 | |  | |  | |  | |  |
| Riley - Euthanized |
| Petey - Adopted |
| Bailey - Claimed by owner |
| Nelly - Adopted |
| STREET dogs |
Credit: Merrell Publishers
Publishing Date: Sept. 18, 2006
From The Introduction
One Christmas a few years back, my husband, Jesse, and I were in charge of organizing a holiday staff
party. We encouraged the guests to bring gifts (toys, food, and blankets) for homeless animals, which
were to be donated to local animal shelters. I was to play Santa and deliver the goods. One stop I made
was to a Rhode Island city shelter. After unloading my boxes of donations, I forced myself to walk
through the rows of kennels, wide-eyed and deafened by the plaintive barking of more than twenty dogs.
I kept being drawn back to a sweet little female pit bull in one of the last cages. When I inquired about
her, I was told that she, along with the male beside her, was to be “put down” in a day or two. Their
time was up, and no one had shown interest in them. The next day, I coerced a friend down to the
shelter, and we adopted both dogs. Jesse and I kept the male, and our friend kept the little female.We
thought she was still pudgy from puppyhood, but actually she was pregnant. She delivered nine healthy
puppies. We adopted the scrawny runt of her litter, which gave us a total of three dogs in our urban
third-story apartment. My husband made me promise to stay away from animal shelters. The following
year, I began photographing and writing, pro bono, for a new regional monthly called The Animal Print.
One of my first assignments was to interview Katenna Jones, a Brown University graduate student and
the director of Brown’s Canine Behavior Program, which had been funded by a private grant. The aim of
the program was to teach volunteers how to train dogs who were in animal shelters, and determine
whether such training affected the adoption and retention rate of those animals. Ms. Jones and her
student participants found that there was a strong trend indicating that animals who were trained and
socialized and who received regular exercise were adopted more quickly and retained longer in their new
homes than animals who received no interaction or training.
After writing the piece, I suddenly felt very tied to the program. I decided to volunteer under Ms. Jones’
s watch. It was only one hour a week at first, and I took comfort in her strength and dedication. She
was empathetic when I became emotional, but she always directed me back to the work. Jones gave
every dog a name, taught them new tricks as well as trust, knew their habits and preferences, and then
pleaded for their lives to be spared when all of the kennels became full. The first time that a dog I had
been working with was euthanized, it was devastating. Unfortunately, it is an inevitability that I have
now had to face dozens of times. Like most shelter workers, I have found a private way to mourn.
All of the animals we worked with had been abandoned or lost by their owners. They were rarely
neutered or even wearing identification. Very few were ever reunited with their owners. Some dogs had
been beaten or severely neglected. Others had been handed over simply because it was no longer
convenient for their owners to keep them. Ms. Jones taught us to do temperament evaluations, to
estimate age, and to teach basic obedience. Most dogs love to learn, to have a “job,” and I am always
amazed at how proud dogs seem after learning a new trick.
Eventually, Ms. Jones’s grant ran out, and she accepted a full-time position at a different shelter, where
she could continue her work. Her student volunteers either graduated or moved on, leaving me and one
or two other people. I felt I had no choice but to stay. As a photographer, I was soon asked to begin
taking photos of all the dogs for records and for internet adoption sites. As my files grew, I realized that
many of the dogs whose pictures I had in my archives never made it out alive. Despite our efforts, many
dogs had to be euthanized simply to make room for the dozens more brought in every week by Animal
Control. I found that no matter what, I couldn’t bring myself to delete their photographs, which in some
cases were the only record of their existence. A few months later, I decided to begin creating true
portraits of these dogs.
From day one I conceived of this project’s becoming a book, a body of work that would help document
and memorialize some of the beautiful, intelligent animals I meet in shelters. A group of fifty or so
would represent the millions who die each year in animal shelters nationwide. I was never interested in
making images of desperate dogs behind bars. While photographs of that nature are valid as a means of
illuminating the situation, I feel they evoke little more than pity in the viewer. I wanted to strip away
every environmental element and create dignified individual portraits that presented each dog’s unique
personality. By singling them out and temporarily raising them above their statistical status, the issue
is made much more personal. When people view these images, they are often locking eyes with a
captivating being who has been cast aside, abused, or left behind.
