Kristie Periera was told by veterinarians that her beagle-mix puppy Beau had serious neurological problems and advised that her most humane option was to have little Beau euthanized. Despite her determination to fight for the puppy despite the likely expense and slim chances of success, she was persuaded to end Beau’s suffering by colleagues at the shelter where she worked, the Lost Dog and Cat Rescue in Maryland. The little dog was scheduled to be euthanized in late March 2023, but Kristie was told she couldn’t be with him, as the shelter had a policy of not allowing owners to witness their pets’ demise.
As an aside, I have never heard of such a policy, and I would immediately question the competence and motives of any shelter that had one. Sounds like a dog trafficking operation to me….
Periera moved to Texas, but when she returned to Maryland a year later to visit her mother, she was amazed to find a picture of Beau on the shelter’s website, but with a new name. Sure enough, the shelter responded to her inquiry by informing her that her puppy was never euthanized. A second opinion from the vets concluded that Beau was suffering from a curable liver problem, and a $7000 procedure paid for by a GoFundMe campaign rendered him healthy and happy with the prospect of a long life ahead.
But when Periera said she would be willing to pay the $7000 to get Beau back, she was told that the shelter “does not re-home an owner-surrendered dog with its former adopter/owner.” Even when it was the shelter that convinced the owner to give up the dog! Interesting.
Who are these people?
Kristie has told the press that when she called the shelter, the staff was hostile, accusing her of “abandoning him, and that I left him to die. That I never cared about him.”
If Kristie’s version of events is accurate and she was willing and able to pay $7,000 for her puppy, she should also be willing to hire a lawyer and make that shelter roll over and beg. I suspect that this whole mess is the result of the poor or absent training of animal shelter and veterinary clinic staff, a problem which seems to be endemic to the field.
Grace and I had a similar, though not as outrageous, experience with Chief, our Basset Hound who also had some kind of neurological issue that led him to attack members of our family for no discernible reason. We asked our vet to euthanize him after a week of observation, but got a nasty phone call from a staff member chastising us for wanting to kill such a sweet and beautiful dog. I found my wife in tears, and called the clinic to complain. The chief vet apologized profusely, saying that the symptoms we described made Chief unadoptable, and that her staff was completely out of line. “They don’t know what they are talking about,” she told us.
Good luck Kristie, and good luck Beau, whose new name, “Amos Hart,” is the name of a sad-sack character in “Chicago” who sings a song I detest, “Mr. Cellophane.” I hope you get your loving owner back, and your name, too.
Ethics Alarms 
What do you detest about Mr. Cellophane, out of curiosity?
Well, there’s a personal reason: long ago I was the artistic director for a revue group called “Take Five”: four performers and a pianist. The group performed at a DC cabaret spot. It had two superb performers, and two very mediocre performers, and the mediocre male’s “big solo” in the revue was “Mr Cellophane.” He could sing it OK, but he didn’t have the chops to make it work dramatically, and how I tried to beef up his performance. He could dance a bit, but just had a weak on-stage presence. I watched him sing that song to tepid applause for months and always regarded it as the low point in the whole show. Yet I couldn’t replace the song, because at least its whiny, poor me! tone fit his personality: I kept trying to come up with something else, but a) he liked the song and b) anything else would have been worse.
I can’t see or think of the song without having bad flashbacks. Meanwhile, I’m not a Kander and Ebb fan in general. Ebb in particular I felt was second rate—he wasn’t especially witty or deft with rhymes, just okay. The duo did 14 Broadway shows from 1964 to 2015, 49 years: a record for a musical theater team, and 14 Broadway shows tied with Gilbert and Sullivan. But only one of the K&E musicals is a certifiable classic, with one more, “Chicago,” rescued by Bob Fosse’s flashy choreography. “Cellophane” is a dance number if someone like Joel Grey plays the part as he did on Broadway: I’d put it in the same wistful category as “Mr. Bojangles,” “Nobody” ( a Burt Williams standard ) and “Who Can I turn to when nobody needs me?,” all superior numbers musically and thematically.
And now I can’t get the damn thing out of my head!
Hey, did you hear the one about the ghost who tap danced?
His name was BOO-jangles! 😄
“As an aside, I have never heard of such a policy, and I would immediately question the competence and motives of any shelter that had one. Sounds like a dog trafficking operation to me….“
Neither have I. I have had to euthanize two dogs in my life and I’ve been able to be present both times. Dog trafficking or re-homing for a profit is exactly what I think was happening and probably is. She only has the clinic’s word that her dog was treated, after all; the same clinic that told her the puppy couldn’t be treated and that she couldn’t be in the room with him at the time of death. Sounds to me like she take legal action to get her dog back and use another veterinarian from now on.
That sounds right. Grace and I were involved in putting down four dogs and a beloved cat, and all of them seemed to be comforted by having one or both of us there. Chief was the single one we did not see euthanized, because the whole situation broke our hearts, and I still have nightmares about the poor dog’s reaction after he attacked my son and I pulled him away—whimpering, crying, trying to get as close to me as possible while looking up at me, pawing at me, coming as close to saying “I”m sorry! Please forgive me!” as an animal can. I have trouble even writing about it.
