  It reminded me of a made for TV movie from my youth when a family of missionaries bring home a young Asian girl who was wholly unfamiliar with modern conveniences.  However, in that movie the young girl preferred to use the bathroom outdoors as she was intimidated by the violent flushing of a toilet.  Mr. Goodbar, well, he wasn’t so hesitant to relieve himself inside.

He is a boy-dog, so we knew some ‘marking’ is part of his nature.  We kept him on a leash inside the house so he couldn’t wander around and mark at will.  And that worked rather well until we thought he as comfortable, and we dropped the leash to allow him to simply follow us around, and we discovered Mr. Goodbar can hike and mark much faster than we can turn and say “Whatchyou talkin’ bout Willis?!”

First it was the kitchen peninsula, seemed natural I guess since it was prime territory to mark.  Then it was the partial wall which separates the office from the hallway, then Mike’s guitar case which (admittedly) is propped enticingly near that office wall.  Then it was both legs of our bed, and unfortunately the down comforter that hangs over those corners – but luckily not the mattress itself.  Then came defacation – also lightning fast – on the dining room carpet (2x), the living room carpet, the bedroom carpet, and the guest bathroom.  Obviously, Mr. Goodbar had forgotten his housetraining and we’d forgotten what it was like with a dog who doesn’t know to scratch at the door when they need a break like our Denali does quite like clockwork.

Now, Mike and I have set our internal clocks to take Mr. Goodbar out every time we ask “When was he out last?” If we can’t say it was an hour or two ago then we assume it’s been longer and we take him out them.  We’re working on a longer schedule, but for right now we’re up to about four hours in between potty breaks, not including nights when he pretty much sleeps throughout.

Sleeping is a whole new experience as well, although I’d be amiss to say it did anything less than totally and entirely endear Mr. Goodbar to us.  The first night we brought him into the room and had him on a leash.  When I said ‘Go to bed’ and pointed to the dog bed, he obediently crawled onto the center of the massive cushion and just looked up at me with sad but submissive eyes.  Denali took her usual position at the foot and middle of our king size bed, and Mike and I took our sides.  When we turned out the lights I heard the smallest sound from Mr. Goodbar’s collar, a slight jingle of the city license and as my eyes were still adjusting to the dark a soft but decided plop of fur was beside me, in the middle, and cautiously but ever so cutely laying his little head down, eyes gazing upward with a small but pronounced reflection of light.  He was looking for approval, perhaps looking out for a swat, but telling me he wanted to be with us, near us, and sleep in the bed with the rest of the pack.  Mike and I chuckled and figured it was inevitable and maybe even a good sign he wanted to be this close to us this soon.  Then as Mr. Goodbar rolled into my side to lay heart to heart, I knew at that moment fostering may not work for us after all, we just may have to adopt this little guy who appeared to adopt us already.

Work One Day in Their Shadow…

As a volunteer to the shelter I started just like everyone else; overwhelmed.  Immediately I saw opportunities to improve cleanliness, chances to simplify and streamline processes, and ways it could become a better place.  Just like others, I questioned why some things were they way they were, what the right answers were areI received various ones from various people, and why, why, why so many dogs end up here?  But I was determined to learn and understand more about the shelter because someday, I want to start my own dog daycare, but for now I just want animal welfare in KC to be drastically better than the status quo.

After volunteering for three days I started asking what else I could do, what else I could help with, and what could I do about the blisters on my feet?!  Understandably at first the staff was hesitant, imagine how many volunteers come in for a few days, weeks, even months, and then are gone forever.  The staff is so busy there’s only so much time they can invest in ‘helping volunteers understand.’  But I kept at it, I kept going, kept asking question, and kept trying to learn how things were done so I could support wherever possible, and maybe make some suggestions.

Now, after two and a half months, I have to draw back significantly on the time I spend there.  I have to go back to my ‘real job’ much earlier than I’d planned.  But in the time I have been there I am so grateful the staff allowed me to work a few days in their shadows. 

I understand how hard Courtney works on a given day to get through all the medical evaluations, give all the medications, shots, and assessments she can, along with all the vet appointments she takes during a given day.  It’s no wonder she’s so slender, she never sits down, she never rests, and she is forever full of energy for these dogs and gives 200% of that energy each day.  When she’s not there on Thursdays, we all miss her presence.

