Why Buy a Dog, Rather Than Rescue from the Shelter?

K8 the Gr8:  Thirteen years of devotion … forever in my heart.
Copyright © 2014 MJ Miller

These days, telling someone that you bought a puppy from a breeder rather than adopting a dog from a shelter receives a response akin to saying you tortured kittens, were a member of the "1 percent" or had used the "N" word.  There's a social stigma, a gut reaction, an immediate condemnation.  Despising someone for choosing a purebred puppy  is reverse snobbery but founded on a distinct self-righteousness.  I call it "shelter bombing."  It's similar to "mommy bombing," that phenomena where whatever you say is one-upped by a recent mother sharing an anecdote about her precious baby Kieran or Chamomile.  "Shelter bombing," though, is when you share your excitement about your gorgeous new puppy and someone says with a tone of sanctimonious disdain, "Oh, I would not even think about buying a puppy when there are so many innocent dogs on death row at shelters."

It happened to me, recently.  I wrote an article on McNab puppies in which I carefully discussed the importance of matching one's puppy to one's lifestyle, tips for raising one's McNab, and other information specific to the breed in an effort to ensure people considering McNabs don't end up having to give them up because they weren't a good fit.  A reader signed on solely to make that oh-so-judgmental jab:  "I can't imagine BUYING a dog when so many dogs are on death row at the shelters."  There it was!  I was so excited to share the news about my beautiful new McNab puppy, Molly, and BAM!  I was rescue bombed.

Wow.  I immediately went into defensive mode, thinking, "Oh, and I bet you adopted your children rather than giving a home to an orphan, and you most certainly return your shopping cart to the store front, too."  That sort of comment always rankles me:  first off, we live in an overly-judgmental world already, and second, there are some very specific reasons why a shelter dog isn't a good fit for everyone.  Saying someone doesn't love dogs because they didn't adopt a shelter dog is about as appropriate as saying someone doesn't love kids because they had children of their own when orphans are starving in Ethiopia or crack-babies are waiting for homes in East L.A.

Of course, you're not convinced.  Right now, you're thinking, "How awful to buy a puppy!   You're going to hell, for sure, and you're going to burn for eternity sitting right next to that person who threw their Starbucks cup away rather than recycling it.  Sinner!  Heathen!  Spawn of Satan!"

But -- if you can -- set emotion aside and let's think about this rationally.  There are definite, distinct reasons why adopting isn't for everyone.  And that, dear reader, is the key:  what's right for you isn't right for everyone.  Shocking, I know.  Heresy, if you're from urban California.  Nonetheless, it's true.  Go ahead, read the rest of this article and think about it anyway.  I dare you.  (Now, some of you will stop right here, deeply offended, and will skip to the "comment" section so you can call me names.  You're missing out on some important stuff, but hey, it's a free country -- at least for those of us who aren't from urban California.)

Adding a dog to your home is serious business.  I consider my dogs (and kitties, too) to be my family -- my kids.  (Yep, there I go offending the mommy-bombers out there.  Hold it for a different forum.  This is about dogs, not little Shiloh Blue Apple Ivy.)  I don't take it lightly.  None of my dogs have ever -- ever, not in over 40 years of dog ownership -- ended up in a shelter.  They're my babies.  I would, quite literally, do anything for their benefit.  I've lost count of how many friends have laughed and said, "If there's such a thing as reincarnation, I want to come back as one of your dogs."  I love my dogs.

I love dogs in general.  I love big dogs, little dogs, dogs who've gone to finishing school, rambunctious redneck dogs, dogs with attitude and dogs with pure adoration.  I love purebred dogs and I love mutts.  I love dogs with papers and dogs who are paper trained and dogs who still piddle on the carpet.  I don't love carpets.  I love dogs.

