Adoptions
Cats Need A Good Home....
Cats & Kittens available for adoption through 1 By 1 Rescue at PetSmart in Wyomissing and Temple, PA. http://1by1catrescue.org/
Cat Angel Network inside Pottstown & Dowingtown PetSmarts -- http://catangel.org/
Don't Shop....ADOPT!! Check out
BACKYARD BREEDERS....
Breeding animals responsibly takes a lot of knowledge, time and money. Breeding pets to make money or show the children the miracle of life is never a good idea.... Take your kids to the shelter on euthanasia day and let them experience the miracle of death!
FINDING A RESPONSIBLE BREEDER...
To find a Responsible Breeder, go to a local dog show or visit the AKC: AKC Breeder Referral page http://www.akc.org/breeds/complete_breed_list.cfm. The Newspaper is NOT a good place to find one!
Find an AKC club in your area by using this directory: http://www.akc.org/clubs/search/index.cfm
More information is available at www.akc.org. Consumers should direct questions and concerns about AKC registration to AKC Customer Service at 919-233-9767, or e-mail info@akc.org.
Puppy Lemon Law http://www.attorneygeneral.gov/consumers.aspx?id=163
STAY AWAY FROM PUPPY MILLS
What is a Puppy Mill ? http://nppmwatch.com/WhatPM.html
http://www.unitedagainstpuppymills.org/
PLEASE REMEMBER:THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A FREE PET!!
In addition to TLC, pets require premium food, toys, treats, grooming, collars/leashes, exercise, training, spay/neuter, yearly vet exams, flea/tick control, heartworm prevention, dental care, vaccinations, pet beds, carrier/crate, boarding/daycare, etc., in addition to any "emergency care" that may arise. The average yearly cost of caring for a dog or cat is about $1000 !!
Please consider adopting your next pet...
Shelters in the US are sadly overfilled with dogs, cats and other animals that have been found running loose, confiscated or surrendered by their previous owners. Meanwhile, puppy mills and "backyard breeders" continue to breed more animals looking for a quick buck and creating all sorts of health problems.
Find your perfect pet match
Many shelters do some type of "personality matching" to ensure the best match for each pet. An animal that is adopted, only to be let loose or returned to the shelter, can suffer more damage than waiting a bit longer to be adopted by the right family in the first place. The ASPCA has developed the Meet Your Match™ assessment tests to find out what type of pet best suits your lifestyle. Many quizzes suggest a particular breed of dog, however, it is important to keep in mind that these are just suggestions, and mixed breeds often share dominant breed traits.
What is the best age to adopt?
It is important to consider the age of the pet you are adopting. Kittens and puppies are always adorable, but they do require a bit more work and a lot more supervision. Here are some articles to consider on this topic:
- Should I get an adult cat or kitten for my first cat?
- Do I Want an Adult Dog or a Puppy?
- Top Ten Reasons to Adopt an Older Dog
What if I am looking for a specific breed?
Many breeds of dogs and cats are represented by various breed rescue groups. These are rescue organizations that specialize in one particular breed. Like other animals up for adoption, they may be rescues, strays or surrendered by their owners. Breed rescue groups are usually very well networked and can sometimes arrange transportation of a pet if the adoption is approved.
Petfinder.com is a great site that allows you to search by breed and lists thousands of pets in need of homes across the country.
Please consider adopting a pet. It is a win-win situation and a life-saver, too.
REMEMBER THAT BRINGING A PET HOME MEANS THAT YOU ARE MAKING A COMMITMENT TO THAT LIVING BEING FOR BETTER OR WORSE for THEIR LIFETIME...Please read this story below and know that Pets LOVE US UNCONDITIONALLY, you must do the same for them and keep your promise to them!
A letter from a dog – "How Could You?"
by Jim Willis
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask, "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.
We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate.
Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said, "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.
I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her.
It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
A Note from the Author:
If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as You read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American & Canadian animal shelters.
