FourPhases

This page is for anyone who works for animals, paid or volunteer. My thoughts follow the article. Found it posted on a list with signature but no credentials. Thanks to Valerie for telling me the author is affiliated with the American Humane Association. All comments are welcome.

The Four Phases
A time to reflect on who we are and what we do,
as we continue the long march forward.
by Douglas Fakkema

Those of us who work on behalf of and dedicate our lives to animals go through four phases in our career evolution. As we are unique, so are our individual stories, but we all go through a similar process, and if we survive that process, go on to understand that we have achieved what we wanted in the first place.

Phase One

Red hot and raring to go, we are out to change the world. We are high on life. We know we can make a difference, that our efforts on behalf of animals will ease their plight. We work what seems like 25-hour days yet are energized. Our enthusiasm overflows, our capacity for challenges is limitless. We eat, sleep and live in the cause for animals. Our friends don't understand our obsession and turn away or just fade away, and we let them for we meet new ones. Some of us though don't make new friends, we're too busy working for animals.

Some of us become loners with only our canine or feline companions to keep us from total isolation but we're content because we have a cause. In our zeal, we tend to affix simple solutions to complex problems - every animal should be sterilized or no animal should be euthanized. We're often late because we try to rescue animals from highways and streets. We think we understand the problem and we know we can fix it if only people would get out of our way.

Phase Two

Phase One enthusiasm has turned sour, the bubble bursts and we crash and burn. We see the same people coming into the shelter with yet another litter - they haven't heard our message. We continue to euthanize, there seems no end to it. Even our friends - those we still have left - don't understand us. We can't seem to reach anyone.

Animals are still abused and neglected, their plight seems unchanged despite all our efforts. We've lost the boundless energy that characterizes Phase One. We no longer wish to talk about work, don't even want to admit where we work. We're tired all the time. We go home from work, lock the doors, turn out the lights, turn off the answering machine and close the window blinds. We're too exhausted to cook so we scarf fast food, pizza, potato chips, chocolate.

Some of us buy useless objects we can't afford. Some of us turn to alcohol for it takes away our feelings of hopelessness. We ignore our families and even our pets get less attention than we know is right. We seem powerless to affect any of the changes that drove us to such ecstasies of dedication in Phase One. We have become horrified by the work we have to do. Even our dreams are filled with the horror. Every animal we take in, every animal we euthanize is yet another nail in our coffin of defeat. Somehow we're to blame for all our failure and it's destroying us. Raise the shields, Scotty, the Klingons are on our tail!

Our shield gets thicker and thicker. It blocks the pain and the sadness and makes our life somehow tolerable. We continue on because every now and then we get a spark of Phase One energy.

Phase Three

Our Phase Two depression has turned outward and we're mad as hell. Hopelessness turns to rage. We begin to hate people, any people and all people unless, like our co-workers, they dedicate their lives to animals the way we do. We even hate our co-workers if they dare question us - especially about euthanasia. It occurs to us, let's euthanize the owners, not the pets. Let's take everyone who abuses an animal or even surrenders an animal and euthanize them instead.

Our rage expands to our out-of-work life. That guy in front of us on the highway, the one who's in our way, euthanize him too. We rage at politicians, television, newspapers, our family. Everyone is a target for our anger, scorn and derision. We have lost our perspective and effectiveness.

We're unable to connect with life. Even the animals we come in contact with seem somehow distant and unreal. Anger is the only bridge to our humanness. It's the only thing that penetrates our shield.

Phase Four

Gradually, the depression of Phase Two and the anger of Phase Three become replaced with a new determination and understanding of what our mission really is. It is big picture time. We realize that we have been effective - locally and in some cases regionally and even nationally. So we haven't solved the problem - who could - but we have made a difference with dozens, even hundreds and sometimes thousands of animals. We have changed the way others around us view animals. We begin to see our proper place in our own community and we begin to see that we are most effective when we balance our work and out-of-work lives. We realize that work is not our whole world and that if we pay attention to our personal lives, we can be more effective at work. We understand that some days we work 14 hours and some days we knock it off after only eight. We take vacations and we enjoy our weekends. We come back refreshed and ready to take on daily challenges. We see that all people are not bad. We understand that ignorance is natural and in most cases curable. Yes, there are truly awful people who abuse and neglect animals but they are a minority. We don't hate them.

When we find them we do all we can to stop them from hurting animals. We recognize that the solutions are just as complex as the problems and bring a multitude of tools to the problem at hand and use them any way we can and we begin to see results - one small step at a time. We reconnect with the animals. Our shields come down. We understand that sadness and pain are a part of our job. We stop stuffing our feelings with drugs, food or isolation. We begin to understand that our feelings of anger, depression and sadness are best dealt with if we recognize them and allow them to wash over and past us. We recognize our incredible potential to help animals. We are changing the world.

