Faithful readers will know that I think every grant writer—or any writer—is better off with a dog at their feet. Writing is a solitary activity and even for those of us who rarely experience writer’s block, there are times when one wants a bit of distraction, and watching a dog find the perfect position for slumber or worry a rawhide bone helps me refocus on writing assignments.
A dog will also patiently listen to me rant and rave about a particularly nauseating RFP section, then wag his tail and lick me. The same can’t be said of most HUD program officers. And dogs need and like to be walked—a great way to clear my mind from the fog of grant writing, particularly since I live very near Palisades Park along the Santa Monica bluffs, one of the most beautiful strolls in LA. A writer writing about having a dog is more or less writing a tale about a tail (I should apologize for this).
I just acquired a new puppy—or I should say a dog of an uncertain age, as Boogaloo Dude (“Boogie”*) comes to me as a rescue. He is a more-or-less Golden Retriever and has most of the attributes of a Golden, including the charming golden smile.
Boogie is purported to be around four, but, given his predilection to sleep about 22 hours a day, he might be a tad older. Boogie isn’t his original name—as one should change an abused dog’s name—and he was horribly mistreated. Now he seems happy to have become Pancho to my Cisco** and is content to receive an occasional ear scratch and belly rub. He sometimes literally runs into the ubiquitous Santa Monica pigeons on our morning walk, seemingly not comprehending what a bird is. The pigeons’ feathers are hardly ruffled and they strut away with a look of avian disdain. When Jake next comes to town, he’ll have to give Boogie a lesson in pigeon chasing, as he’s loved chasing pigeons since he was a little boy and probably still does so in Manhattan when he thinks no one is watching.
I did not get Boogie from Southern California Golden Retriever Rescue (SCGRR), the local Golden rescue nonprofit. Although I tried to adopt a dog from them, I kept getting rejected by the volunteers who decide which applicant gets a dog. Like most animal rescue nonprofits, SCGRR is volunteer-run and member-driven, so there is no hierarchy to facilitate appeals; when a volunteer decides you’re not good enough for a particular dog, you don’t get the dog, or possibly any dog.
Since Goldens are a popular breed, SCGRR has way more would-be adopters than available rescue dogs and is very selective. The organization supports itself in large part through application and adoption fees and, as such, is highly motivated to get as many people as possible to apply, even though the likelihood of getting a Golden through them is low. As an experienced grant writer, I knew this because I know how animal rescue outfits—and especially in-demand breed rescue organizations—are funded. But I played the game for a month anyway before giving up on SCGRR.
Boogie came not through a well-meaning and respectable nonprofit, but instead via The Loved Dog, a business run by celebrity dog trainer to the stars Tamar Geller. She’s Oprah’s dog trainer (this is LA and I’m not making this up). I met Tamar at a JDate event, mentioned that I was looking for a Golden, and learned she rescued one from SCGRR, who had earlier rescued the dog but then was going to euthanize him because he was supposedly aggressive—another example of the tyranny of volunteers that can emerge in membership nonprofits. Tamar scooped up the dog, who is all of 50 pounds and docile, and worked with him for a few months—until I appeared to provide what hopefully will be his permanent home.
The lesson of this story—other than it pays to persevere—is that not all nonprofits are necessarily “golden” and not all for-profits are necessarily avaricious. For example, a little-known fact is that PETA, self-portrayed as a paragon of animal welfare, is actually one of the largest operators of shelters thateuthanize animals. You may find this startling, but PETA has its reasons for euthanizing, which you can evaluate for yourself. As a guy who’s been working for or with nonprofits since the Nixon administration, however, not much in the nonprofit world surprises me; nor does much in the world in general, since even dogs in the U.S. eat better than many humans elsewhere, as the linked story about the adoption of some Sudanese “lost boys” indicates:
The next aisle over, Peter touched my shoulder. He was holding a can of Purina dog food. “Excuse me, Sara, but can you tell me what this is?” Behind him, the pet food was stacked practically floor to ceiling. “Um, that’s food for our dogs,” I answered, cringing at what that must sound like to a man who had spent the last eight years eating porridge. “Ah, I see,” Peter said, replacing the can on the shelf and appearing satisfied. He pushed his grocery cart a few more steps and then turned again to face me, looking quizzical. “Tell me,” he said, “what is the work of dogs in this country?”
But, as Sir Paul put it, “Venus and Mars are alright tonight.” Boogie is a happy dog, I’ve got a boon companion and it’s time to take him for his evening constitutional. And, then it will be cocktail hour and I’ll lift a glass or two to all the other abused puppies that are waiting for someone to watch over them.
* Boogaloo dude is a lyric in one of my favorite songs from the early 70s, Mott the Hoople’s “All the Young Dudes.” Boogie is also the name of Mickey Rourke’s character in the wonderful 1982 film, Diner. So I covered the 70s and 80s with this dog naming exercise.
** As a kid, I always liked Cisco, played by the inimitable Duncan Reynaldo, better than Zorro, but that’s just me. “Hey Cisco; Hey Pancho.”