I see the frustration Sam works through dealing with the myriad public who call and take 20 minutes of a 30 minute phone call to talk about themselves, their dogs (living and deceased), and then say they might come to the shelter if we just get a purebred Pomeranian between 1 – 3 yrs that is good with dogs, cats, and already housebroken.  Then she picks up the phone again or answers  an email and starts over with another person to get a foster, an adoption, to get another dog out of the shelter.  I don’t think she’s had a day off for two weeks!

There were two days I helped Ashley intake all the dogs Animal Control brings to the shelter with barely complete reports to their origin, and then she has to shuffle dogs, find kennels for them, input their information to PetPoint, and post their kennel cards.  I don’t understand how one person does all she does, I know she needs at least two other people in her role to handle everything that comes in.  She also has to help compile the euthanasia list (she’s not the final word), it’s the only way she can make room for more dogs coming in every day.  That’s the job she faces five days a week.

Each day Mark, Zach, and Deena clean the kennels, and clean the kennels, and clean the kennels.  Sometimes they start when it’s still dark out, the dogs are always barking, and the urine and feces never ends.  I’m sure they’d like to get to know the dogs, to play with them or walk them, but there isn’t time.  With over 80 kennels, they have to clean them thoroughly every day (with the help of janitorial staff), spot clean them again at least once that day, and in some cases twice that day depending on the dog, the diarrhea, the vomit, the spilled water, the blood.  They often see the worst side of the dogs, the sickest and messiest sides, and they will come back the next day and face it all over again in addition to doing the mounds of laundry, and cleaning the rest of the shelter.  So if the women's bathroom is out of paper towels, it's not that they've neglected it, it's rather than they haven't had a minute to do it yet.

As volunteers who give hours of our lives we have to remember the lives who make a living at the shelter, that coming in every day isn’t a choice, it’s their job.  When we judge, question, or criticize, we have to remember some of them are doing the best they can with the time they have, with the insufficient supplies or inadequate work processes in place.  We also have to wonder what it would feel like if someone came into our workspace, into our cubicles or shops, and judged, questioned, or criticized what we did.  How would we feel?

I encourage every volunteer to take one day off in the next three months, and on that one day off volunteer to shadow one person at the shelter through their entire day.  Get to know them and ask questions to understand the ‘why’ and when there isn’t a ‘why’ but ‘just the way things are’ so you know what they face every day.  When we’re all on the same page, then we can begin to fight the same fight to get all these dogs out of the shelter and into loving homes; it’s what they want too!

(Note: This isn't to say improvements can't be made, they can, but we need to work together and fina common ground.)

Have You Looked Into their Eyes?

I should explain that I don’t follow any specific religions perspective on life, death, or an afterlife.  I once identified myself as Catholic because that’s how I was raised, but after the KC Archdiocese could not confirm my tithing was not used to support the Priests Defense Fund for those accused of pedophilia through the courts, I figured it was about time I started studying, investigating, and just wondering about stuff for myself.

One thing I remember from parochial school was being taught animals do not have souls.  Of course, the definition I was provided for what my soul consisted of was dubious at best, nebulous even, I’m not sure the word soul means as much to me now as the idea of a spirit.  When you learn about a person who has lost a leg in an auto accident but still does triathlons, you’d say that person has a strong spirit.  The same would go for many of the dogs at the shelter, despite what they’ve probably been through you can easily see they still have a spirit, it’s not been broken, and they’ll find a way to recover and redress the wrongs done against them by simply living a happy life forever more.  But until they get fostered or adopted, or mercifully released from pain and anguish they cannot recover, they live at the shelter for some time.

It’s while they are at the shelter my eyes will meet theirs.  Sometimes it’s a passing glance that’s like the Jesus paintings of childhood; their eyes follow wherever you go.  Other times it’s the emphatic eye-lock where you know they are saying “Help” or “Need Out” or “Need Walk” or “Why aren’t you stopping this?!”  Those are the ones you may have to walk past, but walk back to as soon as you can.  You won’t get to all of them.  But for the ones that somehow telepath and control you to the extent you do pick them for a walk, do get them out of dog jail, those are the ones talking to you every chance they get, using every part of their body to convey a message, but it’s their eyes that try to communicate from their spirit to yours.

