we need to change the narrative.​​​

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Rehoming or surrendering a pet is a highly stigmatized, misunderstood, and judged loss. There is a pervasive stereotype in our culture that only “terrible” people give up pets. It is often viewed as a “choice” that someone “brought on themselves.” This is a REALLY dangerous place to be. We need to shift the narrative to bring more compassion and greater understanding around rehoming. There are systemic barriers and individual circumstances much larger than any individual choice.

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Don’t get me wrong - I understand why people are angry and express their frustration. They are experiencing a human reaction, driven by their love for animals and the strong emotional response they feel upon learning that an animal is now homeless. Standing up for the animal that has no voice is an act of compassion. And I truly believe they have nothing but good intentions.

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But the thing is, we rarely know the full context behind someone’s decision. We hear a brief snippet of someone’s deeply complex story and fill in the blanks with assumptions.

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Reality is such that you can love your pet and still fall victim to life’s circumstances. You can love your pet and be unable to live safely with them. Common barriers to families staying intact include a lack of pet-friendly housing, a pet posing a safety risk, financial inability to care for a pet, the owner's health, inability to afford training for behavioral issues, an environmental mismatch, lack of a support system to fall back on, etc. The list goes on. And on. And on.

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Losing a beloved pet can be one of the most significant traumas in someone’s life. It is important to consider the human consequences of shaming someone who is already broken. There is a vulnerable person behind a vague backstory who may be going through the worst time of their life. And on top of that, losing their beloved companion, the emotional support that held their life together. And that is heartbreaking.

 

We cannot responsibly judge someone’s life circumstances based on our own.  When we have resources and support to fall back on, it’s hard to imagine a reality without these safety nets. This cycle of judgment is  unintentionally worsening the situation by scaring people away from asking for help, and this puts both pets and people at greater risk.

 

We need to start caring about people, too. Humans are vulnerable beings, and the fear of being bullied, criticized, or misunderstood can prevent people from asking for help. It is humbling to ask for help on public platforms – to bravely share one’s circumstances that are likely already encasing them in a bubble of shame. Yet when they do, they often experience public shaming for the mere act of rehoming a pet.

 

As an Intake Specialist at a municipal shelter, when someone reaches out for help because they believe they are unable to keep their pet, we have a conversation that often leads them to learning about resources that may help them keep their pet. We all share a goal of keeping families intact, if that is what they want. But if they are afraid to make the call, they will never get that information, and loving families are broken up. This helps no one.

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I’m not naive enough to believe that surrendering a pet is a traumatic experience for everyone. The circumstances that lead to surrendering a pet are endless, and some feel more morally acceptable than others. I’m not denying that there are people out there who do awful things to animals — but unless we know the whole story, it’s best to exercise caution with our words. Until you have witnessed someone walking out of the shelter with an empty pet carrier or a dogless leash, crying so hard they can barely breathe, I beg you to withhold judgment.