Now, leaving aside for a moment my own view that you can only credibly say you “rescued” an animal if you plucked him from a burning building or the middle of a river, I sometimes wonder what people imagine when they go in search of a rescue pet of their own. I know what I’ve heard from many potential adopters and it makes me question what they think “rescue” really means.
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Louie, a sweet-tempered Boxer mix, still waits for a home Photo: Susan Beveridge
Often, but not always, it means the animal was abused. More certainly it means the dog or cat was neglected, perhaps left to fend for him- or herself as a stray, or kept in a house with so many other animals that he was never cared for properly and, probably wisely, never learned to look to humans for affection and bonding.
Frequently it simply means the pet outlived his or her novelty value or puppy/kitten cuteness, and became just another lifestyle accessory his owner tired of. To too many people in Los Angeles there’s nothing more boring than a creature who isn’t impressed by your car and who only wants your time and your love.
Many of these dogs and cats, if they’re lucky, end up at a shelter. If they’re very lucky, they come to a no-kill shelter. They get as much love and attention as a spread-thin volunteer staff can equitably share with a hundred animals – or more. Dogs get walked, but sometime not before Nature’s call is too insistent to ignore. They get as much training as rank amateurs can provide, but who can blame a volunteer if they try to prioritize fun and affection over discipline in the short time they have to give each animal?

Black cats like Smoky, and black dogs, face discrimination in adoption Photo: Jackie Bass
Then one day someone walks in looking for his or her very own “rescue” pet. They ask, “How old is she? Is she housebroken? Will she get along from day one with a dog or cat she’s never seen?” In the case of dogs, they stare expectantly, waiting for a frenzy of recognition and kisses, while the forlorn dog simply tries to figure out who this stranger is. Are they safe to approach? Who are these children squealing and flailing around? Meanwhile, the potential adopter, measuring the real dog against his her imagined perfect “rescue” dog, swiftly becomes disenchanted. Where is the reward of instant affection and lifelong bonding for their nobility in considering this dog? Why doesn’t the dog look as groomed or act as perfectly as the dogs on TV? And when we try to tell them how sweet the dog is, once she gets a chance to get to know you and feel comfortable around you, we’re treated much like the department store salesman who tries to sell you a sweater you just don’t think is right. Because so often to the adopter this is just another shopping trip, the animal just another product that needs to measure up.
Cats often get even less time and consideration, especially if they’re no longer a kitten. Perhaps you’ve noticed that people involved in rescue often get their hackles up when someone blithely declares, “I’m looking for a kitten (or a puppy).” It’s because we know how short kitten- and puppyhood is. We know puppy and kitten antics, no matter how cute, are no substitute for the soul that shines from the eyes of an adult dog or cat who knows who they are, and who can choose to love you, rather than the endearing yet simply instinctive behaviors of babies. It’s also because we know every cat and dog in our shelter started out as a cute puppy or kitten. If people’s affection for baby animals outlived their baby-cuteness our shelter would be empty, but it’s not. So we know that kitten or puppy may end up right back here when that blithe desire for “cuteness” wears off.
And for the volunteers who show you the dog or cat, who know how genuinely sweet they are, and who understand how confident and happy they could be if only they had a safe home and the security of knowing they’re loved and cared-for, it’s not like you’re rejecting a sweater, but the living, hoping creature we know that dog or cat to be.
Some days a dog or cat does measure up. If they’re very young, if they’re very beautiful, or if they’re a purebred they more often make the cut. And on some very rare days, you get an adopter who can see past the shyness, and the sadness, and even the gray hairs around the muzzle – or the frantic excitement of youth and unmet needs for exercise – an adopter who sees the dog or cat’s true self. For an animal who has spent months or even years waiting for a home and a family this isn’t the greatest gift, it’s the only gift; their lives, no longer on hold.
Rescuing a homeless animal is one of the few genuinely noble acts available to run-of-the-mill humans. Taking in an animal who’s known nothing of safety, let alone kindness or cherishing, and making them slowly understand that they are now loved, watching their happiness and confidence grow, and keeping that dog or cat safe, healthy and cared-for every day of the rest of his or her life is not just an act of kindness, but it comes perilously close to being an act of redemption. You may do, say or think some rotten things in your lifetime (well, I do), but to make an overlooked or unloved living creature feel loved, to make their one shot at life finally wonderful is the most important thing I think one living being can do for another.
So before you start thinking, “I should get myself a rescue pet,” please stop for a few minutes and think what the word rescue really means. It’s not a brand name or an anecdote for friends, it’s sharing your home, your affection, your time and your support with an animal who may have known very little of these comforts. It’s not a shopping trip, and a cat or dog is not a product. It takes commitment and work to deserve all that unconditional love. But nothing worthwhile ever demands any less of us.