There’s the supernova burst of energy once out of the kennel, the ones where legs and paws slip away but come back to help rush them toward a door.  Those whose tail wags so hard and fast with sheer joy, literal joy, their whole body shakes and moves and they hardly contain the power of their spirit in a small furry body.

There’s the lean in and kiss, jump up and lick ones that just have to touch you, to be touched, and feel for one moment they are real, they do exist, we haven’t walked by them because they are invisible, we see them.  Their excitement comes through in every grateful motion trying to be close to you, to become a companion once again, as centuries of breeding has taught their heart is the chosen path for their kind.

And there is the remorseful, the ones who somehow take on blame for their fate, and implore you now to read the regret in their actions, their mannerisms, their heartfelt contrition for whatever sins they did which landed them here.  They were a family pet, maybe there was that one chair they kept marking, or the barking to alert their family of animals in the yards they never understood, or the new baby that somehow usurped their place in the pack.  The ones who became too old, too expensive, too needy, or too energetic for their families anymore.  The ones that did nothing wrong except to be chosen by parents who maybe could never afford them, couldn’t keep them inside the house and put them in a yard, or lost their job and don’t know how they will buy food for themselves and their children let alone buy enough for their dogs.  The dogs take all this into their hearts, their spirits bend and sometimes break under the massive weight of guilt that somehow they weren’t enough, did something wrong, and aren’t with their families any more. 

Some of these are surrendered, others are just lost but no one comes looking for them, but their eyes tell the tale of a spirit displaced on the winds, blowing from one tree break to another like drifting around city streets, trying to find their forever home.  Those are the eyes I never forget.

We’ve probably all seen a dog smile, something they are so apt to easily do.  But I’ve seen a dog cry real tears, lying on the floor of a kennel with no interest in food, water, treats, or a walk because their spirit is broken at that moment.  Just like me when boyfriend number XX disappointed and destroyed me for days or weeks, these dogs have broken hearts.  They breathe shallow only allowing heavy sighs with barely audible cries whispered from their throats.  They mourn, but do not plead for me or any comfort I might give; they’ve stopped believing in us for a short time. 

Where is their family?  Who is their pack?  How do they exist now without those they once guarded, loved, and gave their hearts to?  Their eyes tell me, their tears convey sadness so cold and dark I feel it with my spirit, and for the moment I’m standing with them someplace dark and cold and utterly alone, like a large room with all the lights suddenly out and my eyes unable to make out any direction to go, any way out, so I just stand there and hope someone comes for me or light comes in some way.  If you look into their eyes, they will tell you their woes.

Winston started at the shelter this way.  Surrendered by his family because they couldn’t afford him any longer, he was confined to a kennel after living in a house, eating once a day after obviously enjoying a life of treats given his weight, and barely touched by our hands after he likely had someone’s hands he would know the scent of even now.  His brown-butter fur is soft and beautiful, he’s clean and had not been left in a yard on a chain like others.  His block head is perfectly proportioned to hold the cinnamon sugar eyes which stare out through kennel doors at each form and figure passing by knowing instantly, it’s not the one he’s looking for.

Winston’s mourning followed the same stages ours would; disbelief or denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance.  The first day Winston was at the shelter he was utterly confused by the surroundings, turning in his kennel, getting up, laying down, trying to push the kennel door open, he couldn’t understand why he was there let alone this small space he was confined to.  Then anger, as I walked past he immediately barked, when lowering my hand and my eyes so he could smell me I only heard angry growls and barks from him as I wasn’t his human, I was just one of ‘them.’  Then the next day when I visited his kennel he began to growl and bark, but then sniff and investigate, he was bargaining with me if I allowed him to sound off for a moment, he would then allow me to try to offer a biscuit, or my scent as an olive branch for the place he now lives.  But I cried with him on the next day when Winston lye on the floor of the kennel, half in and half out of the bed which isn’t really big enough for his body and stared straight ahead.  Getting on my knees so we were eye to eye, I feared he was sick or injured, but when I looked into his eyes and saw the tear stains, the unblinking and unreacting face and I knew he was depressed.  Only when my eyes filled with tears and I whispered “I’m so sorry” in a voice breaking into a painful high pitch as I choked down that lump that always rises with misery did Winston look at me.   But I knew, saying I was sorry, offering my condolences couldn’t lessen the pain his heart felt or his mind endured as he was left to ask himself “Why?”  There is no answer which Winston could possibly understand. 

