The middleman between kill shelters and suburban no-kill shelters

Trembling in the back of a metal cage, an almost bald purebred wire-haired terrier holds the center of attention at a downstate animal pound.

Dumped by its owners along Interstate 57, the dog, infected with a skin disease, stares blankly with its black, deep-set eyes at the employees of Franklin County Animal Control in Benton, 100 miles southeast of St. Louis.

"What is wrong with people?" snaps pound director Jarrett Broy, who found the dog wandering along the bustling highway.

"That wasn't right to do that dog that way."

Pets in Peril A three-part series looking at the fate facing animals at high-kill shelters downstate and how suburban residents help run a rescue pipeline. Stories Part 3 | Adopted pets reach end of harrowing journey, settle into suburban homes [04/01/2008] Part 2 | A packed cargo van takes pets to hope in the suburbs [03/31/2008]Part 1 | Life and death [03/30/2008] Inferno destroys pound just hours before pets' departure [03/30/2008]How you can help [03/30/2008] Video Overview Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Now that the terrier has made it to the pound, though, he'll likely end up running around a backyard in the suburbs of Chicago, like the other chosen few.Just before euthanasia day, the pound favorite -- Hobbs, a 73-pound ball of black and white fur -- is to escape on a rescue transport, heading to the suburbs. So is Cookie, a sweet-natured, caramel-colored dachshund who was found wandering a few days ago. Lizzie, a shy black Labrador mix, and her bat-eared puppy, who were both chained up without food by a previous owner, are also to be given a reprieve. Even six 3-month-old golden retrievers, as cute as they are, would have been put down, but they, too, are on their way to new homes.And then there's Pumpkin, an overtly friendly, well-groomed, silky-haired cat -- one of the only cats to make it out of the pound this week.In times past, all would have joined the nearly 75,000 cats and dogs euthanized in Illinois pounds last year.Instead, they'll be off to new homes in suburbs including Des Plaines, Huntley and Elk Grove Village.These animals owe their lives to Illinois Animal Rescue, an all-volunteer transport group that serves as the middleman between downstate high-kill shelters and no-kill shelters mainly in the Chicago suburbs.Since the group was incorporated last year, it has taken about 6,000 dogs and cats out of the pounds."It's very hard since I work full time," says Sally Matay of Joliet, the group's president. "My boyfriend is always mad at me, but once rescue is in your blood, you can't turn your back when you see their little faces."A day at the poundBefore noon at the Franklin County pound, 14 kittens, a black Labrador with her three puppies, a Chihuahua and the wire-haired terrier arrive -- either dumped at a roadside or dropped off by an owner who didn't want them anymore."That is every day," Broy says. "Kittens, puppies, cats and dogs. Every day."As pound director, it's Broy's job to decide who lives and who dies when the pound is full. He says that job became a lot easier when Dottie Darr came along."I tell you, she is a godsend," Broy says of Darr, who is busy marking down who'll get on the transport the next morning when she's shipping out about 30 animals.Two years ago, Darr, who owns her own home-based hair replacement company in downstate Benton, stopped by the pound to pick out a new cat after hers died.Instead, she cleaned the cat cages, returning often until she asked if she could volunteer every day, just to make sure the cages were cleaned to her satisfaction.That led Broy to hire her to clean the cages for 20 hours a week at minimum wage.After she saw the scores of perfectly normal dogs and cats euthanized each week, she hooked up with Illinois Animal Rescue and began coordinating transports twice a week. She pays for gas that sometimes costs $150 a trip.When the pound is full and transports aren't running, Darr whisks away as many of the condemned as she can."Here, kitty, kitty," Darr calls as she stands out in her roughly 1-acre back lot buttressing a stand of trees, and that brings out 40 sickly cats and kittens. Last summer, she had double that, setting up tents to care for them all outside the corner-lot, ranch-style home she shares with her husband and four kids.She's also got three barely-weaned Australian shepherd puppies, a shepherd-mix and a pregnant dog, hoping to get them on a future transport.But Darr can't save them all.Deciding who diesAs a general rule, it's the sick ones who go first to the euthanasia shed. Then it's based on temperament.Hobbs, who is sick with heartworm, a disease where parasitic worms infest the heart and ultimately cause congestive heart failure, has been a candidate for euthanasia for weeks, but pound workers passed him over because he's so well-liked.A stray, Hobbs