CHAPTER 14 Bert Troughton Strategic Initiatives, American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA®), New Gloucester, USA As if tending to the behavior needs of shelter animals is not complicated enough, successful adoption requires understanding and skill with yet another complex animal: humans. As of this writing, current estimates are that approximately 2.7 of the 7.6 million cats and dogs who enter shelters in the USA annually are euthanized (ASPCA 2014). Many of these lives could be saved by increasing adoptions, which depends—in part—on more effective adoption practices. This chapter clarifies how shelter professionals can facilitate learning with potential adopters. Such learning can improve adopter experiences at shelters and ensure that adopters are better equipped to have successful relationships with their pets, that is, relationships that meet the needs of both the adopter and the animal(s). The focus here is on learning, rather than education, which is an important distinction. Learning leads to changes in knowledge, skills, and attitudes that can be demonstrated through behavior (Vella 2002), while education can be provided without achieving any of those changes. The adoption process is examined in three parts: (i) the adopter—in order to provide a better sense of the people who adopt (or try to) by looking at their behaviors, motivations, and expectations; (ii) the learning—in order to identify the critical elements that must be present for adults to learn and how to effectively facilitate learning for adopters; and (iii) the program—in order to outline training and support for staff and volunteers that can make them capable facilitators of learning, as well as to define and evaluate program success. While the majority of emphasis is on the actual adoption process, the principles and approaches examined here are also important in providing follow-up support, training, and/or behavior consultation for adopters. According to the 2012 National Pet Owner Survey, some 179 million cats and dogs reside as companion animals in the USA, with 56.7 million households including at least one dog and 45.3 including at least one cat. Combined, that represents 68% of US households in 2012. A higher percentage of these households are considered “family households” compared with the total US population. Cats and dogs are acquired from a variety of sources, with 39% acquired through adoption from shelters, rescues, or adoption programs in independent pet stores and superstores. That number is a marked increase from the 17.5% acquired through pet adoption in 2002 (though this may be due, in part, to more recent surveys including adoption from multiple outlets in addition to shelters) (APPA 2013). From the early 1900s, animal shelters existed to remove strays from the streets, providing a place where owners could find and reclaim those animals and—for those animals not reclaimed—providing (what was believed to be) a humane death. It was not until the 1950s that adoption became a standard program in animal shelters. By the 1970s, more attention was being paid to adoption criteria, regarding both the animals being selected for the adoption program and the people expressing interest in taking them home. Criteria were typically developed based on prior experiences of failed adoptions or instances of cruelty, thus the list of criteria at a shelter often grew somewhat organically over time (AHA 1999). In 1999, prompted by two incidents of well-known and respected leaders in the animal welfare field failing to pass the adoption criteria at their local shelters and hence being denied adoptions, the American Humane Association hosted an Adoption Forum with 20 representatives from shelters around the country in an attempt to recommend a reasonable national list of adoption criteria. Forum participants identified 40 criterions then in current use, along with another 14 descriptors of “ideal adopters.” From this long list, Forum participants were able to reach consensus on only four criteria that they believed every shelter should uphold: Shelters should not adopt to (i) people who are drunk, high, or abusive; (ii) collectors/hoarders; (iii) people with a history of animal or child abuse; and (iv) people intending to use the animals for food (AHA 1999). Few, if any, Forum participants intended to reduce their own shelter’s adoption criteria to this short list, nor is there any evidence of uptake by the field at large, but an influential outcome of the Forum was the emergence of a new concept: “open adoptions.” Joe Silva, then Director of Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Shelter Development, described open adoptions as a move from a courtroom to a classroom atmosphere: “Being ‘open’ means we free potential adopters from unrealistic and unachievable expectations…expect our staff to help people and trust them…establish constructive relationships…evaluate what role our shelters play in terms of pet acquisition within our communities…be honest with ourselves about what we can and cannot control…base decisions on the needs of the animals as well as the pet-owning dynamics in our communities…and we will not be afraid to take some risks (Silva 1999).” Four years later, PetSmart Charities convened Adoption Forum II with some of the same and some new industry representatives to define “successful” adoptions. Forum participants used the Five Freedoms (see Appendix C) to develop the Five Essentials of a Successful Adoption: (i) the match would be suited to the individual animal and family; (ii) the pet would be afforded appropriate veterinary care; (iii) the pet’s social, behavioral, and companionship needs would be met; (iv) the pet would have a livable environment (including appropriate food, water, shelter, etc.); and (v) the pet would be respected and valued (Moulton 2003). Notably, Forum II participants also believed that adoption programs and counselors should focus on success and set forth guidelines for a good adoption process that positions the adoption interaction as a learning opportunity (Box 14.1). The more a