Animal House
Marin's Very Human Humane Society
Story and Photos by Tim Porter
Diane Allevato, Retiring Director of the Hume Society and her Australian Shepherds, Kit and Dale
(page 2 of 3)
These efforts make Marin a very good place to be a dog or a cat. Because most pets here carry bar-coded microchips that identify their owners, stray animals find their way home here more often than in other places. Last year, the Marin shelter returned 1,092 stray dogs, cats and other animals to their owners. Eighty-seven percent of lost dogs (four times the national average) and 25 percent of lost cats (eight times the national average!) were returned home.Since most local pets are neutered, the demand for animals is greater than the supply. The Humane Society closes the gap by retrieving animals from shelters that have high kill rates. In 2005, volunteers drove as far as Bakersfield and Red Bluff and returned with 1,254 animals that were eventually adopted. (Occasionally, the society will reach out even farther. This spring, for example, it took in four greyhounds rescued from a racetrack in Tijuana, Mexico. All were adopted.)
We’re not really in the business of selling used pets. We’re really in the business of selling a value system, a way of looking at our essential living creatures and realizing that they have rights and interests and we have responsibilities.”
“We might get a call from Mendocino,” says Allevato, “and they’ll say, ‘We have so many cats right now and we’re going to be in a position of having to euthanize healthy animals if we can’t place a dozen.’ The relationship is based on the fact that animals are not always in the right place at the right time to maximize their prospects for a new home.”

Not all animals that enter the Humane Society’s shelter on Bel Marin Keys Boulevard leave through the front door, though. The shelter’s “open-door” policy means it takes in any animal, regardless of condition. For some, it will be their last stop.
“If your door is open, you’re going to receive the animals that need you the most,” says Allevato. “That means we’re not going to turn our back on an animal because it bites children. It doesn’t mean that we’re going to necessarily be able to place that animal. But we’re going to care for it and if we can’t place it we’re going to give it a gentle passing.”
The issue of killing domestic animals has to be discussed in the larger context of overpopulation, says Allevato, which is why the Marin Humane Society has so strongly emphasized sterilization and reconnecting lost animals with their owners. Keeping animals out of a shelter in the first place is the best way to keep them alive. “One of the things that really troubled us was that people were talking ‘no kill, no kill, no kill,’ but it didn’t seem to make any sense to us for a couple reasons,” she says. “One, we had to all acknowledge that there were animals we were going to euthanize that had health and behavior problems that we couldn’t address. And, two, if they’re euthanizing animals 30 miles away for no reason other than they didn’t have room for them, why hold a party? It wasn’t Marin’s problem or San Francisco’s problem or any city’s problem or shelter’s problem. It was a regional problem and a national problem. We could do a whole lot more for animals and the people in our community by trying to be part of a more regional solution.”
Despite all efforts, the Humane Society in 2006 still had to make the difficult choice of euthanizing 454 dogs in and 566 cats (many of them feral). The other side of the equation, though, is the number of animals for whom the society found new homes. In 2006, the society adopted out 2,355 animals—1,037 dogs, 958 cats and 360 rabbits, guinea pigs, chickens and the occasional turtle.
Part of the Humane Society’s adoption success stems from the shelter’s staff knowing the type of animals Marin residents want. “They like smaller dogs. They like a little bit older dogs,” says Allevato. “You know, puppies are very appealing, but a two-year-old dog that’s sterilized and housebroken, that’s very nice, too.”
The shelter is often forced to choose between animals that have a strong chance of adoption and those that don’t. “We had to make a conscious decision—and this is one we talked about internally for a long, long time,” says Allevato. She hesitates. “I don’t know how to put this so it makes sense. If you have two Rottweilers with behavior and health problems . . . should you morally try to deal with those health and behavior problems or should you go 10, 15, 20 miles and rescue 10 animals that you can place tomorrow?”
In a typical week, more than two dozen dogs arrive at the shelter. Each gets a lengthy look-over from evaluators who examine the animal’s physical condition, temperament with people (is it possessive or shy?) and how it behaves with other animals (including a visit, if he’s available, from Elwood the Test Cat, a no-nonsense 11-year-old Tabby that’s backed off many an overly inquisitive puppy with a green-eyed stare and a swipe of his paw).
The purpose is to determine in what type of home the dog or cat would fit best. Is it a layabout or a leaper? Is it adoption-ready or does it need some rehab—maybe even a stretch in San Quentin (see sidebar, page 68)? The findings get posted on the animal’s cage for shelter browsers to read and, more importantly these days, on the Humane Society’s website.
The impact of the web has been “phenomenal,” says Allevato, with more than half of adoptions now initiating from a visit to the shelter’s website, which contains pictures—and some heart-tugging video—of dozens of dogs, cats and rabbits (the third-most popular pet in the United States; the society sees about 500 each year).
The Humane Society is about more than adopting pets. Half of its $5.5 million annual budget flows from a contract with Marin’s city and county governments to provide animal control services such as issuing dog licenses, rounding up strays and responding to complaints about barking or aggressive animals.
Last year, the Humane Society rescued 800 chickens from an egg factory in Gilroy where they lived four to a tiny cage. All were placed with local small ranchers.
“When we brought in those chickens,” says Allevato, “it was about providing greener pastures and a safe haven for those 800 hens, but it was also about educating our community about where eggs come from. We’re about educating our community so they can make wise consumer choices.”
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