We need to look after our own animals first

Bid to rescue U.S. dog was expensive and misguided, says

VICTORIA A few months ago, I was party to very disturbing events involving a rescue dog from a California high-kill shelter.

Cali was a pit bull cross and had been saved from her pending fate. She was young, untrained and exceptionally strong and nimble, and it quickly became apparent she should not have made the long, expensive and ultimately tragic voyage to Canada — and to Vancouver Island, where we had hoped to give her a new home.

On the ferry over from Vancouver, after being flown in by a woman who rescues U.S. dogs, Cali had to remain on the outside deck, not in the dog area, because of her aggression.

Days after, while on leash, she broke away, having detected the scent of another dog. In a flash, she ran about 150 metres onto private property and attacked a small dog. The animal lived, but not without an almost $7,000 vet bill for which my family became responsible.

I contacted three local dog rescue societies, hoping bright-eyed Cali, with her shining black coat, could be rehabilitated, but none could help. Besides, the dog saviours had their hands full with B.C. dogs that people could no longer afford to keep, or who had to give them up because they lived in apartments or because old age limited their caregiving.

At the B.C. SPCA, the response was even less promising. Not only was Cali’s extreme aggression prohibitive for SPCA entry, also significant was her history of having come from the Riverside, Calif. shelter.

“There’s a reason why they’re in high-kill shelters,” the SPCA manager told me.

These dogs are beyond the pale, victims of indiscriminate breeding, dog-fighting rings, criminal neglect or abandonment.

Another ticking time bomb is that rescue dogs from outside of Canada can carry diseases and parasites rare to Canada, and thus pose a threat to animals and people.

Dogs brought from the U.S., such as Cali, don’t have to be quarantined if they are declared a pet, nor do they need a microchip or tattoo. The dogs must have a rabies vaccine.

Across Canada, the SPCA manager also told me, there are more than enough suffering dogs that need homes. Importing canines is irrational given recent, and longstanding, domestic events.

Last month, for example, Manitoba’s Norway House Animal Rescue organization was left pleading for help when 700 dogs were left stranded on two First Nation reserves after forest fires forced out about 1,400 residents.

Search any city or humane society; domestic animals in need are easy to find. But just as numerous are rescue organizations working to import foreign dogs and cats. Duelling animal lovers.

In Canada, anyone can start an animal rescue organization, accept animals and ask for donations. It’s as easy as creating a Facebook page. Regulations are lacking and even if they did exist, they would not be fully enforced.

The people who create the international rescue groups are well meaning and usually compassionate. The people who agree to adopt the often-damaged creatures are similar. They all want to save the animals.

But Cali was not saved. In a heartbreaking act, the pup had to be euthanized because there was just too much risk. There was no organization willing to train her and the owners didn’t have the necessary ability and time.

By the time Cali died, the experience cost my family and the dog rescuer $8,000, and much sadness and guilt. The money could have gone a long way to pay expenses at an SPCA shelter. What started as a caring, but misguided, bid to help an animal became a painful mistake.

Beyond the cold cash, it’s time to rethink how pets are created. Puppy mills, disposable animals and unsuitable owners know no boundaries, but a start would be to focus on Canada. Instead of importing rescue pets, we should be solving our own dogged problems first.