Waiting game

Unfixed pets, irresponsible owners push shelter to limit

Dec. 24, 2006

Editor's note: The following is the first in a two-part story about the plight of abandoned and stray animals in the Mat-Su Borough.

By MATT TUNSETH

Frontiersman

MAT-SU - It's hard to avoid thinking of the place as a prison. The residents are housed in cages with concrete floors. There are segregated areas for those who are dangerous to others. There's even a death house.

But there's one big difference between a prison for humans and this place: nearly all the inmates are here because of the misdeeds of others.

Welcome to the Mat-Su Borough's Animal Care and Regulation shelter, where each day hundreds of discarded animals are cared for by an overworked group of public employees tasked with managing all the dogs, cats, rabbits, horses and more left homeless because of the irresponsibility of their owners.

Dave Allison is head of the borough's animal control department. He doesn't deny that the role of his department is much like that of a police force.

&#8220In essence, we're exactly like that,” he said recently from the borough's facility on North 49th State Street between Palmer and Wasilla.

Allison doesn't necessarily like the comparison, but knows it's an apt one. What bothers him is the fact that nearly all of the workload placed on his department could be avoided if people were to spay and neuter their pets.

&#8220It's a huge problem,” he said. &#8220Spay and neuter. It's that simple. There are literally thousands of unwanted animals in our community.”

A trip through the facility quickly demonstrates Allison's point. In cages stacked on top of each other, lost and stray cats - cooped up and often hostile - peer quietly from small cages or angrily reach through the bars to try and scratch visitors.

Dogs stare out at visitors with sad expressions, or bark enthusiastically at the prospect of human contact. Most of the cages are full, a result both of a facility that isn't large enough to handle the volume of animals brought in and an ever-increasing volume of unwanted animals coming through the front door.

Conditions are humane, but far from comfortable. Animals used to roaming free don't do well when held captive in small pens, and life in the pound can be unbearable.

On a recent visit to the facility's holding area, a sad looking dog - a 6-year-old husky-mix - moves little, simply sitting quietly and staring out with hopeless eyes. Allison said the reaction is common among animals who have been brought to the facility.

&#8220How would you feel?” he asked. &#8220If they're used to living with a family, then they end up here, a dog like that doesn't cope well with the shelter environment.”

And the sad truth is that the animals can't stay in the shelter's cages forever. Space restrictions, as well as quality-of-life issues, mandate that shelter employees make tough decisions on the animals. Although every effort is made to place animals with adoptive homes, they can't stay forever. And that means that some adoptable animals must eventually be destroyed.

&#8220It's a quality-of-life issue,” Allison said. &#8220What's more humane? We have to either find them a family or put them down. After a while they get cagey.”

The shelter has programs to help save some adoptable animals, such as one at the Hiland Mountain Correctional Center in Eagle River to train unwanted animals.

But that's just those animals that are determined to be able to get along with people. Many of the shelter's residents are beyond saving. For them - those that are feral or sick - life beyond the shelter is not an option.

In a room reserved for feral cats, Allison points to a group of three feisty tabbies caged together. Litter mates, they were brought in together by someone who could not care for them, and they're not exactly good candidates for adoption.

&#8220Be careful,” Allison warned. &#8220You don't want to get too close.”

He's not kidding. The cats lash out with their sharp claws at anyone who gets near their cages.

&#8220Feral cats are the most dangerous,” he said. &#8220They can just unleash

on you.”

Allison said everyone who works at the shelter has been bitten or scratched at least once, and employees use special protective gear to clean the cages and feed the animals.

The cats will be held at the facility for a while - likely until the veterinarian gets back from vacation - then a determination will be made on their fate. Unfortunately, that fate will almost certainly mean a lethal injection and trip to the crematorium, where the shelter's euthanized animals are burned in a 1,675-degree Fahrenheit furnace.

It's not a part of the job Allison

relishes. &#8220Any time you kill something you love, it's a pretty gruesome job,” he said.

Employee turnover can be high, and most shelter workers don't end up staying longer than a few years. The stress involved with caring for, then killing, animals is just too great.

&#8220There have been a couple times we've had to have some counseling intervention,” he said.

What bothers Allison the most about the whole situation is that it could be prevented. And pulling no punches, he says the problem of strays and unwanted animals is something that the Valley should be ashamed of.

&#8220The Mat-Su prides itself on being an animal-friendly place. We're the home of the Iditarod,” he said. &#8220But many times, the majority of the resources don't go for the animals.”

Irresponsible pet owners, he said, are the ones to blame for the

problem.

&#8220It's a dynamic that has to change.”

Matt Tunseth can be reached

at 352-2265 or matt.tunseth@

frontiersman.com.