I recently came across a video online regarding a dog adopted from a shelter that severely injured its adopter just one day after being brought home. The video featured a dog trainer examining footage of the dog from when he was still in the shelter to look for clues in his behavior that could have predicted the bites that occurred after his adoption. I am always interested in videos like this; I like to compare my own observations with the trainer’s and possibly pick up new information or insight.  

Unfortunately, this video did not offer me any new information beyond the fact that the trainer did not seem familiar with the unique environment of animal shelters or the behaviors of pets in them. Watching the video, I saw a stressed, nervous dog, unsure of his surroundings and unfamiliar with the person in the yard with him, which is the norm in a shelter, not the exception. 

The trainer stated that the dog was not showing “true sociability” despite consistently interacting with the staff member in the yard with him. My response to that is shaped by 20 years of watching pets in shelters: I am not surprised that the trainer didn’t see “true sociability.” The dog was out of his known environment, had no frame of reference for what was happening to him and no ability to understand it.

Unfortunately, dogs don’t speak English, and we cannot explain what is going on to them.  In a shelter, behavior exists on a wide spectrum and is rarely the same as how a pet will behave when secure and settled in their home. Stops along this spectrum range from clinging to the nearest person as “any port in a storm,” to hiding in a corner face first and declining all contact, to baring teeth, lunging and growling at all who approach. 

Being a “clinger” does not make a dog “social,” and hiding does not make a dog “unsocial.” Defensive behavior in the kennel often abates once dogs are out of the kennel environment, though sometimes it does not. Dogs handle the overwhelm of the shelter as humans do in similar contexts, with varying degrees of fight, flight, freeze or fawn. Being on edge, nervous and having trouble settling is “normal” in the shelter context. 

The commenters on the video pointed to the shelter staff member’s behavior as proof she “knew” the dog was dangerous, calling out that she did not want the dog in her face and actively leaned away from him when he put his face near hers. To the average person, this looks like fear; to shelter staff, it’s basic safety 101.  

One of the first things we teach new staff and volunteers is DO NOT put your face in the face of unknown dogs. Doing so can be scary to them, perceived as threatening and makes you vulnerable. We also teach not to sit down on the ground near a dog, but to squat down so you can stand up quickly, if needed. I do not let dogs that I am  unfamiliar with close to my face and I do not put my face in my personal dogs’ faces, either. If my dogs want to sniff my face, I allow them to, but I do not initiate. Respecting physical boundaries for dogs is vital, as it is for people. In the staff person, I saw a small woman interacting with a large dog that she barely outweighed, and her precautions made perfect sense to me.  

The trainer’s lack of understanding regarding the shelter environment and dogs’ behavior in it is one of the largest catch-22s in our field: the fact that we cannot predict the future. Had the shelter euthanized this dog prior to attempting adoption, it is quite likely that the same “keyboard warriors” criticizing the staff member for her self-protection would have been irate that the shelter euthanized a dog that “had done nothing wrong” had they chosen to euthanize him prior to attempting adoption.  

In animal welfare, you are often criticized no matter what call you make. The “darned if you do, darned if you don’t” scenarios in animal welfare do not stop at dog behavior; there are many others in our work. For example, if you are perceived as screening adopters too thoroughly, you are “making the process too hard” and driving potential adopters to breeders and online sites. But if you are perceived as screening adopters too little, you’re “just giving animals away to anyone,” “don’t care about the animals” and “only care about money.”  If you do home visits, you are “intrusive” and “judgmental,” but if you don’t, you “don’t care where the animals go.”  

At Midcoast Humane, public safety is always our priority and we have a great deal of collective experience to feel confident in our decisions. We do not want anyone to get hurt and will lean towards the side of safety when there is a question. However, our crystal balls are broken. We cannot see into the future; we can only make the best decisions possible with the information available to us at that moment. In upcoming articles, we will dive deeper into the adoption process and the other catch-22s that litter animal welfare like a minefield.

Jess Townsend is executive director of Midcoast Humane in Brunswick.

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