counselor understands about adopters collectively, and especially individually, the more effectively the counselor can assist adopters in learning the things that will help them succeed with their animals. First and foremost, adopters are people looking to share their lives with one or more companion animals. People enjoy the benefits of companionship from their cats and dogs (whether adopted or otherwise acquired) by viewing them as fulfilling important roles: nonjudgmental friends or partners; surrogate children—either giving prospective parents the opportunity to practice the joys and responsibilities of parenthood or filling a void for adults who have no children or whose children have grown; or extensions of the self whereby the pet parents see the animal’s traits as either a reflection or projection of her/his own traits (Hirschman 1994). Adopters overwhelmingly cite the desire to rescue or save an animal as the strongest driver for adopting, with the next closest driver—seeing an animal’s picture online—trailing by more than 60 percentage points (Ipsos 2011). Perhaps, it is this altruistic motivation that helps adopters bolster themselves for the experience of visiting a shelter. While familiar and understandable to the professionals who work there, most animal shelters present a daunting and overpowering array of foreign, if not disturbing, sights, sounds, smells, and experiences for prospective adopters to endure. An apt comparison to get a sense of this psychological experience might be to imagine visiting a medical facility for elderly and severely infirm patients or a prison; even modern, clean, and well-run facilities with professional staff are likely to evoke emotional reactions in visitors. Because people are likely to have preconceived notions about what happens to the animals in a shelter, how the animals feel about being in the shelter, and/or what the adoption experience will be like even shelters with state-of-the-art buildings and programs represent a significantly stressful environment for some potential adopters. This is important to note because just as stress causes physical reactions that require coping mechanisms in dogs and cats (Bollen 2013b), so, too, does stress induce a physical response in people, and that response interferes with the adopter’s ability to pay attention to the counselor (Zull 2002). Compounding the stressful nature of the shelter environment for potential adopters is the natural propensity for shelter workers to make quick assessments of potential adopters and categorize them as “good” or “bad,” (Balcom & Arluke 2001; Taylor 2004) thereby triggering a potential host of reactions from anxiety to defensiveness in the adopter. Somehow, though, people manage to navigate this system and adopt some 2.7 dogs and cats annually (ASPCA 2014). So how do they find and choose a particular pet to adopt? A study of the decision process at one animal shelter found that people fell into one of three categories: (i) “planners”—who know what they want and are specific in their requirements, possibly because they are looking to replace a prior pet; (ii) “impartials”—who are open to a variety of traits so long as the animal will make a good companion; and (iii) “smittens”—who respond to an “irresistible pull” to a particular animal whether or not the animal fits with characteristics the adopter may have had in mind when she/he came looking for a pet (Irvine 2004). Some good news in this latter case is that impulse adoptions (“spur of the moment decisions”) do not appear to increase risk of relinquishment (AHA and PetSmart Charities 2013). Animal age has been shown to be an important factor in pet selection, with adopters showing strong preference for puppies, kittens, and younger animals in general (Lepper et al. 2002). Since age is not a malleable characteristic, it is encouraging to note some of the other important factors: appearance, social behavior with the adopter, and personality (Weiss et al. 2012). Follow-up studies bear out that personality, compatibility with adopter, and behavior continue to be the most important factors in satisfaction and pet retention (Neidhart & Boyd 2002). Researchers have long recognized that adopter knowledge and skill play an important part in pet retention. The authors of a 2001 comprehensive marketing study to better understand the outcomes of companion animal adoptions suggest that “opportunities to improve owners’ perceptions of their pets and the adoption process can be achieved through: (i) providing more information before adoption about pet health and behaviors; (ii) providing counseling to potential adopters to place pets appropriately; and (iii) educating adopters to promote companion animal health and retention” (Neidhart & Boyd 2002). These recommendations are similar to those set forth 10 years earlier, following some of the earliest research on adoption retention (Kidd et al. 1992). Unfortunately, both studies (and countless animal welfare agencies) emphasize “education,” which belies a teaching-centered approach, that is, the teacher or counselor is the authority figure and decision-maker and the focus is on the instruction. In this approach, “educating” the adopter is generally accomplished by telling the adopter things the counselor believes the adopter needs to know. It would be a simpler world indeed if people learned from being told. Learning, or the acquisition of new skills, knowledge, and/or attitudes, produces physical changes in the brain in the form of biochemical pathways between neurons (Zull 2004). As a person experiences the world through the senses, information is fed to the brain, which engages in an active and continual process of changing these neural networks. Practice increases the use of some of the pathways, making them stronger; and lack of practice causes other neural networks to diminish (providing biological proof of the “use it or lose it” phenomenon). Perceived emotions are chemical in nature, as well, and also serve to reinforce neural pathways, which may help to explain why beliefs often override facts (Zull 2002; Evans