I wouldn’t be at the shelter for three days, so I emailed Sam to let her know about Winston and that he needs a little help, a little love, and a little time out of his cell.  Coming back the following Monday and I went to find Winston to see if in any way his pain had lessened and his spirit was rebounding.  Not in his kennel, but the card still on the cage, I knew he had to be somewhere here still, so I went back to help in the Treatment Room and knew the next thing I had to do is figure out where.  Washing dishes in the bathtub / sink we use for bathes, I hurried through bowls and dishes and pans to remove the puppy poo, the old dog food, and clean them so they were done and all I had to do was look for Winston.  As it happens the window to the Treatment Room overlooks the back parking lot and I heard a volunteer talking to a dog.  Looking out the window it was unmistakably Winston so I dried hands and rushed down the hallway to the back door so I could see how the walk was going, make sure he was not growling or snipping, nor miserably hauling his body places when his spirit had left him.

The thrill when I heard that volunteer tell me the walk was going great and Winston was full of energy is moving even now.  This dog was abandoned by his family, left here to figure out something on his own he could never sugar-coat or explain in a politically correct way, and deserted to deal with his anguish and anger and the “Why.”  But today he was perky.  Winston was playful, energetic, and looked into all the eyes he saw with forgiveness, forgetting what he’s been through and determined to reclaim his spirit and restore it to the glory of Dog.  He’s a survivor as sure as any pup which comes in with an imbedded harness, a gunshot wound, bite marks and scars, except Winston took his beating on the inside.  Despite that, in spite of that, Winston is a great dog.  He’s funny, strong, big, playful, loving, and wonderful.  He still loves us, I can see that in his eyes, and he’s looking for one of us to love him.  It’s so simple, it’s utterly beautiful.

It’s hard to look into their eyes, but it’s even harder not to.  I’m in love with Winston, and lucky for me, he’s in love with ‘us’ all over again.  Dogs have spirit, and Winston is living proof.

PS. As I write this blog my loving husband has already gone to bed and snores quite comfortably in our king size bed.  My dog, my Denali, lays on the thin area rug near my feet, waiting for me to finish so she can go with me to that comfy bed.  I know my husband loves me, but the love of a dog is immeasurable.  :0)

It’s called Brand Management

As a business consultant with over 10 years experience working at some of the world’s largest corporations I’ve dealt with a number of issues affecting a businesses’ profitability.  One of the things I’m seldom flown across the country to address is Brand Management.  For the most part, companies that can afford to hire my company, and me by proxy, have figured out Brand Management and that’s what’s made them so profitable.

Not only do I research any brand I’m about to deal with (Pepsi, Sprint, Dow, Cargill, or the USDA), it’s expected that when I join a project team leadership from both sides will combine efforts to ensure I am educated on their brand so I can immediately fold into the troops fighting for their market share.  Anyone coming to work at Halfway Home Pet Adoptions (HHPA) or volunteer for them need the same indoctrination, "Here's our brand, this is who we are, now join us."  This entails telling but also listening for the first things they see or question so you can tell immediately the difference between the brand you claim to be and the brand your coming across as.

Part of Brand Management is Brand Experience, this is what it means for you as a consumer to interact with their product, hopefully take it into your home, and then when you need that product again have had such a positive overall experience you no longer compare prices, sizes, or ingredients, you don't look for or use coupons, you just reach for their bottle and move on.

One thing to quickly clarify, is that you don’t need an MBA in telecommunications to understand basic business precepts of a telecommunications company – business schools don’t specialize in that way because business precepts are a constant.  Your MBA will be good at Motorola, ING, Nissan, or Nabisco.  But I don't need an MBA and I don’t need to have worked in kennels to evaluate them, no one does.  Without any knowledge of an animal shelter, anyone can walk into a facility and look for the same basic business practices you’d see anywhere and judge your brand experience accordingly.  What this means is that the consumers for an animal shelter - effectively every person that walks through the door even if they’d never been in one previously - will try to understand what they see and experience with the same thought process they’d judge any retail store or service provider, they may deal with in their lifetime.  We might wish they knew more of the challenges to operating a facility like HHPA, but tough noogies, they won’t.  They aren’t there to understand the kennel, they are only there to pick out a dog.

