The Other Side of Rehoming a Pet: The Human's TAIL

Photo courtesy of The Senior Dog Sanctuary of Maryland

It is heartbreaking to hear stories of pets losing their homes and families and ending up in shelters. These situations are often colored with assumptions and judgements about circumstances we know nothing about.

I was inspired to write this after seeing a Facebook post about a man who lost his housing and had no way of caring for his best friend. This story has a happy ending because the man reunites with the dog once his life circumstances change, but most endings aren't this neat and tidy. This is the needle in the haystack story.

There is so much underlying privilege involved when we judge someone who is forced to re-home their beloved pet — especially when the reason is related to housing. Few things make me angry, but this is high on my short list.

This story was originally posted on May 14, 2024, on the Senior Dog Sanctuary of Maryland Facebook page, about ten months before my writing this. It has stayed with me all this time, but I've put off writing about it because emotionally charged feelings are hard for me to express. I tend to tiptoe delicately so as not to offend anyone — with lots of typing and deleting as I imagine “The Comments” that could potentially be thrown at me. This holds me back from producing any final product, but I am surrendering to the good enough and hitting publish. After all, this isn't about me.

“On November 10th, 2023, weeping and in the pouring rain, Tony, Prince’s Dad, had little hope left. This veteran had lost his home and didn’t have the means to care for his pup anymore. The Senior Dog Sanctuary agreed to take Prince, and Tony said, “Please take care of him, and I will come back for him. Please.” While agreeing to care for him, we couldn’t promise Prince wouldn’t find another home, but we told him there was always hope.

Every week, Tony called to check on Prince. He would update us on how his life was going, and we could hear the hope in his voice that he would make it back on his feet to come for his beloved German Shepherd. Prince was anxious and scared without his human, but the staff and volunteers at SDS did everything possible to help him acclimate to life at the sanctuary.

Fall turned to winter, and Prince started to find his place among the other senior dogs. A family came to visit him and decided this German Shepherd would make the best addition to their family. On January 26th, Prince was adopted. We had to call Tony to tell him the news. It was one of the hardest phone calls we’ve had to make, and Tony wept uncontrollably. He had thought hope would see him through to reuniting with his pup, but it didn’t seem meant to be.

But then something happened. Prince was returned. Sometimes, dogs aren’t the right fit for a family, and SDS is always willing to take dogs back because we believe things always work out as they should. Another phone call was made to Tony, but this time with more hope. Maybe Tony and Prince would find their way back to each other.

Last week, on May 10th, six months after Prince’s surrender, two staff members brought Prince back to Tony in his new Baltimore home! The moment was pure joy as Prince looked up at his owner with the unconditional love only a dog can give. Life had shown them dark times, but they had made it into the light. Tony had his sidekick once again. Their photo together says it all. Hope finds a way.”

This post touched me as it perfectly illustrates the hidden side of surrendering a pet. Actually, it’s not so much hidden, but rather a side we don’t want to think about. It’s easier to lump surrendering a pet into a category of the worst possible thing someone can do than to imagine the circumstances that led up to it.

The comments on this post were compassionate because we could see the full picture. But, when we don’t, and all we know is someone is moving and can’t take their pet — brace yourself for the hostile comments.

In addition to the judgement, for some reason, many commenters feel the need to let the internet world know they would never move somewhere they couldn’t bring their pet. This one kills me. Good for you — we now know you are a good person, and the one forced to surrender their pet isn't. Got it. (Sorry, I’m not this sassy in real life, but this topic brings up big feelings). It’s not always as simple as making a different choice.

I’ll pause here — I’m not naive; I know there are people who actively decide to move somewhere without regard for their pet — in these situations, the pet is not considered or treated like a family member. I’m not referring to this subset of rehoming due to a change in housing.

Let’s face it: Finding housing amid a financial crisis isn’t easy, and when you have a pet that might be on the long list of most apartment-restricted breeds, it’s even harder. It’s not as straightforward as having a plethora of housing options and intentionally not selecting the living situation that allows your dog. The recommended solution concocted from behind computer screens, “then move somewhere that does allow your pet,” isn't always possible.

Not everyone has family to stay with, or family who can accommodate the pet. It's not always possible to secure housing without breed restrictions. And yes, I get that you might choose to live in your car with your dog before surrendering him, but you own a car. That is a privilege not afforded to everyone. Can you imagine your only option being to stay in a room of a friend’s home who has a resident dog aggressive dog? I can, and it breaks my heart.

I will never forget a surrender I witnessed in 2005 when I was working at our local SPCA. A man came into the intake office to surrender his beloved cat — note the language — “beloved” cat. He could barely speak through his tears. He had fallen upon hard times and was moving in with his family, who would not allow him to bring his cat. He hoped the shelter could house it for a few months until he got back on his feet. We weren’t — that's not how animal shelters work. So he kissed his cat goodbye and left, tears running down his face.

To this day, I regret not offering to foster his cat. Honestly, it never even occurred to me until after the fact. I think about that missed opportunity all too often.

And yes, I understand this is not everyone’s situation, and probably more often than not, those who move without their pet are not strongly bonded, but sometimes they are. They are actual people with circumstances we know nothing about. They are not always the monsters they’re made out to be. Can you imagine how much shame and devastation they already feel? And then to compound it by attacking them? It’s awful.

Instead, try sending some compassion their way. Consider offering condolences. You are blessed if you can’t imagine falling into such a situation — don’t take that for granted.