et al. 2007). The discovery and study of the way experience (including learning) modifies the brain has led to enhanced understanding of the conditions for learning, which track remarkably well with adult learning theory developed originally by Malcolm Knowles (Conlan et al. 2003), commonly regarded as the “Father of Adult Learning,” and to the practice of learning-centered teaching as developed by Jane Vella (2002). Shelter and behavior professionals have a wealth of animal experience and knowledge. By understanding and applying principles and practices that facilitate learning for adults, professionals can relay their wisdom in ways that help adopters to live quite successfully with their adoptees. Like learners themselves (and their nervous systems), the conditions for learning are a complex interplay of many actions and functions. While each of the following learning principles can be examined on their own, it is in their artful combination that the most fertile conditions for learning will be created. Respect—Adults are not blank slates; they come to any learning situation with an existing collection of past experiences, knowledge, and skills, as well as beliefs and attitudes developed as a result (Vella 2002). As previously noted, these are real—they exist as physical pathways in the brain. New learning is built upon existing pathways (Zull 2002); therefore not only is it respectful to acknowledge existing thoughts and feelings, but it is critical in order to add new learning. Autonomy—Adults are in charge of their own lives. Part of respecting adults is recognizing that they are the decision-makers about whether, what, and how they will learn (Vella 2002). And not only that they are the decision-makers but that they are in the best position to make the best decisions for themselves, since they are—after all—the experts on their own circumstances. It is easy to see the relationship between respect and autonomy. Relevance and Immediacy—From an evolutionary standpoint, learning makes living possible. The most powerful motivation to learn is intrinsic, arising from a need or desire to know (Vella 2002; Zull 2002). Adults will put the time and energy into learning when the benefits of that learning—and/or the cost of not learning—are clear and are deemed to be more important than the other things demanding their attention. Because virtually every experience offers a multitude of opportunities to learn, adults must be economical in what they choose to learn. Ever pragmatic, adults are inclined toward acquiring understanding and skills that are not only relevant to their lives but that they will also be able to put into use right away. Practical, immediately applicable, and useful information is an adult’s natural first choice. On this point, it is important to note that what is relevant and immediate is determined by the learner, not by the teacher or counselor. Engagement—In part because of their felt need for relevance and immediacy and in part because learning is strengthened by more neural activity along the same pathways, adults learn best by playing an active role in the learning. In short: learning by doing (Vella 2002; Zull 2002; Conlan et al. 2003). Within this idea of engagement, it is helpful to consider three learning preferences: visual, auditory, and kinesthetic. As the label implies, a person with a visual preference for learning will be most engaged by things she/he can see, such as diagrams, pictures, text, and demonstrations. An auditory learner thrives on sound input, for example, lecture, music, conversation, and the sounds of the natural environment. A kinesthetic learner learns best through activity. These learners have a strong need to physically dive into the learning, get their hands on things, move around, and conduct trial and error to develop their understanding of how something works (Conner 1996). The human brain, of course, can take in and translate information from any of the senses, but in much the same way that right-handed people have a preference for opening a door with their right hands (even though it is possible to open a door with their left), most people have a preference for learning that favors visual, auditory, or kinesthetic input. Opportunities to experience information via two or all three of these modes enhance learning for all learners. Safety—Within the limbic region of the brain (evolutionarily speaking, the “old” brain), lies one of the most powerful influences on learning: the amygdala. An essential and automatic processor of emotion, the amygdala is the key area that registers fear and anger. Once activated, a surge of chemical messages race through the brain and out to the body, triggering all kinds of physiological responses often referred to as the fight-or-flight response. But most significant to this topic is that once these processes are activated they take priority over everything else—slowing or even completely shutting down the brain’s ability to focus on anything except that which is causing the fear or anger (Zull 2002). Without any conscious thought, adult brains are constantly sensing cues from the environment that could spell danger. This explains what Vella learned from decades of experience teaching people in unusually precarious environments where communities were ravaged by extreme poverty, racial injustice, violence, and civil unrest: no safety, no learning (Vella 2002). There are two more actors that are particularly relevant to learning in an adoption-counseling situation: motivation and expectations. Motivation—Learning rewards come in two varieties. Expectations—Most people have firsthand experience of the power that their expectations have over performance, commonly referred to as the self-fulfilling prophecy. The expectations that a person brings to a learning situation, then, are quite important. In the classic Pygmalion experiment in 1964, San Francisco elementary school principal Lenore Jacobson and psychologist Robert Rosenthal informed 18 teachers of the results of a knowledge-acquisition test, indicating a group of students in their