I’ve been thinking of the brand experience of our shelter considerably.  Part of my research into the animal welfare industry in Kansas City has been to visit as many places and talk to as many people as possible.  With my consultant hat on, my goal of working at this shelter is to stand behind the brand (as I would for any company I’d be on a project for) and extol the virtues to others.  But when I talk about the brand of HHPA to our consumers, I realize they can just as easily go to or might have experience already in their Veterinarian’s office, Petco, Petland, Animal Haven, and Wayside Waifs. 

Some of those are indirect competitors (Vets and Petco) but they still convey an idea to consumers of how animals should be treated and what a facility with animals in it should look like, some are direct competitors (Petland, Animal Haven and Wayside Waifs) because they are doing much the same mission as HHPA, trying to get animals into families.  While all of us use the term ‘adopt’ it’s really selling a product; dogs.

There is the argument that we can’t compare all these because they aren’t all a municipal animal shelter, but that’s irrelevant because in the mind of the consumer they don’t see that.  In fact, if they do have an awareness that this is a medium to high-kill municipal shelter, that should actually work to our advantage helping to push our products off the shelves and into their arms.  But the fact is, someone bringing their kids in to pick out a new family dog is looking for a brand experience whether they are aware they’d be saving a dog from possible euthanasia or not, and if they know we might kill a dog that isn’t adopted, it actually holds us to a higher standard because the consumer will expect us to work harder than our competitors to get these dogs homes.

In 2009 the shelter management was privatized, this means we lost our identification as a city facility and aren’t a non-profit, to the consumer this means we can’t use that as a crutch and we have to compare with the same treatment they’d see for animals at their Vet office, because they are for profit, and for Petland and Petco, because the images they put forth impress the consumer with the idea all dogs should have blankets, soft beds, colorful toys, and a full bowl of food and water at their side.  And by the way, we need that image too, that image is helping push these people into changing their lives forever and taking a dog into their homes.

As a brand experience we have to raise the bar and be at least comparable to our direct competition, which in the eyes of our consumers, is Animal Haven and Wayside Waifs.  And here’s the rub, while price points do vary, we’re not the low cost leader*.  To the consumer, we may ask $100 for a dog and they may ask $110 for the exact same type of dog, so the brand experience for these consumers can mean the difference between walking through our shelter, looking at and considering adopting our dogs, and going back outside driving across town and doing the same thing at their facilities.  *Btw, we do not want to be the low cost leader because we can’t use that concept to our advantage like Wal-Mart, we can’t sell a dog for $15 because that same consumer will walk over and then buy a $200 dog.

With the busy Holiday Shopping Season already upon us, comparing our brand experience to Wayside Waifs, and there are easy things we can address that don’t cost money but do take a consistent process, leadership, and a unified effort to accomplish.  As one of my business professors once said, “Look at the big brands, see what they do, and copy it!”  It’s that simple. 

1)    Cleanliness – proven research indicates consumers stay in a store longer if it’s clean and orderly.  They increase their ‘shopping stare’ if they are looking at the products (dogs) and not the dust or dirt (dog feces / urine).  So our ‘store’ has to be clean, and free from cobwebs, bugs, dirt on the windows, animal waste in the kennels, and grime on the doors.  We’d get a significant advantage if we paint the walls a brighter color rather than the outdated aqua two-tone ‘facility paint job’ that’s been left there by the city*.  The point is we want to keep consumers in our shelter longer so they’ll evaluate the dogs more, take time to look into the top and bottom kennels, and have a chance to talk to an adoption counselor so we have time to tell them all about Lilly, Wilma, or Ellis.  The dogs are doing their parts, coming up to meet them, wagging tails, begging for their attention, we have to make certain we get a chance to give our sales pitch to help close the deal.

*I’ll wager a bet volunteers would be thrilled to help with a ‘Clean the Shelter’ day every six months to supplement the staff already responsible for cleaning duties.  Afterall, volunteers will stay longer in a clean facility too.  They might even know a way to get paint donated or help do some minor painting on doors with paint chipped, or wash windows so dusty you can'y see through them.

2)   Smiles – as simple as that sounds, it’s also shown retail sales increase when associates smile around consumers.  I don’t see many smiles at HHPA, likely because everyone is so crazy busy with running around trying to find paper towels that we don’t take much time to look at the people in the shelter let alone smile at them.  Walking from one end of the shelter to another throughout a given day and I can usually count the number of smiles I’ll see on one hand.  If we don’t look happy to be there, consumers certainly won’t look happy to be there.  And if we aren’t smiling, they’re reading our face as ‘something is wrong or sad’ and they associate that to the place we’re in.

