Strange Fetish

All the area municipal pounds have their own arrangements where euthanasia is concerned- generally private vets, who I image charge the pound (and thus taxpayers) for the service. On occasion, in a bind, we will help one of our local pounds out by doing a few here or there, or in dire circumstances, such as an ugly hoarding raid or somesuch.

I never mind helping the pound of the town in which our shelter sits. The ACOs are both wonderful, cool guys. Definitely not the brainless, brawny, union-babied sort that fit the stereotype.

Today they needed our help with one of their own complicated situations involving a huge brute of an American Bulldog with a sexual fetish for large plastic items such as carriers, trash cans and buckets. Often, the dogs they need our help with are pick-ups from the community...generally pits who want to eat the face of any human being who looks directly at them. Often, they are the sorts who can't be safely handled, even on a steel snare pole. Ones who require the dart gun. But this one was different. A huge block of muscle and testosterone, this dog had been rescued by the ACOs from a life of being tied to a dumpster. He had remained at the pound, up for adoption, for a couple months. He was way too much dog for most people, and a certain danger to public safety, in the wrong hands. A giant jack O' lantern head mounted on a Sherman tank body. From the start, he was trouble. In the AC van, on the way from his dumpster to the pound, he managed to get some nookie with a hapless plastic crate which was also in the back of the van. It broke apart, leaving him with the metal grate door firmly stuck on his...er....
The ACO rushed him to a veterinarian for help, being that there was blood, and a metal cage door dangling, stuck to the dog's belly. By the time they made it in to the exam room, the excitement had subsided, the bulb of the penis went back to normal, and the door fell off. I suspect the veterinary staff is still talking about that one.

He sat at the pound for months, occasionally finding a way to have his way with a bucket or trash can, and the staff got to like him. Finally, "the right home" for so much dog seemed to come along. It lasted a couple days. He became aggressive, frightening the new adopters. He came at one of them pretty seriously when they tried to stop him from humping a trash can. There would be absolutely no stopping a dog of his strength, should he choose to back up his charge. "High Value Aggression," anyone? It was clear that a big, strong, hypermasculine dog who was used to a junkyard life would not be a suitable housepet. Neutering was on the docket and just hadn't taken place just yet. But at middle age, tendencies, I believe, are formed. This was obviously a lifelong habit. These sorts of decisions are never made lightly. We are all here to save and do the best we can for the most we can. But this big lug was a severe liability. Not to mention, from his point of view, his chances for a safe, comfortable, proper, secure, temptation-free life ahead were slim. A life in a chain link run is no life at all. Not to mention, at a municipal pound, the influx never stops...cannot hbe halted by the words, "Sorry, we're full." Most other random or breed rescues won't take on a bite risk like that....and they're usually all full, too. So the staff decided to let him go. You know...let him "go."

When the ACO arrived, I came out to the back of the van to hear a huge ruckus within. I thought it was some freaked-out, aggressive display....I wondered if I should go set up the tranq gun. But no. It was the big blockhead going to town on another plastic dog crate, like there was no tomorrow. He had busted his tether in the van to get to it. And he wasn't going to leave it without a fight. Finally, he was wrangled away and guided into the back room, all worked up...red-faced and intense. Finally calming a bit as no plastic objects were in sight.

Things went easily, he became sedate and then he went to the big Rubbermaid factory in the sky. I made a pawstamp on a card for the ACO to take back for everyone, and he showed me some goofy, jack o'lantern grinning, upside down headshots of the dog on his cellphone camera, playing earlier in the day. This was a hard one for the pound staff. They loved him as much as they could. They won't forget him. And he is safe now, in a much better place than this complicated, generally apathetic world.