Author: Bernice Clifford
When dogs enter the shelter system, they are thrust into an unfamiliar environment where their ability to make decisions for themselves disappears. Often, shelters prioritize immediate vetting, which, while necessary for the animals’ health, can signal to certain dogs that this is not a safe place. They may then be confined to a kennel—sometimes unable to escape their own waste. In some shelters, dogs remain untouched by human hands for days.
Despite good intentions, the shelter system often assigns labels to dogs based on unvalidated tests or snap judgments under stressful conditions. These labels can misrepresent a dog’s behavior in the “real world,” or based on what an individual human believes they see, potentially leading to life-altering consequences. For example, dogs labeled as “aggressive” to people or dogs may face euthanasia in one shelter or long-term isolation and suffering in another, even when the labels are inaccurate.
One unforgettable story that I participated in is about a dog named Butchy, a large, red-and-white dog with worn-out elbows and a rough exterior, who stayed at the shelter for years. Repeatedly labeled as “aggressive” toward other dogs, Butchy was overlooked many times by me and I am sure others. Then one day, his life changed.
When I visited the shelter and saw Butchy being walked by the trainer, I went straight to him, just like I always did. I found out he had ringworm and couldn’t be handled without protective gear. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him there any longer. I loaded his old, smelly body into the car and called ahead to have my office cleared of other dogs. The poor boy was covered in ringworm spots and needed to be bathed, given oral medication, and treated with cream. I had a plan to introduce him to other dogs once he was healthy enough. But sometimes plans change. A previous adopter heard about Butchy and wanted to meet him. They had a house full of dogs—six at the time, I believe.
I invited the adopters to meet Butchy, and, as expected, they fell in love with him. Since he was healing well, I introduced him to my personal dogs for a quick meeting. He was a perfect gentleman. With that success, Butchy and I headed to the adopters’ home to introduce him to their dogs.
We introduced the dogs to Butch one at a time. The dogs varied significantly in size, but Butch did incredibly well with each of them. There was one more dog left to meet— a good-sized girl they referred to as a German Shepherd mix. I was told she doesn’t take well to new dogs but once she is ok it’s never a problem again.
The years of being told – he is not good with dogs lingered in the back of my head while they let their girl come out into the yard. I may have held my breath while she barked and growled heading straight for him. He turned his body away and her dad sprayed the hose in her direction slowing her down enough for her to take a breath.
When she reached him, I am sure she said bad words through her growling and posturing but butch made it clear he wanted no trouble. When she was done she walked away.
Butchy found his home that day with a family and a pack of dogs where he thrived, earning the nickname “The Gentle Giant.” He got a name change to Hank and a fresh non-judgmental start. His story humbled me and to this day serves as a powerful reminder: sometimes our human desire to protect can unintentionally become an obstacle to the dogs showing us who they are. For dogs like Butchy, asking more questions, challenging assumptions, and looking at the situation with fresh eyes can reveal the truth and, ultimately, save lives.
So please remember to get out of their way!