To me, these are portraits in the simplest and truest form. I had to do very little. My subjects were
already beautiful, animated, and ready for their close-ups.
Merrell Publishers
Publishing Date: Sept. 18, 2006
From The Introduction
One Christmas a few years back, my husband, Jesse, and I were in charge of organizing a holiday staff
party. We encouraged the guests to bring gifts (toys, food, and blankets) for homeless animals, which
were to be donated to local animal shelters. I was to play Santa and deliver the goods. One stop I made
was to a Rhode Island city shelter. After unloading my boxes of donations, I forced myself to walk
through the rows of kennels, wide-eyed and deafened by the plaintive barking of more than twenty dogs.
I kept being drawn back to a sweet little female pit bull in one of the last cages. When I inquired about
her, I was told that she, along with the male beside her, was to be “put down” in a day or two. Their
time was up, and no one had shown interest in them. The next day, I coerced a friend down to the
shelter, and we adopted both dogs. Jesse and I kept the male, and our friend kept the little female.We
thought she was still pudgy from puppyhood, but actually she was pregnant. She delivered nine healthy
puppies. We adopted the scrawny runt of her litter, which gave us a total of three dogs in our urban
third-story apartment. My husband made me promise to stay away from animal shelters. The following
year, I began photographing and writing, pro bono, for a new regional monthly called The Animal Print.
One of my first assignments was to interview Katenna Jones, a Brown University graduate student and
the director of Brown’s Canine Behavior Program, which had been funded by a private grant. The aim of
the program was to teach volunteers how to train dogs who were in animal shelters, and determine
whether such training affected the adoption and retention rate of those animals. Ms. Jones and her
student participants found that there was a strong trend indicating that animals who were trained and
socialized and who received regular exercise were adopted more quickly and retained longer in their new
homes than animals who received no interaction or training.
After writing the piece, I suddenly felt very tied to the program. I decided to volunteer under Ms. Jones’
s watch. It was only one hour a week at first, and I took comfort in her strength and dedication. She
was empathetic when I became emotional, but she always directed me back to the work. Jones gave
every dog a name, taught them new tricks as well as trust, knew their habits and preferences, and then
pleaded for their lives to be spared when all of the kennels became full. The first time that a dog I had
been working with was euthanized, it was devastating. Unfortunately, it is an inevitability that I have
now had to face dozens of times. Like most shelter workers, I have found a private way to mourn.
All of the animals we worked with had been abandoned or lost by their owners. They were rarely
neutered or even wearing identification. Very few were ever reunited with their owners. Some dogs had
been beaten or severely neglected. Others had been handed over simply because it was no longer
convenient for their owners to keep them. Ms. Jones taught us to do temperament evaluations, to
estimate age, and to teach basic obedience. Most dogs love to learn, to have a “job,” and I am always
amazed at how proud dogs seem after learning a new trick.
Eventually, Ms. Jones’s grant ran out, and she accepted a full-time position at a different shelter, where
she could continue her work. Her student volunteers either graduated or moved on, leaving me and one
or two other people. I felt I had no choice but to stay. As a photographer, I was soon asked to begin
taking photos of all the dogs for records and for internet adoption sites. As my files grew, I realized that
many of the dogs whose pictures I had in my archives never made it out alive. Despite our efforts, many
dogs had to be euthanized simply to make room for the dozens more brought in every week by Animal
Control. I found that no matter what, I couldn’t bring myself to delete their photographs, which in some
cases were the only record of their existence. A few months later, I decided to begin creating true
portraits of these dogs.
From day one I conceived of this project’s becoming a book, a body of work that would help document
and memorialize some of the beautiful, intelligent animals I meet in shelters. A group of fifty or so
would represent the millions who die each year in animal shelters nationwide. I was never interested in
making images of desperate dogs behind bars. While photographs of that nature are valid as a means of
illuminating the situation, I feel they evoke little more than pity in the viewer. I wanted to strip away
every environmental element and create dignified individual portraits that presented each dog’s unique
personality. By singling them out and temporarily raising them above their statistical status, the issue
is made much more personal. When people view these images, they are often locking eyes with a
captivating being who has been cast aside, abused, or left behind.
To me, these are portraits in the simplest and truest form. I had to do very little. My subjects were
already beautiful, animated, and ready for their close-ups.
