Coming here wasnโt my choice. One day I was spending time with my family and the next Iโm in a room without a clue as to who these people are, why Iโm here, or whatโs happening. Donโt get me wrong, theyโre nice. They feed me each morning, and in the afternoon. We play catch outside. There are treats in boxes and big rubber balls that I go searching for.
People pet me daily. They wish me well. They call me a good boy. The bed in my kennel is warm and fluffy. Thereโs a lot of other dogs here, none of whom I know.
Itโs confusing to be cared for while still being scared. To never know who is coming through the door or when the doors are going to open. The humans say adoption and forever home, but all I hear are the noises all around me, the barking, talking, and things being put up, sometimes dropped, the swish swish of stuff being washed.
Water hoses spraying.
Boots clanking.
The dogs here one day arenโt the dogs here the next. Some of us stay but three or more a day are leaving with new humans to new places.
If I was a human sitting in a home, would I care if hundreds of people visited me each month?
Their intentions are pure but the noise they bring is a constant ring, ring, ring, of all of us barking. The stress here rises.
I wish I could speak when the humans we meet ask, why canโt I go in the dog room?
Just ask to see us Iโd say. The humans will bring us. Keep our room quiet, keep it safe, Iโd tell them. Help keep the pups happy, weโre comfortable in this space. Temporary as it may be, itโs an important part of our journey to find our forever home.
