Every Dog Has Its Day at 1 Shelter

Susie, a half-blind, 10-year-old Teacup Poodle, is what the San Clemente Animal Shelter is all about.

The curly haired dog with a surgically implanted pin in its foreleg would have been killed at the other Orange County animal shelters, San Clemente animal officials say.

Instead, Susie was kept in a child’s playpen while volunteers at the San Clemente Animal Shelter searched for a new owner. Susie wasn’t allowed to stay with her previous owner, who went into a nursing home.

Five days after Susie arrived at the shelter, volunteers paired her with a Dana Point woman who had been looking for a quiet, small dog--just like Susie.

“This dog would be put down in any other shelter,” said Sgt. Cathy Maynard, animal services officer. “We give every single dog a chance in here.”

Philosophy Called Naive

Unlike the five other Orange County shelters, the 2-year-old San Clemente Animal facility kills animals only when they are severely sick or injured, Maynard said. The others kill animals because of overcrowding, medical problems or when an animal is less likely to be adopted.

While noble and laudable, other shelters say, San Clemente’s philosophy is naive.

“It’s a numbers game that you can’t keep up with,” said Nancy Goodwin, animal services manager for the Laguna Beach Animal Shelter.

When Laguna Beach’s shelter was founded in 1976, “we never killed any dogs and we really had problems,” Goodwin said. Now, “you save the ones you know will go into a good home, so they’re not constantly returned to the shelter or they’re dumped somewhere else.”

Just as Laguna Beach’s shelter abandoned its no-death stance, so will San Clemente’s, Goodwin predicted. “It’s just not realistic,” she said.

Problems in Summer

San Clemente’s shelter does run into problems in the summer, when the pet population explodes, Maynard said. There are 35 dog runs and nine cat cages, but the shelter has held up to 60 dogs and 20 cats by putting two and three animals in spaces meant for one.

So far, shelter officials have been able to relieve overcrowding without killing by waiving several fees, such as the usual adoption charge of $15 for dogs and $10 for cats.

During the peak periods, volunteers also put “San Clemente Animal Shelter” signs around the dogs’ necks and parade them around town, the beaches and Dana Point Harbor looking for potential adopters.

Two years ago, the San Clemente City Council formed the shelter on an experimental basis after residents complained about the Orange County shelter. The county facility in Orange was too far away to retrieve lost pets and there were complaints about animal control services, Maynard said.

In response, the city bought an outdoor roller-skating rink on Avenida Pico and gave the shelter a $72,000 budget. The plan is to repay the money through licensing, impound and adoption fees and a newspaper and aluminum recycling program operated at the shelter. So far, it has repaid $50,000 of its $72,000 budget. The future of the shelter is up for review again in June.

Depends on Volunteers

As at other shelters, San Clemente depends on its volunteers to help keep things operating smoothly.

One of the volunteers’ most important contributions, Maynard said, is keeping track of animals that are lost or found or up for adoption. They also keep a list of people who are looking for particular animals. It was the “animals-wanted list” that matched Susie with her new owner, who had been on the list since Dec. 20.

And as at other shelters, every day many of San Clemente’s 50 volunteers take the animals for several walks and bathe, feed and groom them.

But San Clemente’s volunteers take things a step further, Maynard said.

Rusty Comes Back

Rusty, a year-old, bloodhound and Doberman mix, was adopted after six weeks at the shelter and returned suddenly by its new owner. “The guy brought Rusty back because he took a cookie out of the baby’s hand,” said Sandra Ackerman, president of the board of directors of the Friends of the San Clemente Animals.

So, to make his return a little easier, Ackerman walked Rusty to a nearby Carl’s Jr. and treated him to a hamburger.

“For years I’ve been standing back, shaking my head, saying, ‘Why doesn’t somebody do something,’ ” Ackerman said. “Now I am. And I’m doing some good.”