was captured after he galloped up to an animal control officer before jumping in the passenger's side of the car, riding happily the whole way to the pound."I wouldn't let them put him down," Darr says. "He's my big wild baby."Two times a week, a van picks up between 10 and 30 animals from Franklin County and others from nearby Jefferson and Perry counties for the drive north.Illinois Animal Rescue receives e-mails with pictures and descriptions from about 30 downstate shelters. Sally Matay e-mails that information to about 25 no-kill shelters, whose workers decide what animals they will take. Matay is able to rescue about a quarter of the animals.Suburban shelters promise none of the transferees will be put down as long as they are healthy and well-adjusted.While Hobbs, Cookie, Lizzie, Pumpkin and the puppies have been selected for transport, others stay behind. Pound workers hope there's pen space to keep them alive until a suburban shelter picks them.Broy says the pipeline has cut the number euthanized at the pound from more than 4,000 a year to about 1,200.Just 25 years ago, suburban shelters could find well-adjusted, healthy animals to adopt out with a short trip to Chicago, says David Dinger, acting president of the Anti-Cruelty Society in Chicago.A strong spay and neuter program, public awareness and a highly organized shelter network have cut the number of unwanted pets to the point where most of the 14,000 animals euthanized annually in the city are behaviorally or physically not adoptable, Dinger says.But pounds in other parts of the state lack money and support, creating an overflow supply of perfectly fit, unwanted animals looking for homes that can be matched with a suburban demand for adoptable pets.More dogs savedKittens, no matter their hue, are always popular, but cats don't do as well, Darr says.For instance, of the almost 50 animals from local counties scheduled for transport, Pumpkin is one of five cats going tomorrow.Rarely do suburban shelters want adult cats, which are hard to place, Darr says. Black ones have virtually no hope. But Pumpkin, with her creamy yellow hair and loving disposition, won herself a spot on the transport.Dogs fare better, but again looks matter.Black dogs with no definitive features like Lizzie and her yet-to-be-named puppy are rarely picked.Lizzie, who is almost bald and infected with mange, a deadly-but-curable skin disease caused by mites, is a clear candidate for euthanasia. Her eye infection and protruding ribs don't help matters, either.Until a neighbor called animal control -- she was tied up without food -- her puppies were dying one by one.Darr is determined to save her. She's gotten Lizzie on the transport, pushing the dog's sweet nature, motherhood status and dire state to persuade Animal House in Huntley to take her.With about 30 animals departing, Broy won't have to make any hard decisions this week. A few weeks earlier, with the pound full, Broy euthanized three German shepherds, all given up by the same owner.One by one, he led the shepherds to a one-story, 24-by-24-foot plywood shed in the back. He felt they had the least chance of being picked for a transport."They weren't as friendly," Broy says. "They never got a chance to be puppies. They were born and kept outside. They were pretty dogs #8230; could've been someone's pet."As Darr leaves for the day, she takes home the wire-haired terrier found on I-57 and a Chihuahua named PeeWee for whom there's no cage space.Still, she wishes she could do more. "I have 25 dogs going out tomorrow, but I wish we could move more cats."The pet problembull; A 1997 study of 1,000 U.S. shelters found that they euthanized 2.7 million animals -- 64% of all handled. bull; Only 15% of the dogs and 2% of the cats were reunited with their owners.bull; In Illinois last year, state-licensed animal control facilities euthanized 32,695 dogs and 41,837 cats.bull; One of the highest euthanasia rates was in Franklin County, one animal for every 35 people, compared to DuPage County, where it's one animal for every 417 people.bull; At all shelters, some animals must be put down due to factors such as age, disease and temperament.Sources: National Council on Pet Population Study and Policy, Illinois Department of Agriculture statistics 512472Franklin County Animal Control worker Dottie Darr cuddles newly arrived PeeWee. He was given up by his owner as she would not be able to care for him.Laura Stoecker | Staff Photographer 512288Franklin County Animal Control Director Jarrett Broy recalls the different dogs that contributed collars to this pile in the euthanasia shed kept as a tribute to animals put down due to space constraints.Laura Stoecker | Staff Photographer 512318Sickly cats that would have been put down at Franklin County Animal Control in Benton, Ill., find a temporary home at shelter worker Dottie Darr's house.Laura Stoecker | Staff Photographer