classrooms who were likely to show significant gains in intellectual competence during the school year. In fact, these students had actually been assigned this designation randomly as part of the experiment. Nonetheless, at the end of the school year, these students showed greater intellectual gains than the other students. This study, and hundreds of similar studies in multiple disciplines since, demonstrates that the expectations of others (and their expression of those expectations) have substantial impact on self-expectations and, indeed, on performance itself (Rosenthal 2002). Further, expectations inform attitudes, which inform behaviors. Studies have shown that when people believe their learners (whether human or nonhuman animals) will be high achievers, they describe their learners in more positive terms and bestow upon their learners more positive attention (Rosenthal 2002; Hock 2012). While this in itself is instructive for establishing a learning environment, it is also important (if not disturbing) to note that when students in the Pygmalion Study who were not predicted to be high achievers did, in fact, achieve, their teachers “regarded these learners as less well-adjusted, less interesting and less affectionate” than their peers (Rosenthal 2002). Since the expectations of others can—and often do—influence or even override self-expectations, (Troyer & Younts 1997) it is not difficult to see the critical role that affirmative expectations play in creating an atmosphere of safety and respect for the learner (and, conversely, how terribly things can go awry when the teacher or counselor has negative expectations of the learner). Meeting adopters where they are at and focusing on helping them to learn by applying adult learning principles represents a learning-centered approach to adoptions, which may be an instructive way to think about the concept that emerged from the Adoption Forum in 1999: open adoptions. Counselor behaviors that make up a learning-centered approach include acknowledging and engaging adopters, asking open versus closed questions, actively listening, using visual and kinesthetic (hands-on) learning aids, and providing opportunities for (hands-on) practice. A learning-centered approach starts with acknowledging people. This is as simple as a warm and friendly greeting when potential adopters enter the facility. Smiling genuinely, which involves engaging muscles of the mouth, cheeks, and eyes as compared with only the muscles at the corners of the mouth, is a powerful way to communicate safety and respect. Smiles signal altruism and cooperation. They are physiologically pleasurable and restorative; triggering both enhanced neurological and cardiovascular activity (Jaffe 2010). Thanks to mirror neurons, which fire not only when someone performs an action but also upon the mere observance of someone else performing that action, it appears that just seeing someone else smile may stimulate enhanced neurological activity (Iacoboni et al. 1999) What is more, smiling is “evolutionarily contagious,” that is, humans automatically seek to detect the genuineness of a smile by mimicking the smile (Gutman 2011). Finally, as a bonus in the stressful environment of a shelter, smiling signals the amygdala to calm down, making it more possible for learning to take place (Zull 2002). In the Pygmalion Study, teachers smiled at, made more eye contact with, and gave more favorable reactions to the comments of the students whom they expected to—and who ultimately did—achieve more. Further, those students were more likely to enjoy school and to work harder to try to improve (Hock 2012). Imagine, then, the effects of a shelter or adoption center full of people—staff, volunteers, and adopters—smiling big, genuinely happy smiles. Conveying genuine regard for people by smiling warmly and often may be one of the simplest and most profound ways to create a learning environment and support adopters’ learning. Acknowledging people also means taking their individual situations and their current knowledge into consideration. Have they been to the shelter and/or adopted from you before? If not, a quick tour of the adoption area and an overview of what to expect from the adoption process—including how long it is likely to take—is a simple way to establish a sense of predictability (safety). Taking the time to inquire about what an adopter is (and is not) looking for in a new companion, and then offering some suggestions regarding the animals who might interest them accordingly, is one way to address what is relevant to them, which also conveys respect. Note that the adopter—not the animal(s)—is the center of the counselor’s positive attention. The importance of this stance cannot be overstated. There is a significant body of evidence that how well people perform is directly impacted by receiving special attention—much of which is conveyed by unintentional nonverbal behavior (Rosenthal 1994). Indeed, in workshops on adoption counseling, attendees describe their own personal experiences of being able to detect whether someone is respecting them as being based on very subtle cues of tone, posture, and “soft” eye contact. At a recent workshop, an attendee relayed a story to the author about a nurse who had used all the right words with her, but the nurse’s tone, pace, and lack of eye contact had led her—as the patient—to feel confused and uncomfortable. She noted that she actually lost respect for herself during the interaction and did not even correct the nurse when she subsequently provided misinformation to the doctor. After acknowledgment, engaging learners is crucial. One very simple and powerful tool for engaging adopters is the use of open questions. Open questions have no set or correct answer but rather invite the answerer to provide context and explanation. Closed questions have set answers (and undoubtedly in the eyes of the counselor, right and wrong—or good and bad—answers). See Table 14.1. Closed questions set up a negotiated order where the counselor is the decision-maker, thereby diminishing autonomy and respect for the