Black Dogs-Not Wanted
The Black Dog Syndrome
My mom recently went to the police station to file a report for someone using my dad’s social security number for their 2012 tax return — what this gained the person, I have no idea. However, she told me the officer she spoke with randomly mentioned how most people don’t adopt black dogs as much as other dogs. As the owner of a black lab I was curious if there was any truth to this statement, or if it was just your typical redneck, Florida policeman talking nonsense. Then I learned about the strange phenomenon that has been labeled, black dog syndrome.
At first I thought, surely this isn’t a real thing. I couldn’t believe someone wouldn’t adopt a dog just because its fur was black. Then I thought, maybe it’s a sickness affecting dogs with black fur, and maybe people are reluctant to adopt them because the responsibility of caring for a sick dog is too great. Then, I saw a link on Facebook to a NBC news spot on the same subject. Much to my chagrin, black dog syndrome is a very real thing. And because of such, shelters euthanize black dogs more than others.
The report stated many people have the misconception black dogs are mean or dangerous. Fara Robinson from the Charlotte SPCA said, “They don’t photograph well unless you have the right lighting or photography equipment. So their pictures don’t stand out.” Are you serious? This is absurd! Before we got our black lab, Sassafras, I looked for dogs online, in the Classifieds — and not the online classifieds, the newspaper classifieds where all dogs, no matter what the color or breed photograph black and white — anywhere that advertised dogs for sale. As I type this, Sassy is laying on my feet at the end of the couch. Her legs are twitching and I imagine she’s dreaming of chasing a squirrel. I shake her hind leg a little to try and bring her out of it and then gently pet her head. Her eyes open slightly before closing again. How could anyone think this dog is mean or dangerous? Spend five seconds with her and you’ll be in love.
Growing up we always had yellow labs. Some we had longer than others. Bear, our first yellow lab, was actually almost white. He had fleas and was very hyper. After obedience school failed, my stay-at-home-mom decided two small children was all she could handle, and my dad gave Bear to a guy he worked with. Then we had, Tippy, a lab, beagle mix. He used to follow my brother to school. He too was given to a friend of my dad’s at work. Next came, Rocky, a rottweiler. One day, Rocky barreled out of the garage into the living room and latched his jaws onto my brother’s head. He was given away the next day to a guy that bread mini pythons and needed a guard dog. Finally, we got another yellow lab, Buddy. Buddy was the most awesome dog, ever. I remember going with my dad to pick him out. There were dozens of puppies and my brother and I sat in the backyard playing with them while I feed them tangerines. Buddy always slept at the foot of my or my brother’s bed. My mom said she’d see him go back and forth, like he didn’t want to play favorites. He loved to play and he loved to snuggle. He also, for some weird reason loved for my mom to vacuum his fur. He would drop at her feet until she kneeled down and vacuumed his belly with our old Rainbow vacuum cleaner, the water-filled kind. This did make it so we didn’t have to brush him as often. Buddy lived to be 14 years old. After that my parents adopted Kirby, another yellow lab.
I was mad they got a dog so soon after Buddy and in a way I swore off yellow labs. I loved the breed though, and when I finally had a place of my own with a yard I grew obsessed with looking up dogs in the Classifieds. I decided I wanted a black lab. I also wanted a little girl pup, since we’d always had boy dogs. I’d seen an ad in the paper from a breeder in Mooresville. Each week the ad was updated and the number of puppies available decreased. Finally, my then fiance caved. We called the breeder, she had four puppies left, three boys and only one girl.
We drove to Mooresville from Charlotte on one of the rare days it snowed, but I was determined. On the way there we tried to devise a plan on how to know if one of these puppies was meant to be ours. My husband told me that it would choose us. The breeder was a little strange. She confessed she was on pretty strong pain killers, but didn’t provide a reason. We ignored her and focused on the dogs (I think we both secretly wanted to adopt all four since this woman seemed kind of nuts). All four puppies were in a giant crate and when she unlatched it they ran wild. One immediately began chewing a shoe, another one peed in the corner and the third one chased its tail. The last one plopped down in my lap and pressed its head flat against my chest until its snout was almost touching my face. I asked her which one was the girl and she responded, “The one in your lap.” My husband looked at me and said, “I told you she would pick you.” We played with them all. They bit at us, one peed on my shoe, but the little girl pup kept coming back to me. That was it, she was our dog.
Sassafras Green-Stockton, she hyphenated her name, is now four years old. I tell her all the time she’s not allowed to have another birthday because the thought of her getting old is too much to bear. Yes she’s black, and yes that makes her hard to see at 3 a.m. when she wants to go outside and bark at nothing, and yes you have to use the flash if you want her face to show up in photos — although not outside, at night, unless you want her to look like a glowing-eyed demon — but none of these things made me not want to adopt her. You should adopt a dog you think is sweet, and soft, and wags their tail when they see you, and licks your hand to let you know they’re there, and lies at the foot of your bed to keep your feet warm, and makes you happy. None of these things are specific to white, black, yellow, orange, brown, spotted or brindle dogs. They’re specific to a good pet. They’re specific to a dog that just wants a good home and a loving owner.
In 2013, people in Charlotte, NC began the Black Dog Appreciation Day and Black Dog Walk. This year they’ll be hosting a community event May 3, 2014 at the President James K. Polk State Historic Site in Pineville, NC. Please visit their site to learn more, and if you’re thinking of adopting a dog, please consider adopting a black one. I know my life wouldn’t be the same without Sassy.