3)   Marketing – when you walk down a grocery store aisle every product is telling a story.  Let’s take the cereal aisle.  Compare four different children’s cereals and you’ll see common themes on color choice used for the boxes, images (because kids cereals don’t need as many words as fiber ones do), and size of the product.  Children’s cereal usually comes in larger sizes because it’s fun for kids to grab, easy for them to be drawn to, and parents see the value in the size, whereas bran cereals come in smaller boxes because no one gets excited about a pound of fiber in their shopping cart.  So if cereal has to sell itself from the shelf, then dogs do too.  We have to give consumers more information about these dogs to intrigue them, and start that journey to brand loyalty, i.e. adopting from a shelter. 

Our kennel cards are half a sheet of paper, black ink on white.  They convey basic information, but most the consumers I’ve approached can’t read them and don’t understand them.  Our competition, they use pink paper for girls, blue paper for boys, and orange when two dogs came in together and they have to go out together.  We can do that, or at least high-light the dog names in pink or blue.  They also print the bios of the dogs and hang them on the kennels as part of the ‘selling process’ so the same experience consumers may have online looking for a dog is mirrored by their visit to our kennel where they actually meet the dogs.  You’re managing your brand from online to in-store, and that’s what consumers expect.

There is some cost to this change because right now our kennels only have holders for this half-sheet of paper.  But, it would be a one time capital investment to get holders for a full sheet of paper, and since we use half the sheet for the statistical information, it would be a matter of re-feeding the same paper through a printer to copy and paste the bios we already have out on the Internet.  Maybe we don’t want to do this extra effort, but then since our competitors are doing it, maybe we have to find a way to do it.

And since I mentioned the Internet, we have to address that as well.  Imagine a consumer perusing our own website, finding exactly what they’re searching for, contacting the shelter only to be told – adopted, rescued, euthanized – UNAVAILABLE!  Well, how much would you trust that website again?  So on the phone we often say, you need to come out and look.  That would be great if our brand experience at the shelter was on target, but it’s not.  So we’re giving them less convenience, bringing them to a facility that’s not always clean or smells good, is definitely loud and emotionally trying to be around.  Basically, when we don’t keep our Internet listings current we’re taking two steps back.  And we all know this; NO ONE is doing less with their websites, everyone is doing more.  It’s not a matter of increasing the workload, but being more efficient with it.  Bios start the day the dog comes into the facility, volunteers should build them up each time they walk a dog and data entry is adding one sentence to a paragraph to help sell that dog.  It’s not hard work, but it takes organization and efficiency and has to be a basic business process.

4)   Product Placement – For our own brand management we have to decide if we want to be a Specialty Store (Best Buy / Pet Stores), or a Used Goods Store (well, because we kinda are).  If we act like a used goods store consumers expect discounted prices, and clearance.  This means we’re targeting consumers that make a buying decision based primarily on cost – a low cost.  This is NOT the types of consumers we want to send a product home to that has an average annual cost of $500 just for their food, not to mention their annual Vet bills ($100 to $500) and ancillary supplies ($30 to $1000).  But if we act like a Specialty Store we have an opportunity to appeal to consumers who see the product value as outweighing the sticker price, and subsequent costs of maintenance.

At a used goods store, I don’t care if a shirt is missing a button, I don’t mind if a sweater has pills on it, I’m getting it for the low cost and can put a button back on or use that sweater shaver thing we all got Christmas 97’.  But if we are a Specialty Store carrying specific breeds, shapes, sizes, if we capitalize on the very variety that comes naturally to our doors, we instantly expand the product choices from ‘Dog’ to Rhodesian Ridgeback Mix, or Chow Chow Mix.  Then, give the selling points for a Rhodesian Ridgeback (bravery and used to help athletes train) or the Chow (blue-black/purple tongue and extremely loyal to its family and will bond tightly to its master) and help consumers understand what they might be getting, even if we have to caveat it with ‘We don’t know the mix exactly, so these are just possible qualities of this dog.’   

This will be an initial effort, but even if we only use Wikipedia to gather fast facts about dogs, we create a file and re-use that information over and over again.  How many times do you think KitchenAid® re-writes descriptions for their blenders?  Not often.  And you can bet anywhere you see a KitchenAid® they make sure their description is there to help sell.