My local city-funded shelter has a no owner present policy. Had to utilize their services as a poor recent graduate. Don’t remember the reason, but believe it was to ease scheduling problems with vets, or veterinary students. They said I could pick up the pet carrier the next day, but elected just to donate it.
I was present for the next two pets–a cat that shared half my life, and a cat that only lived with me a couple months. I wouldn’t give up the memories of those last purrs for anything.
Nor I. Exactly.
Looks like they’re feeling the heat and have responded:
https://www.lostdogrescue.org/amoshart/
That is a somewhat different story than the one originally reported. One key point is that there were two organizations involved — the group she adopted the dog from and the county shelter she turned the dog over to for euthanization.
LDCRF, who she adopted the dog from, issued that statement and it seems very reasonable and, in different circumstances, quite commendable for going the extra mile to save a dog.
If this woman worked for LDCRF one would think she would be aware of their policies regarding owner-surrendered dogs.
That makes it harder to know what the solution should be going forward, but it sounds less like animal trafficking than initially (unless LDCRF paid the shelter to take back the dog).
One does wonder if the two shelters are getting mixed up for parts of the original story.
The shelter that was supposed to euthanize the dog determined that the dog wasn’t as sick as the owner thought. It also had been paid to do the deed. It did not do the deed, did not inform the owner about the new medical opinion, deceived the owner and won’t let her get her dog back. That part is clear, and that’s plenty.
This story has been brewing in my head all night. The county shelter was paid a $15 surrender fee, which is pretty standard based on some unfortunate second hand exposure I have had to the process. The county shelter also reserved the right to reevaluate animals placed under their care.
The woman was advised by two different vets that the dog had neurological issues. It is also pretty clear the dog was seriously sick, with difficulty with bowel control and leg movement, promoting the second emergency vet visit.
Her two vets advised that the diagnosis would be expensive (potentially $12,000) and difficult, with no guarantee of success. Meanwhile the dog was actively sick.
The story gets murky when she discusses the dog’s situation with her “coworkers” at the private shelter. The woman claims the coworkers encouraged euthanisia, the private shelter claims it encouraged first returning the dog then being present if she chose euthanisia. This part is a he-said, she-said.
She then went to a third party, the county clinic. Maybe she was embarrassed to see her dog at the shelter she worked at? I don’t know her reason. She also coincidentally left the area soon after, presumably leaving the employment of the shelter. This, she was unaware the county shelter returned the dog to the private shelter (as the private shelter claims it advised the woman to do all along).
The county shelter’s policy of not allowing owner’s present during euthanisia is defensible, if on mostly utilitarian grounds. Public shelters tend to be stretched impossibly thin, and have to deal with the most difficult cases of abuse, neglect, or owner mental health. A few crying kids and an unstable mother present while a sick animal the family could not afford to treat being put down could be a dangerous situation for staff.
The county shelter also having a policy of revaluating pets surrendered to its care (and following through) is also commendable, particularly as many are stretched thin as noted. Some shelters advise owners they should simply presume euthanisia for all pets voluntarily surrendered.
So many stories here are of owners who put down healthy dogs for their own purportedly benevolent (if mistaken) bereasons. Sadly, that is an owner’s right, if they specifically pay for that service.
The woman in this story claims she received three professional opinions in favor of euthanizing the sick and suffering dog. Rather than bring it to a vet for that specific service, however, she brought it to a fourth party, the county shelter. She surrendered the animal, advising the fourth party of the three other’s opinions. We can know for sure what the county shelter staff said to her, other than that she could not be present if they euthanized it.
After a few days in the county shelter’s care, their staff concluded the serious illness did not appear to be neurological and/or untreatable. They exercised their right to divert safe and adoptable dogs, and sent it back to the private shelter which accepted it. The private shelter then spent considerable funds to treat the dog ($7000 with the discount from a third unrelated vet clinic). The private shelter then put it up for adoption at its standard fee $400 (far, far below the cost of treatment). Profit/pet trafficking clearly was not a motive.
The story should be a happy one, with the three major players (the woman, private shelter, and county shelter) all acting in good faith, with a healthy, happy, adoptable dog in the end. The only room for unethical conduct would be during private conversations between the parties that we have only partial hearsay to judge.
The private shelter’s claim of the news media sensationalizing the story and selectively reporting facts seems correct. The woman’s choice to surrender to the county shelter, rather than directly back to to private shelter where she got the dog remains unexplained; I suspect she was embarrassed to return it and face her coworkers. That she was uninformed of the dog between returned anyways seems more a case of leaving the employment of the private shelter and moving away than of malice.
That the woman was upset is understandable. That she wanted the dog back is understandable. That the private shelter had a policy of not returning surrendered animals is also understandable. The shelter invested a small fortune in treatment solely out of love of that dog. Could they have made an exception? That is a slippery slope. Did the women offer to reimburse the clinic upfront? Or did she burn bridges by going to the media? Frustratingly, we don’t have enough information.