adopter. They also do nothing to foster learning. Worse, the ever-alert amygdala picks up quickly on the potential danger in right and wrong answers and as soon as it does, the door starts to close on learning. Table 14.1 Open versus closed questions. Open questions, on the other hand, invite the adopter to relay the things that she/he deems are most important to the situation. In this way, open questions convey respect to the adopter as the decision-maker and help the counselor to uncover what is relevant to the adopter. Answering open questions requires more thought and storytelling on the part of the adopter, which engages more of the brain. All of these things not only open the situation up for new learning, but also enhance the relationship development between the adopter and the counselor. Open questions that are not positioned as a setup and are posed with sincere, genuine interest are a cornerstone of learning-centered adoptions. They make it possible for the counselor and adopter to work together to figure out which cat or dog is most likely to lead to a satisfying relationship. To engage adopters, the counselor must listen. Listening conveys respect and enables the counselor to build a more complete picture of the adopter’s needs. Counselors and behavior professionals may be tempted to do a lot of explaining, but paradoxically, the more explaining that takes place, the less learning that occurs (at least for the adopter). Learning (i.e., creating those neural pathways) is an active process. The more a learner constructs her/his own ideas and tests them out, the more neural pathways she/he builds and the stronger they become. These pathways do not spring up in a void; they must be built upon existing neural pathways, which, of course, are different in everyone’s brain. A counselor’s explanation is built upon that counselor’s neural network, leaving potentially no starting place for the learner since she/he is unlikely to have the same existing knowledge (neural structure) as that of the counselor. Rather than explaining, counselors can engage adopters in active exploration of concepts through diagrams, demonstration, and even metaphors and story (Zull 2004). This is not to say that counselors and behavior staff should not answer adopters’ questions. In fact, information from staff and volunteers is the adopter’s preferred source of information (Weiss et al. 2012). Allowing adopters to ask their questions first, however, and then answering them supports learning by putting the adopter in control (and saves time, since the counselor does not have to spend time explaining things that are not relevant to the adopter). Answers that include visuals, such as demonstrations, pictures, and diagrams, or kinesthetic opportunities such as touch will be much more engaging and lead to more learning. In veterinary medicine, for example, showing pet owners one or more ways to administer medication (demonstration) is associated with a higher rate of never missing a dose (73% vs. 59% with no demonstration) (Albers & Hardesty 2010). The same study found that providing written information (visual input) also leads to a lower rate of missed doses, with 65% of respondents reporting that they referred back to the written instructions. Many shelters already provide adoption packets of written information; however, adoption counselors frequently lament that based on follow-up issues and questions, it does not appear adopters are reading the information. The solution is simple. Rather than providing standard packets, counselors can help adopters to choose written materials that are specific (relevant) to each animal and adopter. While the counselor is taking care of some of the paperwork and other tasks to finalize an adoption, the adopter can review the written information. To further engage the learner in this written material, the counselor can provide the adopter with a highlighter and ask her/him to review the material and highlight any areas she/he would like to discuss further. This makes for a visual and kinesthetic experience for the adopter, thereby strengthening the learning while also giving the counselor another way to discover what is relevant and immediate to the adopter. Engagement significantly enhances learning (Vella 2001; Conlan et al. 2003). Adopters cite the ability to interact with the pet they adopted (versus simply viewing him or her in a cage) as important to choosing that pet (Weiss et al. 2012). This speaks to the importance of practice as engagement. Handling, walking, grooming, and/or playing with a pet are all forms of practice that can give adopters the opportunity to test out their ideas about what it would be like to live with the animal. This practice or interaction with an animal is far more engaging than viewing an animal because it involves auditory, visual, and kinesthetic input, and it provides the adopter with critical information about how she/he feels about the pet’s behavior and response to the adopter (two things shown to be important to a lasting bond) (Gourkow 2001; Neidhart & Boyd 2002). Behavior staff can build on this opportunity, for example, by helping the adopter to get the cat or dog to demonstrate a trick the pet has learned at the shelter. Such an interaction is simultaneously positive reinforcement for the adopter and a quick, practical lesson in positive reinforcement training. Behavior staff can also assist the adopter’s practice by helping to interpret some of the behavior the animal is displaying, particularly behaviors that are a sign of greeting and attention-seeking, since these are shown to influence choice (Weiss et al. 2012) and attachment levels (Hoffman et al. 2013). The most important practice opportunities of all will be those things that the adopter needs and wants to put to use right away (immediacy). For a dog showing signs of food aggression, for example, giving the adopter a chance to safely practice (and get feedback on) the feeding protocol will significantly increase competence, confidence, and compliance (i.e., likelihood of follow-through at home). For dogs that