Merrell Publishers
If only people could display the dignity of animals? This was my first thought as I
turned the pages of this beautiful book. It took some time for me to read the
text, because the photographs and their captions are so engaging. Besides, this
book proves the cliché that "a picture is worth a thousand words."
Traer Scott is a professional photographer, so it's no surprise to observe the
quality of both the portraiture and candid pictures contained in this book.
However, I have the feeling her subjects made her efforts a true labor of love.
turned the pages of this beautiful book. It took some time for me to read the
text, because the photographs and their captions are so engaging. Besides, this
book proves the cliché that "a picture is worth a thousand words."
Traer Scott is a professional photographer, so it's no surprise to observe the
quality of both the portraiture and candid pictures contained in this book.
However, I have the feeling her subjects made her efforts a true labor of love.
Smiley, page 42
"Named for his tendency to
bare his teeth in a 'smile'
when happy or excited,
Smiley was found wounded
in a ditch by rescuer Mary
Eldergill in Salinas, Puerto
Rico. He had been hit by a
car and his front leg was
badly broken in multipe
places, so needed to be
amputated. After his
recovery, Smiley was sent to
Tri-Boro Animal Welfare in
New Jersey, where he was
adopted within a few weeks."
bare his teeth in a 'smile'
when happy or excited,
Smiley was found wounded
in a ditch by rescuer Mary
Eldergill in Salinas, Puerto
Rico. He had been hit by a
car and his front leg was
badly broken in multipe
places, so needed to be
amputated. After his
recovery, Smiley was sent to
Tri-Boro Animal Welfare in
New Jersey, where he was
adopted within a few weeks."
| About the Cover Photo |
| Canela, page 33 |
"Rescuers saw a posting by a
woman desperate to get Canela
("cinnamon" in Spanish) and her
newborn pups out of a store
parking lot in Puerto Rico, where
they had been living. The owner
of the store had told the
concerned woman that she had
one week to remove the dogs or
else he would poison them all.
Canela and her litter were taken
to a kennel. The puppies were
eventually flown to the U.S. and
adopted out. Canela was taken
to St. Hubert's Animal Welfare
in New Jersey.
woman desperate to get Canela
("cinnamon" in Spanish) and her
newborn pups out of a store
parking lot in Puerto Rico, where
they had been living. The owner
of the store had told the
concerned woman that she had
one week to remove the dogs or
else he would poison them all.
Canela and her litter were taken
to a kennel. The puppies were
eventually flown to the U.S. and
adopted out. Canela was taken
to St. Hubert's Animal Welfare
in New Jersey.
From Page 43
"The most amazing part of
rescuing dogs off the streets
is the ability they have to
love, and the devotion that
they possess even when they
are suffering. They still have
love and gentleness in their
eyes. When I go up to the
rescuing dogs off the streets
is the ability they have to
love, and the devotion that
they possess even when they
are suffering. They still have
love and gentleness in their
eyes. When I go up to the
States and find a home for one of the dogs who came to us half-dead, I have this
wonderful felling of complete connection, and in my soul I know that this is what I am
meant to do." ~ Jennifer Holmes, San Felipe Animal Rescue, Mexico
wonderful felling of complete connection, and in my soul I know that this is what I am
meant to do." ~ Jennifer Holmes, San Felipe Animal Rescue, Mexico
Canines-and-Felines.com Review of Street Dogs
I like the black and white photography for its
ability to convey beauty and realism without
distraction. One can admire the images even
while knowing these proud animals are living
their lives in misery and despair.
As you go through this book, you'll find a favorite.
Trust me, you won't be able to help it. Then, go to
the back of the book where you'll find your
favorite's portrait and bio. Some of these stories
end well, and some don't. My favorite didn't
make it, but I hope your's will.
ability to convey beauty and realism without
distraction. One can admire the images even
while knowing these proud animals are living
their lives in misery and despair.
As you go through this book, you'll find a favorite.
Trust me, you won't be able to help it. Then, go to
the back of the book where you'll find your
favorite's portrait and bio. Some of these stories
end well, and some don't. My favorite didn't
make it, but I hope your's will.
| ~ Barry M. Baker Canines-and-Felines.com |
 | |  | |  | |  | |  |
| Copyright 2008 © Barry M. Baker, Canines-and-Felines.com |
From Shelter Dogs by Traer Scott
Traer's
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