There’s two steps to product placement as it applies to the shelter; Brand Recognition for the dog we have, and Brand Ideal for the potential this dog has to be.  To recognize what we’ve already got, it all starts with the data the dog is entered into the system.  We have to go deeper into identifying the breed, the gender and if we’ve noticed whether it’s been altered previously (a good sign this dog was once cared for) to explain their breed type and personality, their coat and expectations for grooming, their age and energy level, and give the dog a story.  We have to create the brand awareness for potential consumers tying an energetic active dog to marathon runners or busy professionals who need a dog to get them into Penn Valley at the end of their hectic day. 

Connecting a short coat with minimal grooming but an ‘oh-so-amazing to be petted feeling’ like what Corinthian leather did for Chrysler.  This is where Brand Recognition ties back to cleanliness, we have to bathe every dog which comes into HHPA at least once before they are put on the shelves, we have to remove the fleas, trim the nails, cut out the matts, and give them a better smell.  Even used clothing stores won’t put soiled shirts on their racks, so we can’t put dogs covered in dust or burrs out for the public to see. 

No we can’t professionally groom all the Poodle mixes we get, but we can tell the story of how good this little Pierre will look once that professional grooming is done by the new parents, we’re creating the Brand Ideal for the potential this dog has to be.  This won’t cost us money, but this will take a process in place to see that it’s done for every dog.  Maybe it’s using Community Service, maybe it’s organizing a SWAT team of volunteers, maybe it’s hiring someone for $9 an hour and making it their responsibility.  Minimal cost, extreme payoff.

5)   Close the Deal – The last thing I see as an opportunity for improvement is closing the deal with the consumer, getting them to the register and getting the dogs out of the shelter.  To make this process go smoother we need to change our front office area and adoption office area and smarten up the paperwork we shuffle around.  We have to use words like ‘pet parents’, and ‘if you adopt’, and ‘if you’re approved’, and treat this exchange more like what it is; changing the lives of the people and the dogs forever.  As hard as it may seem, it also means we have to avoid buyers regret or indecision by forcing potential adopters to wait longer for the dogs, we have to insist everyone in the family meet the dogs before they are approved, we have to send new parents on their way with clear marketing pieces to tell them what to do next, what to expect, and what to do if there is an issue.  We have to equip them with the right resources to enable a successful and permanent transition and most importantly, to increase repeat business.  It’s commonly known it takes more effort to earn a consumer than keep one, so if we don’t keep them, we’re only making our own jobs harder.  But if we make our process more professional, we’ll attract better consumers, and better consumers will be better to work with in the long run.

I’m new to animal welfare in Kansas City, but not new to consulting.  I’ve been doing the same types of projects for over 10 years for completely different industries because the business processes do not change despite the fact products vary significantly.  Consumers all want the same thing, they want a brand experience they will enjoy, will help them buy (or they wouldn’t have come to the shelter in the first place), and will help them feel good about their purchase.  For those with more experience in animal welfare, the next thing they should do after reading this is go to see the competition!  See what you like and what you don’t, look for what they do as part of the brand management and adopt it for ours, and talk to others you volunteer with, work with, and get on the same page.  We each have to be leaders in changing the brand of HHPA so we can all see more dogs get adopted, it’s that simple.

What are you willing to do for your pet? Anything??!!

There’s a lot of controversy over an emotional topic like animal welfare, especially when we’re talking about animals that are normally pets.  At first everyone has the inclination to roll up their sleeves and help, touch the animals, and somehow get some of that amazing magic they possess to make each of us feel better for being near them. 

A dog who is a total stranger one minute, makes us smile and soft-hearted the next as we hold their shivering body next to us.  We believe we are comforting them, when in truth they are just as frightened of us as they are of the large dog in the kennel across the way, or the one beneath them they always hear and feel going in circles, but rarely see.

So you take this dog out of the kennel, take him for a walk, give him moments of love and compassion, but inevitably you’ll have to return this dog to the same kennel they were extracted from.  It’s just like people in prison getting a chance to walk in the yard, they aren’t really free, but we give them this time believing it helps.