pull, helping the adopter choose a no-pull leash or harness and put it on the dog—maybe even a couple of times—is the best way to ensure the adopter will be able to walk the dog (and enjoy walking the dog) at home. If hairballs are of concern, adopters can practice brushing a cat (and recognizing when to stop). If furniture scratching is of concern, the adopter can practice clipping a cat’s nails. The possibilities for practice are many. The critical consideration for choosing a practice opportunity is to determine what is most relevant and immediate for the adopter. The best way to find this out is, of course, to ask. But a wide-open question such as What else can I help you with? or What are your questions? will often be too broad and initiate a pat response. Instead, it is useful to engage the adopter in painting a picture. For example, Walk me through your first couple of days with Fluffy here—from the parking lot right on through—so we can figure out if there’s anything else I can help you with to get you two started off successfully. One more note about practice: in a safe and respectful learning environment, mistakes are a gold mine of learning opportunities. As the learner works to figure out what went wrong and incorporates assistance and information (i.e., feedback) from the counselor, she/he is very actively engaged, takes control of solving the problem, and—most importantly—practices problem-solving behavior. This is active learning at its best (Conlan et al. 2003; Salas et al. 2012). It both enhances confidence for future similar problem-solving, which will be important to a successful relationship with the animal, and reinforces the relationship with the counselor. If the adopter’s solo problem-solving efforts fail in the future, she/he will be more likely to turn to the counselor for more help (Coffey 2009). Weaving adult learning principles together to support adopter learning is parallel to emerging practices in other professions. In a comprehensive marketing study for veterinarians and veterinary practices, for example, pet owners rated two factors above all else in choosing a veterinarian: the doctor should be kind and gentle, and the doctor should be respectful and informative (Shaw et al. 2004). Relationship-centered care, an approach in human medicine that emphasizes the dynamic between a caring, knowledgeable physician and the autonomy of the patient, is also being adapted to veterinary medicine. “Respect for the client’s perspective and interests, and recognition of the role the animal plays in the life of the client, are incorporated into all aspects of care” (Shaw et al. 2004, p. 677). The link between veterinarian/client communications and pet health outcomes is still being studied, but there is substantial evidence in human medicine of improved health status for patients who feel listened-to, receive thorough information, and play an active role in the decision-making regarding treatment plans (Williams et al. 2000; Shaw et al. 2004). Since the earliest published study of adoption retention in 1992, adopter expectations have been shown to play a significant role in whether a match endures (Kidd & Kidd 1992; Houpt et al. 1996; National Council on Pet Population Study and Policy [NCCPSP] 2001; Shore 2005). Comparing relinquished animals to retained animals, owners who relinquish dogs report more house soiling, destructive behavior, and fearful behavior than owners who retain dogs; and owners who relinquish cats report more house soiling, destruction, and overactivity—though behavior, in general, appears to be a less significant relinquishment risk factor for cats than dogs (New et al. 2000). Several studies have indicated that many owners who relinquish animals have limited or incorrect knowledge of both animal behavior and basic husbandry, which leads to misinterpretation of normal behaviors; for example, interpreting behaviors as spiteful or labeling attention-seeking behavior as overactivity (Salman et al. 1998; New et al. 2000; Wells & Hepper 2000). To understand more about relinquishment, see Chapter 3. In addition to a better understanding of behavior, adopters need realistic expectations of the work involved in forging a strong bond with their animal, not unlike the work involved in maintaining bonds with spouses, family, and friends (Shore 2005). Because new learning is built upon existing knowledge, this analogy can be a useful tool in helping adopters to imagine a successful life together with their new pet, since nearly everyone can access their own personal knowledge and experience of making accommodations in their personal relationships on the road to making those relationships work. Along these lines, since animals in multiple-pet households are at greater risk of relinquishment (Salman et al. 1998), another potentially helpful analogy for explaining the changes an adopter may observe when adding a pet to their existing brood is to liken the situation to changing human family structures (e.g., new spouse, new baby, and blending two families). When a family member—human or animal—is added to the existing social hierarchy, roles shift, behaviors change, and it is all in the normal course of becoming a new family unit. Such an analogy can form the foundation in the adopter’s existing knowledge upon which the counselor can add information specific to the pet being adopted and the pets in the home, to help the adopter anticipate and understand the kinds of behaviors she/he may encounter. While it is helpful to be aware of common reasons for relinquishment—particularly when it comes to socialization and training for shelter animals to improve their appeal to adopters—caution should be used in applying knowledge of broad relinquishment themes to individual circumstances. For example, landlord issues are cited in the top five reasons for relinquishment for both dogs and cats (NCCPSP 2001), but certainly many—and probably the majority of—renters who live with pets do so successfully. A common error in adoption counseling is assuming which information is most relevant for adopters based largely on