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Hair by Kara at Planet Color, 10179 West Lincoln Highway, Frankfort, IL (2026)

08/08/2022

Just awful

📢 UPDATED POST ON OUR PAGE! Good news! 🌟
He’s coming home with me. 🖤

I write this with a broken heart.

I always give rescues and shelters the benefit of the doubt. I like to think that we’re the good guys, you know? This is Stuart. Stuart is 19 years old. He has been in a shelter in Illinois for 14 years. He has the paperwork to prove it. I was supposed to adopt Stuart today.

I saw him in a viral video. The shelter being demonized online with over 16k views for not releasing him, despite the many homes coming forward. So I called the rescue myself, cause I’m a walker not a talker.
I spoke to the woman who runs the shelter multiple times, none of those times did she seem too impressed or overly eager to be on the phone with me, despite me being understanding, a perfect candidate for Stuart, and willing and committed.

I continued to check in on him in the following weeks, and finally she agreed to meet me and consider, I was told I had to pass two other “volunteers” to adopt Stuart.

9am on a Saturday. That’s what she chose. So one of my best friends and I packed the van and got a hotel to be there bright and early, with a crate and a brand new bed in it in hopes we could bring Stuart home.

We drove through Chicago, tired eyed and stressed and we woke up at 5am and I was so nervous my hands were shaking. I covered up my tattoos, I did everything right. Nothing was going to ruin my chances.

We pulled in with a van full of donations that our rescue can’t use, as a donation gift to help Stuart’s other friends. After they asked us to unload our donations, we were then almost immediately sat down by a 82 year old volunteer who clearly tried to convince me to take another dog, and tell me Stuart was loved there, that was his “home” and he wasn’t going anywhere if she had a say. She then let us “meet” Stuart and I asked to take him on a small walk. I had tears in my eyes as I leaned down to pet him, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to take him home. I felt like a child who’s dream was crushed. Stuart had obvious arthritis, dirty eyes, horrible callus from the concrete floor and a dirty old collar that didn’t fit. He was panting, anxious to even be outside of his kennel.

I put Stuart inside and she told me he had to stay at the shelter “for his best interest.” I cried and pleaded for a special contract, and I never cry. I was apologizing and wiping my face with my sweater profusely hoping they would change their minds. I offered a personal large donation, anything I could think of to pay the price for his freedom. I looked around at the other dogs who were in the kennels and their intake paperwork. 5 years there, 7 years there, 8 years there, 10 years there. Dogs have been there since they were born and they’re now so neurotic they won’t leave the kennel without pulling to get back in, not even to enjoy a walk. I’ve never seen anything like the dogs in that building, so shut down that they won’t move when they go for a walk. This woman said “Stuart is happy here” and I felt myself boil over with frustration because she doesn’t know dog behavior. The pinned ears, the stressed panting, the whale eyes, Stuart is NOT happy. Stuart is a prisoner of ego. The “we love him” “he’s our family” while they all go home at night and he sleeps on a concrete floor. I started to argue with her about the lack of care that he received and was immidiarely met with sarcasm. From an 82 year old woman. She said “what does a young girl like you want with a dog like this?” I explained that I was 31 and only had seniors. They’re my choice. The perfect fit for me. That they deserved advocates and homes as well. The founder was willing to let me adopt Stuart, but because of the volunteer who “loves” him, she absolutely refused. Apparently she calls the shots. “If Marilyn says he’s not going - he’s not going anywhere.” She sadly decided Stuart’s fate.

All in all, I spent money out of pocket and my hopes up to cry publicly for 20 minutes, donate a van full of items without a thank you, and to get my hand slapped for thinking that I would have a chance at getting Stuart outside of concrete walls while being belittled when telling them about myself and my experience in the dog world. Quite literally laughed at.

I got to take him on a tiny adventure for 10 minutes, where I fed him ham and ice water, he loved it. I just kept choking back tears while telling him he was the best boy. He tried to get in the car and couldn’t, so I lifted him and regretfully, took him back to the shelter, as they were calling me asking me where he was.

They kept saying “if only we could find more like you” “if only you lived closer” “I wish I had a daughter like you” and I silently punched myself for keeping my mouth shut because Stuart and the other dogs are the definition of animal injustice, and oppression.

I’m not sure how to process this yet, I just keep remembering how he leaned into me when I told him goodbye. I’m ashamed to say that I’m in the rescue world tonight, because the more I find out, the more I’m devastated by people in the rescue world putting themselves before these precious fu***ng dogs. I’m taking a small break from social media while I recoup and work with ours, giving them what they deserve and finding them HOMES. I always take the high road, but sometimes the high road is showing people what you’re capable of, even to set an example. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m with the thousands that will make sure your story is heard.

You deserve better, Stuart. All of you there do.
I’m sorry.

Friends of strays in Princeton Illinois,
You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Photos from Hair by Kara at Planet Color's post

10/11/2020

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