Above all else, it is my belief that if you are working in any field that involves the welfare of animals then you should be a compassionate person. This is a fundamental necessity, a mandatory trait that one must have. Being compassionate is not a saying that you can slap on a bumper sticker and then feel good about yourself in any genuine capacity. It is a way of being and a way of thinking, a consistent response that radiates from one’s heart.

I find it appalling that in the United States of America so many shelter “managers” continue to passively and dismissively allow so much of what is being done to be done in their names and under their watch. What are they managing exactly? Is it the sheltering of animals? Is it the engagement of community? Is it the brainstorming of programs? Is it the betterment of environment, both physical and mental? Or is it the killing of dogs? Is it the moving of bodies? Is it the fudging of numbers? Is it the handcuffing of allies? The initial statement from this paragraph could just as easily be applied to a rather large chunk of society as well. I realize and acknowledge that, and see these issues going hand in hand. One could lead to the solution of the other, and that goes in both directions. Yet no vision is ever shown, no faith is ever had, no attempt is ever made.

My heart hurts when individual dogs are treated as if they never mattered or existed. My heart hurts knowing that each has a unique personality and that that personality is never noted, or attempted to be seen or brought out, or attempted to be rounded in any positive way. My heart hurts when someone of “authority” in this realm hides behind things like “liability,” or “not enough time,” or “not enough money,” or “not enough resources.” How about not enough ambition? How about not enough work ethic? How about not enough integrity? How about not enough transparency? How about not enough interest in the lives that you were hired to actually give a damn about?

I’m tired. I’m tired of the same old invisible crutches being thrown out from the same old people who could easily learn how to walk if they just took a step. I’m tired of the same old people thinking that their actions wouldn’t make a world of difference for that 1, or 2, or 3 dogs that would very likely benefit from a strategical shift in direction, no matter how small. I’m tired of this unspoken screaming that says it is not in a manager’s job description to actually get to know the dogs that his or her facility houses. I’m tired of these manager’s not delegating tasks that are intended to make a positive difference. I’m tired of these manager’s not holding those underneath them accountable, or not taking an interest in what those people could then find out, at the behest of a busy manager, and then pass along to said manager in the interim. I’m tired of the emotional connection being cut at the nub. I’m tired of the emotional investment in one’s job being empty. I’m tired of morally bankrupt individuals being put into positions of influence as countless sweet and completely innocent souls routinely hang in the balance that that creates. I’m tired.

What I am speaking of is a dereliction of duty. If you, as a manager, disagree with the lot of what I’ve tried to express then I think that you, as a manager, are patently unqualified for your job.

Thousands of dogs die a day across the country. I want to focus on 3 that I knew. Maximus. Tigre. Lancelot. These are 3 dogs, no more important than any other nameless dog that may have died at this same facility, Carson; no less important than any dog fortunate enough to make it out. Little things matter. Effort matters. Interest matters. Thought matters. Intent matters. It all matters, and on no matter the scale. It all makes a difference for someone, for something, somewhere. God damn it, we are better than this.

I recorded observations in the honor of both Maximus and Tigre. I don’t want sympathy from someone that can’t even take 10 minutes out of their day to listen to, and ponder, the observations. This is important stuff that I am talking about. This is where a foundation is made. Are we continuing to promote the house of cards, or are we ever desiring to focus on those things that are, to whatever degree, actually within our control? That’s the definition of a root. There is injustice happening. I’m calling on people to give a damn, and to want to notice it. I’m calling on the manager of Carson, I’m calling on the managers elsewhere, I’m calling on my supporters, I’m calling on my readers, I’m calling on my haters, I’m calling on everyone to do a little more than just bring something in 1 ear and robotically pull it out the other…

And then onto Lancelot… The below video quickly sums up the “sheltering” system better than most of the stuff that I can ever say. In a little over 3 minutes it will show you what you might see if you breeze on by, shows you what you would see if you took the time, creates an emotional connection, hits you in the face with the harsh reality and then gives the impression of some retaliation to top it all off…

In closing, I don’t want anything other than the chance to ignite something within your heart or within your mind, or both. I’d definitely prefer the person whose heart and mind is interconnected and working in some form of harmony. Just the chance. If you think that I’m full of shit, fine. At least you took the time to come to that conclusion on your own. But if you think that I’m the opposite, make it worth all of our while. Be a voice. Multiply the information. Put your own spin on it. Better, be better than me. Be you. Engage. Be my partner, or somebody else’s partner, and let’s all have the courage to want to make a positive impact. Making even an incremental difference could mean the difference between life or death for any number of dogs. This is important stuff to the dog whose life might be saved. That’s all for now.