As part of the responsibility I feel one should demonstrate when adding a dog to the family, I believe it's important -- critical, even -- to select the proper type of dog for one's own family, lifestyle, and circumstance.  It's a pet peeve of mine, really, when people let their ego override their common sense and they choose a dog that is not bred or suited for their lifestyle or needs.  It ends in heartbreak, often; tragedy, sometimes; and inconvenience, at minimum.  Dogs that are put in an unsuitable environment are unhappy; unhappy dogs sometimes act out; dogs that act out are often put in a shelter.  Aha!  There's the connection:  shelter dogs are the product NOT of just overbreeding.  They're the product of being unsuitable for the owners -- and for owners who don't take the sense of lifelong obligation to their pet to heart.  They're dogs whose owners failed them.  They're dogs whose owners gave them up.

Although I've adopted rescue dogs before, and loved them with every ounce of my being, I have to admit they weren't all the "perfect" dog for me.  Bonnie was my dearest companion for 16 years.  She had a good, long, healthy life.  She was an amazing dog and she was my constant confidante from the time I was 12 until I turned 28.  Bonnie jumped the fence, killed the chickens, buried my grandmother's socks, peed on the carpet, climbed the pine tree and attacked a skunk, and ran off constantly despite our six-foot wall -- and no, she wouldn't come when called.  She'd outrun me.  Bonnie was a foxhound.  She was doing foxhound things and I couldn't expect her to do otherwise.

Now, I don't regret a single minute of my all-too-short time with Bonnie.  I can't tell you how much I loved that dog.  But I can tell you that she wasn't a good fit for my lifestyle and she caused me great anguish.  I swear my first grey hairs were a result of her slipping away in a flash -- bolting over the wall and running along the street -- and my panic as I ran after her.  Many people would have given up on Bonnie.  She might easily have ended up on "death row."  I would never have given up on her.  She was my baby.

As years passed, I learned more about dogs and I learned to make rational, logical decisions when selecting them.  I have certain "minimum standards."  I want an intelligent dog.  I must have one that is non-aggressive around other animals and people.  I will not choose a breed that is infamous for mauling other dogs, children or elderly people who are merely walking their poodle on the sidewalk.  I must have a dog that is not prone to roaming, because I do not want to have to panic every time my dog goes out. It means a lot to me to have my dogs with me as I do barn chores or just hang around the property. I must have a dog that I can let out on the ranch and not worry about it leaving the place.  I also want a smooth-coated dog because I live in the desert and I care about my dogs being comfortable.  I want a dog that is a stock dog because we have horses and we like to work cattle and we value the stock dog traits.  We want a dog that can herd and gather cattle.  We also want an extremely active dog with a lot of stamina and the ability to run great distances, because they'll be hiking with us and riding with us and being busy throughout the day.  I'm here with them nearly all day, every day and I don't want a dog that needs to spend most of its day lounging on the sofa or in a baby stroller.

There's a perfect breed of dog for most people, and for us, it's the McNab.  It's rare that my husband and I don't comment about how ideal they are for us and how we love them.  They just fit. And guess what?  We keep our dogs for their entire lifespan and it's important to us that we get them as puppies.  Sinner!  You scream.  Hundreds of thousands of dogs perish every year at the shelter.  How COULD you?  Well, MY dogs don't go to the shelter.  I donate to the shelter.  I support the shelter.  I actively assist in placing dogs with people as opportunity presents itself.  But no, I do not get my dogs from the shelter.

Here's some interesting news, folks:  there aren't a lot of McNabs in the local shelter.  I know, because I check regularly. Now, sadly enough, there are many shelter and rescue types who have labeled pit-bulls and pit-bull mixes as "McNabs" -- just as they like to label pit-bulls and pit-bull mixes as "Shepherd mix" or "Labrador cross."  What a disservice to the humans and people who are trying to fit a dog to their own lifestyle.  Pitbulls, like other breeds, have specific characteristics that aren't for everyone, just as poodles do, and Great Danes do.  They should be identified as such so they have the advantage of going to a home that is well suited for them.  So should McNabs.