Then there are the dogs you can’t take out, the ones so scared they go to the back of their small cell and look at you with total mistrust, even growling or barking with a clear warning “I don’t trust your kind.”  Those, you have to leave in the kennel, those are the ones that may never leave the shelter, and will die there.

Of course there are the special cases, the ones you email your friends about, the ones you check on as soon as you get there to volunteer, the ‘projects’ you take on to get them out of that place.  The ones that fill your heart and drain it at the same time.  They make you wonder about reincarnation.

And then there are the ones you never noticed at all.  The dark pit bulls in the lower kennels where it’s so dark you can’t see them fully.  The old ones crossbred in such a way they have no distinct breed whatsoever, nothing about them jumps out at you, and one day when they are gone and another dog is in their kennel, you can’t recall who was there prior.

So you vow to come back, you try to spend more time the next visit, get to more dogs, but it will never be enough.  Because we’re dealing with the symptoms and not the disease, animal shelters will never go away and dogs will always be there, and they will continue to die there.

The disease is simply greed.  We want affection, we get a dog.  We want attention, we get a dog.  We want companionship, we get a dog.  We want status, we get a dog.  How often does anyone say they want a dog because they want to give up hours of their lives, part of their paycheck, adjust their lifestyle, and commit to an animal for the rest of their natural life?! 

Well, some of us say this, but so many more do not.  The man who came in with his wife and child and wanted all four puppies from a litter, until I said they ALL must be spayed and neutered.  He wasn’t as interested when the dogs couldn’t carry the status of being unaltered.  The young couple who came late and stayed past closing, sticking their fingers in all the cages taking germs from one dog to another, and then said they really hadn’t looked into which breed would work with their home life, just they wanted a good looking dog that didn’t need too much attention and wouldn’t take too much time.  I’m sure their hearts were in the right place, but where were their heads?

Then there was the mother and son who brought in their own small dog to surrender.  The dog was eliminating inside the house.  “Have you taken the dog to any training classes?”  “Have you read any books or articles on how to housetrain your dog?”  “Have you asked any of your friends if they’d be willing to take your dog?”  “Do you know that this shelter is a high-kill shelter and it’s possible (read: likely) your dog will be euthanized?”  But $10 later and they surrendered their dog without having taken any of those steps, just producing one excuse after another for why they hadn’t really taken care of their dog at all.  I guess they expected the dog to know everything that they themselves had been taught at one point in their lives.

Will this household receive a large red X painted on their roof to say “Don’t allow another dog here, they don’t know what they are doing!”  Of course not.  They will probably get another dog, and another, and continue disposing of them like a shirt bought on sale that wrinkled after washing.

WE are the problem for dogs and cats, not the other way around.  WE as a culture have an epidemic pet overpopulation problem that few people are aware of, or blind to, and a few are trying to fight, but we won’t win this battle until WE realize we are the cause.

Of the six people I saw today at the shelter that aren’t good owners, aren’t prepared to be owners, and are causing dogs to be euthanized instead of take responsibility for their own actions, there was one man who adopted a dog who said what anyone should expect to hear “It’s like taking home a baby!”

So one in seven people may make good dog owners.  That number seems about right given the number of dogs and cats that come into the shelter.  One in seven people are good for dogs and cats on this planet, and the other six aren’t.  Maybe the most significant thing any of us can do is to dissuade friends, coworkers, and family members from getting dogs or cats until they’ve proven their worth.  Maybe anyone who is deemed a responsible pet owner should volunteer to do in-home inspections prior to any adoptions being approved.   Maybe this would cause huge numbers of dogs and cats to be euthanized because we wouldn’t adopt to those six people.  But maybe that’s what it takes to stem the tide of disease.

As I write this at nearly midnight, my own beautiful Lab has woke from bed and come to see why I’m not there.  When I say “It’s ok, you can go to bed.”  She looks at me, stretches, turns her head to look back at the bedroom, and then turns to face me.  She sits on her haunches and stares at me to say “Not without you.”  See, that’s what my dog will do for me, anything.  And that’s what I’ll do for her, anything.  And that’s what anyone who brings a dog or cat into their world should be willing to commit – to anything.  If you don’t hear someone utter these words, they aren’t ready and they aren’t fit.  They don’t deserve a dog or cat, and no dog or cat deserves to be with them.

We should talk about pet ownership with the same passion we discuss Racism, Sexism, Classism...maybe it should be called Petism.  It's discrimination against pets.