the counselor’s knowledge of the animal and experience with frequently heard reasons for relinquishment (ASPCA 2009). This error can be fatal because failing to see the adopter as a unique individual blatantly violates the fundamental learning principle of respect. It is additionally problematic because people are not as easily categorized as data points. Adoption counseling is hard precisely because it requires the counselor to set aside existing knowledge and preconceived notions in order to learn about the unique individual person who is seeking to adopt. This takes time—generally the valuable commodity of which no sheltering professional has enough. This is where a tool such as the Meet Your Match® (MYM) adopter survey can be particularly useful (Figure 14.1). A short series of simple questions with a limited range of possible responses helps both the adopter and counselor to zero-in quickly on some of the human lifestyle issues and animal behaviors that have been shown to be important in forming lasting bonds. Though not completely open-ended, the questions adhere to the open question concept in that they are free of judgment and have no set, correct answer. As a survey, versus an adoption questionnaire or application, it is less likely to trigger right/wrong or pass/fail anxiety in the adopter (safety). While only part of the total MYM program (which includes corresponding dog or cat assessments and engaging, color-coded animal personality profiles), even used as is, the MYM survey can be a very helpful aid, subtly guiding the adopter through important considerations for choosing a good match. Every successful relationship requires accommodations, that is, adjustments to attitudes, expectations, and behaviors. Successful relationships with animals are no exception. This is another important feature of the MYM survey (as well as other approaches that emphasize a few well-crafted, relevant open questions): it lays the foundation for helping adopters to think through necessary accommodations they might need to make in order for the animal of choice to work out in the adopter’s home. For example, a family that rates their household as a “carnival” (versus a library or middle of the road, which are all choices on the adopter survey) will want to work with the counselor on ways they can help a cat who freezes and hides in response to new stimuli. The counselor can provide suggestions for helping the cat adjust to a boisterous household and help the family to anticipate the cat’s behavior, especially in the first couple of weeks. As another example, an adopter may fall for a highly rambunctious dog even though she has indicated that she wants an only “somewhat playful” and “very laid back” dog. In this instance, the counselor can allow the adopter to interact with the dog so she can experience firsthand the dog’s activity level. The counselor can help the adopter to use toys and training techniques to direct the dog’s energy. This will help the adopter to get a realistic sense of what she would need to provide the dog at home in order to satiate the dog’s need for mental and physical stimulation. In conversation with the counselor, the adopter can decide whether this amount of work will, indeed, make for the kind of satisfying relationship the adopter was looking for. Helping adopters to think through the ways in which compatibility might be somewhat mismatched—and supporting them with suggestions while they develop their own plans for accommodations—is not only engaging and respectful but also empowering. It puts the tool of critical thinking and problem-solving into the hands of the adopter, who is after all the person who is going to need to be doing the critical thinking and problem-solving once home with the animal. This support for the adopter’s own discovery process is potentially constructive in another way: the adopter may well determine that a different animal that is more compatible with the adopter’s lifestyle would be a better choice. Adopters who reach these decisions for themselves retain their sense of control and continue to feel safe, respected, and open to more learning. Counselors can assist adopters in making good choices by taking the time to help them interact with a few different animals, so that the adopters can experience the difference in things like affiliative behaviors, activity levels, responsiveness, etc. This also affords a treasure trove of opportunities to point out behaviors and help adopters interpret them. Even in so-called perfect matches, some level of accommodations will be required. Chewing, digging, and scratching are the most frequently reported problem with cats at 1 week and 1 month after adoption and with dogs after 1 month of adoption (Lord et al. 2008). Finding out whether adopters are prepared for such behaviors can be accomplished through an open question in the course of conversation, for example: What kinds of toys and scratching (or digging) surfaces do you already have? What can I help you with so you’ll be able to direct Missy to use her stuff instead of yours for chewing and scratching? In the case of dog adoptions, depending on the dog’s history, it may also be useful to describe some early indicators of possible separation anxiety (Lord et al. 2008) and to encourage adopters to seek help right away should they appear. Alternatively, the counselor can walk the adopter through a handout with simple protocol for supporting the development of healthy coping behaviors in dogs. Where possible, effective accommodations—and treatment plans, as in the case of animals going home with medications or prescribed behavioral protocol—should include very simple, practical, and specific steps to help build follow-through right into the adopter’s routine. It is one thing, for example, for an adopter to watch a demonstration of the steps for eliminating food guarding and determine that the steps are simple enough to do at home; it is another to put those steps into an actionable plan. To make it actionable, the counselor can coach the adopter to think through the steps as if creating a