Everyone has heard the phrase “Adopt, don’t shop.” It is very emotionally charged and is often weaponized against anyone who doesn’t get an animal from a shelter. It’s a stance that I understand, and I empathize with the people who believe it—I used to believe it myself. But my experiences with adopting from a shelter have permanently changed my stance.
Rescuing a dog was not a viable option for me. I tried—I visited shelters and rescues, I scoured page after page on Petfinder, I sent in countless applications, I did meet-and-greets with adoptable dogs, and was even approved to adopt some. But I couldn’t do it.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I had a rescue cat before Indie that I loved more than anything or anyone else in the whole world (and yes, I know that sounds hyperbolic, but it’s the truth). She was my whole world. And she didn’t have it easy for so many reasons that were out of my control.
Before we adopted her, Electra was a stray who suffered a pretty serious back injury that caused chronic pain and mobility issues for the first half of her life with us. She couldn’t be picked up normally, we tried not to carry her but sometimes it was necessary, and she had to be carried with her back completely straight with her feet dangling down. It was the only position that didn’t cause her pain.
She had chronic eye issues that often required medication and caused her to have the biggest, crustiest eye boogers I have ever seen on any animal. She had breathing problems that made her snore so loudly that I could hear her from another room.
When we got her, she was recently spayed and had an upper respiratory infection, and she was so mean. She bit and scratched and generally wanted nothing to do with us for months at first. My parents tried to talk me into giving her back to the shelter but I refused. I stuck it out and she became the best companion that anyone could ask for.
But that didn’t erase the fact that she ate as if she would never get another meal again, stole food from our other cat, and attacked if she thought her food would be taken. It didn’t erase the fact that she couldn’t stand being inside for the first couple of years or that it took her the better part of a decade to stop biting and scratching any time she got annoyed.
It took nearly a decade together for her to settle into the wonderful personality she had under all of the rough edges. She was truly an extraordinary cat, but when I look back on it, I see so many years that I missed because she was a stray or because she was still recovering from her time as a stray. One year on the streets affected her temperament for a decade.
By the last few years of her life, Electra’s health became my main source of anxiety. I couldn’t sleep unless I could hear her breathing. After her chronic pancreatitis diagnosis, I panicked every time she threw up.
I knew her so well, I could tell what she was going to do next based on the stretch she did when she stood up. I knew every little thing a person could know about a cat. And that’s how I found her cancer.
When she was about thirteen years old (we never really knew how old she was), Electra was diagnosed with a mast cell tumor that had spread cancerous cells into her lymphatic system. My family spent tens of thousands of dollars on diagnostics, tumor resections and facial reconstruction, chemotherapy, and veterinary oncologist appointments until she was cancer free (this is your sign to get pet insurance!!).
The second time she was diagnosed with cancer, we again spent thousands and got her specialized care, but the new cancer was too aggressive to actually do anything other than palliative care.
Losing her was the worst thing that has ever happened to me and I am still living with the aftermath.
My experience with her has shaped the way that I think about pet ownership; I had to watch her suffer in so many ways throughout her life and every single one of those things was out of my control. It made me realize how important it is to prioritize genetics to make sure our pets can live a long and comfortable life. It made me realize that temperament is incredibly important for making sure our animals can handle the stressful situations they have to endure. And it made me grieve for the time I lost while she was still alive.
Electra was not the first or last rescue that I lost, but she was the most painful to lose. Smokey, Lex, Luke, Meeka—all rescues that we lost (and most of whom had medical issues ranging from epilepsy, having a stroke at the age of three, incontinence, etc.). All of my experiences with rescue have taken a huge mental toll, but I am not the kind of person who can imagine life without a pet (and after Electra, I couldn’t picture having another cat). That’s why I decided that I wanted a well bred, ethically bred dog.
Indie is my first pet that has been solely mine since the very beginning. She is the first pet that has been entirely my responsibility—she isn’t a childhood pet that has followed me into adulthood. I know every single good and bad experience that she has ever had, I have access to family history going back at least seven generations on both sides, I know the potential health issues to look out for just in case.
Purchasing from an ethical breeder was more than an aesthetic choice. It was an investment in preventing all of the horrible things that Electra had to endure. Indie will never experience food insecurity, she will never go without anything she needs, she will have the lowest possible odds of developing health conditions (though at the end of the day, genetics will never be 100% predictable), and she will have the temperament to bounce back from any of the things I can’t protect her from. I know there are no guarantees in life, but this is as close as I will get and that’s enough for me.
And having her isn’t a solo experience; her breeder has been there for me every step of the way. I can reach out any time for any reason, I can depend on her to act with Indie’s best interest in mind if there’s ever a situation where I can’t do it myself.
Purchasing from an ethical breeder gave me back my peace of mind (well, as much as it could be given back to me. The anxiety will always be there, but it is quieter now). So I understand where the “Adopt, don’t shop” people are coming from, but ethical breeding is truly one of the kindest things we can do for the animals we love and I will never apologize for making the choice that I did. All pets deserve to be well bred, and all owners deserve to choose how much extra risk they are capable of taking on.
So to the people who like to weaponize “Adopt, don’t shop” in conversations about pet ownership and animal welfare, please know that people’s realities are not as black and white as the slogan you’re using to shame them. Making a fully informed, thoughtful, responsible choice is ultimately the best thing we can do for our animals—whether that be adopting or shopping.
Spots & Thoughts 