By Chris Lane
By Jeff Balke
By Aaron Reiss
By Angelica Leicht
By Dianna Wray
By Aaron Reiss
By Camilo Smith
By Craig Malisow
Colleen Hodges, education coordinator for Harris County Rabies/Animal Control, cringes at memories of a Disney film: "It's been how many years since that movie came out, but we still see tons of dalmatians come in."
Thanks to Men in Black II, the Hollywood hound of the moment is the pug. Frank the pug has a major role in the film, frequently upstaging his human co-stars, and that means a run on the curly-tailed, bug-eyed charmers. Mushu, the professionally trained pug who plays Frank, will always have a good home. The seven-year old animal actor enjoys the full star treatment, drinking bottled water and attending red-carpet functions.
Frank also flies in an airplane's cabin, not in cargo. The special airline treatment is only partly due to his celebrity status -- his breed is brachycephalic, and those kinds of breathing problems mean this pooch can't fly cargo.
Animal welfare activists cite the pug's health problems in explaining a sad cycle for canines caught up in media-induced fads. The wrong kinds of people rush in to get what turns out to be the wrong type of pet for them -- and wind up abandoning those animals, leaving breed rescue groups and shelters to cope with the fallout.
Fans of 101 Dalmatians saw spots in their eyes, but not the shortcomings of the breed. They figured out that expensive purebred dalmatians actually can't talk, and often have deafness and behavior problems. The lucky dogs went to the pound -- others just got dumped.
"We try to adopt them out if they're heartworm negative," Hodges said, adding that these dogs, short-coated creatures typically stored in a backyard, are generally heartworm positive.
In the case of Frank's kin, the same smashed-in face that allows Mushu to fit right in with the freakish animatronic aliens of MIIB can cause all sorts of woes for those dogs. Pugs, along with other monkey-faced breeds like the Boston terrier, boxers and Pekinese, have brachycephalic respiratory syndrome which may cause distress, or require surgery. (Roughly 25-30 percent of pugs need an operation that costs between $700 to $1,000, and anesthetizing them is risky as well.) Their oddly shaped skulls can also lead to eye problems and dental woes.
Heatstroke is a serious danger for brachycephalic dogs. A Georgia-based pug rescue group acquired the domain name frankthepug.org and uses that Web site to explain the special needs and problems of pugs. (Frequent farting is on the list, along with "getting slimed.")
Pug Rescue of Southeast Texas, a 12-year-old organization that tries to find good homes for unwanted pugs, is worried about a pug rush in the wake of Men in Black II. Hodges feels pugs have a couple of things going for them. She says, "A pug's not like a dalmatian, who has nine puppies in a litter. A pug has like three." Along with being less at risk for overbreeding, Hodges says, "Pugs are small shorthaired dogs, which is what people want, as opposed to a 60-pound dalmatian."
Two years after the last dalmatian movie, the dogs are still trotting in, to be "surrendered." If a healthy, adoptable spotty dog doesn't find a home, Hodges says, "We'll call dalmatian rescue -- there are two or three around. Usually, they're packed." (More than 20 dogs whose owners have called it quits are waiting to enter the Loving Spots dalmatian rescue program.)
While the dalmatian rescue group tries to find foster homes for their wards, Hodges says, "We have to wait, which makes us a boarding facility for a rescue group, and that's kind of hard to justify." There's always another dog needing a space at the county shelter, and breed rescue groups can only do so much, even when they're legit.
Jim Boller, chief investigator for the Houston SPCA, says he prefers the term "adoption partner" or "breed placement groups" to rescue groups, because he doesn't want it to sound like people are rescuing dogs from the SPCA. Boller also says there can be a fine line between rescue groups and hoarders. This fear of well-meaning people who will ultimately do the dogs no good is felt at all animal welfare agencies.
Hodges says whenever she gets a call from someone claiming to represent a new rescue group or boutique shelter, she wonders if she's dealing with a hoarder. Hoarders, also called collectors, range from people who accumulate more than the legal limit of dogs that are underfed and underfoot in their homes to the obvious nuts who wind up with 70 animals, dead or alive, in their hovels.
News reports occasionally feature a cash-strapped shelter founder who appears on camera with a trembling smile, begging for money, and the camera pans over a dozen adorable animals, all in need of a home right away. Sometimes the pleas work, and other times the animals from a no-kill shelter wind up at a facility with more realistic policies.