story. What times of day will you be feeding Fido? What (and who) is in the room where you will feed him? What will help you remember which step you’re on in the protocol? Is there someplace visible to post the protocol so you have a ready reference you can easily check? Encouraging adopters to add notes to their personal calendars or set up automated text or e-mail reminders to themselves is another way to actively engage adopters in treatment planning. Just as it is often productive to redirect dog behavior, redirection is a useful tool when dealing with adopters who have prior knowledge or beliefs based on misinformation. For example, rather than correcting an adopter who believes that house training can be accomplished by rubbing the dog’s nose in urine or feces, acknowledge the adopter’s intent and provide a more effective approach. Yes, it’s good to be on top of the situation until the dog has completely learned where to go to the bathroom and where not to, and I’ve got a great handout with a few simple steps trainers now recommend that help dogs learn more quickly. This stuff is easy to do and will be way less unpleasant for your dog and you, plus it will spare your rugs and floors. There is little gain in correcting adopters. The brain does not unlearn something just because it hears “no.” In fact, repeating misinformation with a negative, such as No, it’s wrong to [rub a dog’s nose in feces] or [Scolding] isn’t the correct approach, paradoxically exercises and strengthens the same erroneous pathway in the brain (Zull 2002; Evans et al. 2007). Additionally, making an adopter feel bad for prior mistakes by explaining how awful a training method was for the dog or cat is likely to trigger shame, guilt, or defensiveness, closing down receptivity for learning. In general, the data on whether past experience with pets is associated with increased or decreased retention is mixed (Kidd & Kidd 1992; Mondelli et al. 2004). Therefore, it seems advisable for the counselor to be cautious about assumptions related to the value (or lack thereof) of past experience and focus instead on developing a relationship with the adopter that supports their learning with regard to their current needs and those of the specific cat or dog they have selected. If the adopter references past experience, that is a clue that something about that experience is relevant to the adopter and may be worth discussion. If not, it is advisable to stay focused on the adopter’s present circumstances and chosen animal. Finally, there is only so much information adopters (or anyone) can integrate before reaching a saturation point (Zull 2002). The training concept of splitting, that is, breaking behaviors down into single, simple components is a useful analogy here (Zielinski 2013). Determine the two or three most important pieces of learning relevant to helping each particular adopter and animal in their immediate future, and provide a business card or other resources so the adopter knows where to turn when she/he is ready for or in need of more. Some form of trial adoptions may help adopters to take the plunge knowing that the commitment does not have to be lifelong if it turns out not to be a good match. Such programs also offer a sense of reassurance to staff and volunteers since the animals are still legally owned by the shelter and staff can legitimately be more involved in the animals’ ongoing care than in regular adoptions. Some shelters refer to this kind of arrangement as foster-to-adopt and others choose program names that are analogous to fun and familiar human experiences, such as “sleepovers.” In one shelter in Italy, the majority of dogs with behavior problems in their Temporary Adoption Program (TAP) were ultimately adopted by their temporary adopters, indicating the program may help people successfully work through issues that would otherwise interfere with forming a lasting bond. These dogs also had a lower return rate than dogs not in TAP (Normando et al. 2006). One of the most important things to teach adopters in order to protect animals from a possible poor quality of life or relinquishment is that cats and dogs are trainable (Lawson 2000). Adopters who understand that animals are trainable will be able to see the possibility for developing fun behaviors and fixing problem behaviors. Obviously, a counselor can explain this, and a counselor can even demonstrate an animal’s trainability. But as with all learning, the lesson will be much more effective when the adopter is in an environment where the trainability of animals is all around them and, better still, the adopter has the opportunity to actively engage in the training. For example, volunteers can train cats and dogs to come to the front of their cages when people approach (Figure 14.2), increasing the likelihood that adopters will choose them (Collingsworth 2010; Weiss et al. 2012). Adopters can see this training in action and can easily be invited to participate, with the volunteer or staff member providing a bit of coaching, pointing out the animals’ responses and even suggesting ways the same technique could be used in the home to accustom pets to visitors.
The adoption process: The interface with the human animal
History of the adoption process
Adopter behaviors, motivations, and expectations
Learning versus education
Principles of adult learning
Learning-centered adoption counseling
Open questions
Closed questions
What were your past cats like? Or What did you enjoy most and least about your previous cats?
Have you ever owned a cat?
Tell me about your home.
Do you own or rent?
What kinds of exercise do you want to give your new dog?
Is your yard fenced?
How is the health of your current pets and how do they like your vet?
Are your pets up to date on their veterinary care?
What, if any, costs (related to your new pet) are you concerned about?
Do you know how much it costs to care for a pet for 1 year?
How else can I help you today?
May I help you?
Matchmaking
Developing accommodations
Dealing with misinformation
Keeping it simple
Supporting learning through the shelter environment