Carol Reiter: Pig Dog, the Hound from Hell

Let me tell you a story about my dad and his dog.

My dad's dog, Jessie, was a red Queensland heeler. I called her the Pig Dog, because she came from a pig farm. My mom called her 'a going Jessie,' and a lot of my friends called her the Hound from Hell, because she had no problems letting people know what she thought of them.

But to my father, Jessie was perfect. She went everywhere with him, whether it was out on the tractor, discing all day, or just into town to get an ice cream.

Jessie even went on extended motor home vacations with my parents. They traveled all over the United States, seeing more of our country than I will probably ever be privileged to see.

I used to tease Jessie and tell her she was more well-traveled than I would ever be.

But that's not my story. This is.

On one of their vacations, they visited my aunt, my mom's sister, in Arkansas in July. My aunt is a very prim and proper lady, and doesn't really like pets. When my parents pulled in at her home, she met them outside.

No pets in my house, my aunt said.

Fine, my dad said. I'll just stay out here with Jessie.

That lasted about 20 minutes. My dad, with his dog next to him, sat out on the porch with his dog while my mom and her sister talked.

My aunt caved. Jessie got to come in, there was no drama, and my dad was happy.

The reason I tell this story is to illustrate how some people feel about their pets.

Then there are the other folks.

I was at the county animal shelter recently. Like always, the trip was hard. I wanted to take home every unwanted dog or sickly cat.

But I can't do that. And I can't understand how all these animals end up in our shelter.

Oh, there are some feral cats, little animals that are almost as wild as squirrels, but they are not in the majority.

What is in the majority are dogs and cats that were cast off like a couch no one wants. I saw young puppies, old, white-faced dogs and cats that just wanted to be petted and held.

How can someone just give up their pet? I've heard a lot of excuses over the years, and have taken in animals that no one wanted anymore.

A dog that sheds too much, a dog that's older and having health problems, even a beloved old dog who just didn't fit in someone's life anymore. A number of them have ended up in my care.

I have learned the hard way that my pets, especially my dogs, sometimes are my only true friends. That's a sad thing to realize, but at least I can count on them.

So what can be done about the animals that end up at a shelter, or dumped in the country, or even dumped on friends?

Spay and neuter, everyone says. That's the answer to our "overpopulation" of animals.

I heartily agree that spaying or neutering more animals would mean less animals in the world, but that's not the only problem.

I think we have to stop thinking about pets as disposable. Bringing home a sweet puppy and then a couple of years later, after the dog is no longer cute, dumping it, is just bull. I don't care what the dog does, from chewing up a couch to digging holes, there is almost no reason we dispose of our animals the way we do.

Whether we send our animals to a rescue, or euthanize them when there are no health problems, or just plain dumping them, I can't understand people who give up their pets.

I have some friends who have kept their animals despite the destruction, the dirt, and the problems a dog or cat may bring. They not only keep them, they love them and treat them like family.

I guess I shouldn't be so surprised, when we have people putting babies in trashbins. After all, it's just an animal, right?

Wrong. At least in my case. It's a friend, a confidant and as much a part of me as my family is.

So before you get that cute puppy or kitten, think down the line a few years and try to imagine all the problems that could come up. Could you deal with them?

If not, don't get the pet. Please. I don't want to see it at the shelter, and neither do any of the dedicated shelter workers.

When I hear excuses about why people can't keep their pets, I think of my dad and Jessie. My dad was willing to sit outside, in the damp, muggy heat of summer in the South, because he thought of Jessie as more than just a red dog.

She was his friend. End of story.

Reporter Carol Reiter can be reached at (209) 385-2486 or creiter@mercedsun-star.com.