Rescue. Me.

Riley, our late Corgi

 I never thought I'd be rejected by an animal rescue group.

Okay, I need to really step back and reframe that.  I am not being rejected.  My application has (in all likelihood) been rejected.  That's important to remember, and it's hard to do... because when your application to rescue a dog gets rejected, it sure as heck feels like you, personally, have been rejected, too.

It all started out when the bug to add a dog to our family bit.  After some talking about traits and preferences, my husband and I decided that we either wanted another Corgi like our late, beloved Riley, or a Corgi mix.  Since in our area, Corgi pups from decent breeders go for $2K and up, we decided we should look into rescue first... it isn't that we can't afford a decent breeder (though doing so would be a stretch), it's more that the idea of dropping that much money on a puppy when good dogs are languishing in shelters every day made us rather uncomfortable.

So I hit Petfinder, and was surprised to see that 20 possible Corgi mixes were up for adoption within a 100 mile radius of us.  Some I ruled our immediately (didn't look a thing like a Corgi mix, were female, were older than our preference, weren't good with other dogs).  Some I thought about hard.  And then I saw Michael and Moe.

Michael

Michael and Moe are the wards of A New Chance Animal Rescue (ANCAR) in Bedford Hills, NY.  Both were listed as Corgi-Lab mixes (well, Moe was listed as a Corgi-Golden mix, but looks more Lab than Golden to me).  Both had write-ups that made them sound like plausible candidates for adoption - young, trainable, friendly.  My heart skipped a beat... either of these cuties would b
e welcomed in our home, if we could only ascertain that they might be good with cats.  Of the two, I was drawn more to Michael (older and with a clearer idea of his personality); my husband favored Moe (younger, more trainable, looked more like a Corgi to him).  I applied for both, telling the rescue that I'd love to hear their opinion on which would be the better match for our family.

I'm not going to complain in the least about the length of the application... when you're out to adopt a dog, you expect that it's not going to be an in-and-out job, like walking into WalMart for a bottle of shampoo.  You know that you're going to be examined minutely by people who don't know you from Adam, whose primary goal is to put dogs into homes where they will live out the rest of their lives.  Anyone who complains about lengthy or detailed applications is missing the point, to my way of thinking.  

Moe

I put my all into that application.  They wanted to know what my current dog was like.  I was brutally honest - Ariel isn't much of a doggy-dog.  She doesn't play with other dogs at the dog park, but will cheerfully allow them to follow her around as she sniffs and pees on everything that doesn't move.  If other dogs get in her face, trying too aggressively to play, she bark-growls to tell them to back off - but she has never, ever attacked another dog or bitten one.  And she did have a canine companion when we adopted her - our beloved Nevin, who didn't mind Ariel's personality quirks in the least.  

Other questions asked if Ariel was, for example, up to date on her vaccines (yes) and heartworm preventative (no, but we would remedy that), and if we had ever rehomed or lost a dog (yes, we had rehomed a dog once.  It was for the best of all parties involved, ourselves and the dog in question, who went back to his breeder and was immediately turned over to one of the families waiting in line for a puppy).

In retrospect, I have to wonder if I was too honest.

ANCAR tells prospective families that their volunteers take between 7 and 10 days to process an application.  Not a problem.  I lined up my references, called the vet to arrange for Ariel to have her yearly physical (including heartworm test and refill on meds), and let the vet know that they would likely be hearing from ANCAR.  Then I sat back and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I started getting a bit nervous when, as day 10 approached, one of my references asked me when she would be hearing from the rescue.  It turned out that none of my references had been called at all.  A call to my vet proved that they, too, had not been called.  Something seemed amiss.

Going back to the confirmation email I'd received when filing my application, I noted that the group would not be replying to me at all, if my application had been declined.  They only contact approved adopters.  That, I felt, was rather stinky.  I mean, how much time can it really take to shoot off a blanket "We're sorry, but we have decided that your application doesn't meet our criteria" e-mail, with a list of possible reasons for the decline?  Too much for this group, apparently.

I emailed the group, letting them know that Ariel was all lined up to go back on her heartworm meds and asking about the status of my application.  No reply.  I sent another e-mail, saying that we were still very interested in Moe or Michael, and emphasizing that we were a very flexible family... if something was not "up to snuff" in our application, we could change the situation, if we could only know what we needed to do.  Again, no reply.

At this point, it was hard to feel anything but snubbed.  Snubbed, and a bit irritated... after all, we are an experienced dog owning family with our own home and a fenced yard.  We know Corgis and are committed to proper training and care.  What on earth could be wrong with our application?

I texted my family, and my mother promptly texted back - "That's mean," she said, and I agreed.

My youngest sister, however, upon hearing me bemoan my state, matter-of-factly pointed out that the rescue could well be busy from an influx of applicants.  I was putting words and feelings into the hearts and mouths of strangers, assuming the worst, she wrote.  

True, I agreed.  But when they say that they don't reply to declined applicants, what's a person supposed to think?  After all, I had waited the ten days they said they take.  And I could think of a million reasons why my application might have been declined... most of which came back to me being too honest in my application, and paying for that honesty in the loss of our potential dog.

My mother, fine non-directive counselor that she is, simply texted, "Let it go."

Gee, thanks, Mom.

But that's hard to do.

Ariel, our current dog

All of the questions swirled around in my head, and are swirling still... was it that they didn't think Ariel was friendly enough?  Was it that we had let her heartworm meds lapse?  Was it that we had once rehomed a dog?  Was it that we don't crate our dogs?  

Or...maybe it WASN'T about us.  Maybe it was, possibly, about them.  Some rescues are notoriously hard to adopt from... they set the bar for acceptance higher than most normal families can leap.  According to an article I once read, even the head of the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals had his application for a dog denied at a rescue.  Was this one of those rescues?  Did they, for example, refuse to adopt to families where both parents work?  I wouldn't know; their website doesn't say.  And as of this writing, I've learned volumes of nothing about what I did wrong, or what ANCAR expects from an adoptive family.

I'm mourning the loss of our potential dog.  In my mind, while I know that no dog is perfect, the image of our family welcoming Michael or Moe into our home is a hazy, sunset-tinged one.  I'm sure that one of them could have been a great dog for us, and we could have been a great family for him.  But we'll never know for sure.

And it's the not knowing that's the hardest part.

Update: April 13, 2021

After a final pleading e-mail to ANCAR, I finally received a reply.  It was short and polite - and negative.  No, A New Chance Animal Rescue would not consider placing Moe or Michael with our family.  In the rescue's opinion, our working hours (7-8 hours on a typical day) were too much for a dog to bear.

I was sad, but relieved of the whirlwind of self-damning thoughts that had prompted the above post.  

Later, when browsing on Petfinder, I saw that Moe had been adopted and that Michael's new bio stated clearly that he was not "a cat guy."  More relief.  Even if we had been approved, I really hadn't wanted a puppy... not at this moment, anyway.  And I do need a dog who's good with cats.

I don't harbor any real, lasting ill-will towards ANCAR.  Do I find their "you work too much to adopt from us" policy a bit snobbish?  Yes.  But situated in the heart of Westchester County, surrounded by the richly rich, I suppose it's understandable that this rescue would want nothing less than the cream of the adopting crop for their dogs.

I hope Michael finds a good home soon.  He looks like a sweet dog, and he deserves it.

Even if it's not with me.