Now, I could just go to the shelter and choose a random dog.  I know for a fact I'd love just about any dog I randomly selected.  That doesn't mean they're right for me.  A tiny dog wouldn't fare well here, with our coyotes and bobcats and kicking horses and other hazards.  I spent 13 years nurturing and cherishing my Papillon -- and she ultimately expired of natural causes.  I have decided against having a tiny dog again, as much as I adore them -- the risks are too great.  It's too risky that they'll meet a tragic end, and too risky that I'll have another heartbreak.

I could choose a dog that would be aggressive, and have to make an unfortunate decision at some point because they are a threat.  That's heartbreaking, too.  I could choose a dog that is prone to hip dysplasia or skin allergies or other issues from over-breeding and careless bloodlines.  Heck, I could choose a dog that has breed-related inability to breathe because their nose is freakishly foreshortened.  I won't, because I love my dogs and I can't put myself through watching their misery.

I researched the right breeds and chose a stock dog -- a McNab, specifically -- because they're right for me.  That means the chance we'll have long, happy, healthy lives together is great.  We have a large property with thousands of acres out our back door that they can romp on.  We spend time with our dogs like (or more than) most people spend with their children.  We are a responsible and caring home.

I mentioned to my husband that I was "shelter bombed."  He shook his head.  He commented that one of his co-workers always gets shelter animals and that he constantly complains about them.  They aren't the right animal for him.  He does the right thing, of course, by adopting a dog.  However, it doesn't mean it's a recipe for sure success.  It may end up with his animals returning to the county pound -- and how said is that?  Sent back to death row because they weren't a good choice?

Dogs are divided into a vast variety of breeds.  They've been selectively bred for hundreds of years to exhibit breed-specific tendencies and traits and conformation.  Poodles are bred for a certain standards; bloodhounds, another entirely; Belgian Malinois, yet a completely different profile.  They are bred for personality traits, work drives, play drives, shape, size, ad infinitum.  One breed doesn't fit all, folks.  It is a cruelty to buy a Malinois and expect it to be a poodle. It's a cruelty to buy a poodle and expect it to be a border collie.  It's a cruelty to buy a border collie and keep it in your poodle-sized apartment and your poodle-suited lifestyle.

For us, we avoid poodles.  Not that I don't appreciate their intelligence and their lack of shedding and their cute, bright eyes.  They're just not the right breed for us.  We have intelligently, rationally chosen McNabs.  Now, you might favor poodles.  I have friends who adopted the most wonderful, loving poodles from the pound.  That makes me happy.  In fact, if you adopt your wonderful, loving random dog from the pound, that makes me happy, too.  It makes me even happier when you keep that dog and love him for the rest of his natural life.  That's a success story.

But don't immediately respond with your self-righteous, "Oh, I would never buy a dog when there are dogs on death row at the shelter" crap.  That just smacks of today's incessant need to control and judge.  It might be right for you but it isn't right for us.  I'll never look at your dog and say, "Oh, I would never buy a dog of unknown parentage."  The way you choose your dogs is as personal a decision as how you choose to have your child.  If you adopt a child rather than choosing to bring one into this overpopulated, violent world, you're a hero.  Choose to carry your own child in your womb and then raise baby Kimber lovingly and well, you're a hero, too.  And if you adopt a shelter dog -- guess what, you're a hero.  But before you raise that sword of righteousness because others don't get their pups from the pound, think about those of us who consider our dogs our own children, and go about having them as logically, rationally and intelligently as possible.  Why?  Because we love them -- and we want them to have long, happy, loved lives with us.

Copyright © 2014 by MJ Miller.  All rights reserved.  No part of this content, including photographs, may be copied, in whole or in part, without the express permission of the author.  Links to this page, however, may be freely shared.  Thank you for linking, liking, pinning, sharing, emailing, forwarding, +1'ing, tweeting or otherwise helping grow my readership.  Most of all, thank you for visiting and reading.  May dog hold you in the palm of his paw.