I've noticed that some people get frozen in Phase One (the zealots), or Two (the zombies) or Three (the misanthropes). Some shift back and forth between Two and Three and even between Four and Three or Four and Two. Many leave animal work during Phase Two or Three, never to return. Some seem to move rapidly to Phase Four, while for others it takes years and years. Some never get a sense of peace to go along with our purpose, they work their entire lives on the frantic pink cloud of Phase One or stay depressed or angry. I know I've been in all four phases in 25 years in animal protection. Can the journey from Phase One to Four be speeded up? Can we avoid the pain, discomfort and agony that goes with the journey? I wish I knew.

My two

s: It's been about 20 years since I first became involved as a shelter volunteer. Spent most of my time up front on the phone or doing paperwork, and hearing excuses from idiots. I can remember only one semi-legitimate reason for a give-up - frail granny had moved in, huge dog had come close to knocking her over a few times. She was frightened. The man seemed sincerely upset about the situation, vet records were all in order, dog was well-behaved, highly adoptable. Don't think he spent even one night before he was sprung.

Each morning I'd visit with new inmates, scratch ears and get kisses, then on to worry about each one's fate. One I'll never forget as the miracle adoption was a basset and Australian shepherd cross. Can we say gawd-awful ugly? Worse, he showed no interest in anyone or anything. A week or so passed, counting down ... I just knew he'd soon be missing and where I'd find his paperwork. Could not believe it when I walked in to find him jumping all over a kid, dad signing a check.

There are other good stories, but there will never be enough to make up for the losses. I'd had my fill of people in general earlier while working at a bank. Did I want to euthanize the dumpers and abusers then (and now) as mentioned above? No, that'd be too good for them. I'd still like to get away with shooting one a day. Better yet, if equal-time torture could be step one. Plus, I'm still disgusted with the vet I worked for, and truly hope he gets a hefty taste of what he dished out. Would have loved to see him publicly smeared and would have done it if anyone else had been willing to back me up. I couldn't afford to quit, but I couldn't cooperate/live with the situation either.

Plenty more to that story, and the before and after, most of which is not particularly pleasant, especially, "Why don't you get rid of the dog if it's so hard to find someplace decent to live?"

"Why don't you get rid of your kid?" shut that up pretty fast. Fortunately, Miss Liberty, all I had left at one time, was not terribly fussy about decor. In any case, we did what we could, including Lib starting her own column and making "speaking" appearances. Eventually we hit the road again and bounced all over before landing in a somewhat permanent location. I am fortunate to be able to volunteer again, this time at a no-kill shelter. Still hear the incredibly stupid drivel but avoid dealing with it directly for my blood pressure's sake. Most time is spent on here trying to educate and encourage others to participate. Every now and then something happens to make me think there is some hope left, so here I'll stay. The bonus ... whenever in need of a puppy fix, I can go in and squeeze all I want :)

Please see various critter links (below) for important info and ideas for ways to help. Outside links are included on all pages.

Saving just one animal won't change the world but, surely, one animal's world will change.

From Sue: Not having been involved in the biz, except as an adoptive mommy, I cannot comment on what it's like from that side of the fence. However, I had a thought on encouraging adoption.

I went into the shelter
to find myself a pet.
But what I didn't realize
was just what I would get.

I saw there many animals
of different shape and size.
And as I looked I noticed
That tears came to my eyes.

I couldn't take all with me.
I didn't have the space.
Room for one was all I had
And quickly wiped my face.

Taking in those longing looks
I pained to see such yearning.
Every face with eager eyes
Increased my depth of learning.

Here were souls in furry coats.
And every one deserving
Of happy, warm and healthy homes.
Lives well worth preserving.

But to the one beside me
Who then became my friend,
I give the best that I can give
And will until the end.

Please help me, if you're able
And adopt a homeless waif.
Find a spot, within your home
Where it's comfortable and safe.

Be purebred or of mixed breed
Whichever you can take,
I'm sure the one that lives with you
A difference s/he will make.

One life that won't be wasted.
One fewer soul dismissed.
And when your pet looks up at you
Consider yourself kissed.

You'll find you won't regret it.
So much more you'll get, than give.
Devotion, adoration, trust
and spirit glad to live.

The spirit of an animal
That but for you, might perish.
A soul of charm and innocence
A life for you to cherish.

The animals' voices are silent. But their cries can be heard, if you care enough to listen. ~ Gerry Brehm

Your thoughts, comments, rants/vents and suggestions are welcome to be included here: MarthaJones@aol.com or LibbyK9@aol.com. Use your own name and organization (link too) or a pen name if ID would cause a problem. I'm the only one who has to know who you are. Please use a clearly defined subject line on all mail. Due to virus threats and way too much junk, I delete unknowns.

Watch for additions as page makes the rounds. It's a good one for understanding anyone involved with animal welfare too.