Richard Avanzino is a hustler and sweet talker. He smiles easily and seems to be having just a little too much fun to be trusted entirely. But you can't argue with his results; in 1976 Avanzino took over a run-down, deeply in-debt San Francisco Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and transformed it into a model shelter for the animal world.
In the process he has turned the animal welfare business on its head as "no- kill" shelters like his - which guarantee a home for all healthy cats and dogs - do battle with traditional shelters for the hearts, and dollars, of donors. "If you have a `no-kill' shelter in town, chances are you're going to have to have another centre in town that does the killing," says Carl Friedman, director of San Francisco's Department of Animal Care and Control. "It sets up a good-guy, bad-guy dynamic that I think is just not fair."
There appears to be no stopping the movement. Of the 5,000 animal shelters in the US, more than 700 call themselves "no-kill" and Avanzino has just been put in charge of the $200 million Duffield Foundation which has the stated mission of "revolutionising the status and well-being of companion animals in the United States."
To understand why he is so far ahead of the curve in the animal-care world, all you need do is visit the crown jewel of his 32 years at the helm in San Francisco. With a price tag of $7.4 million, the gleaming Maddie's Pet Adoption Centre (named after the late dog of technology magnate David Duffield, who ponied up $1 million for construction) is like no kennel you've ever seen.
Just about every detail of the centre is a departure from the norm. From the outside it looks like a fancy corporate head office. Inside, dogs are assigned to "apartments" filled with tables and chairs, framed artwork and little refinements like candlesticks or tea settings. Every one of its 21 rooms for dogs has its own television and VCR. "We show them happy pet films, like Rin Tin Tin, Lassie and 101 Dalmatians. They really seem to like those," says Avanzino.
Intensive sound baffling ensures the halls are filled with the sound of people, not barking dogs. It keeps everyone - even the dogs - more relaxed. A custom-designed air circulation system pumps air downwards to virtually eliminate odours. Sunshine pours through skylights.
And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Since the goal of the centre is to ensure quick adoptions, every day spent at Maddie's is planned to make the animals into better pets. For dogs, the routine begins at 6.30 a.m. and doesn't end until 10 at night. First they are walked - taken to a relieve themselves in a walled-in spot called a "French toilette". Next they have a half-hour workout, and sessions in socialisation, etiquette and behaviour training. Finally they have about an hour to relax and meet potential adoptive families in their dorm rooms. The routine is repeated throughout the day.
"The longer the stay here, the smarter they get," Avanzino says. Spend enough time around Avanzino and you soon realise his vocabulary has all the hallmarks of a veteran spinmeister: dogs have their "condos", cats stay in "bohemian lofts"; they all reside in housing estates, and live on streets - Lassie Lane being the main drag.
It might seem like pyschobabble, but Avanzino says it's a critical step in changing old attitudes. "It puts into perspective the importance and value of pets in our lives," he says. "You would not put a family member in a kennel or a cage. You would not `process' them. The traditional language and culture of a shelter reinforces a processing mentality."
The ideas have clearly resonated in San Francisco. The SPCA has more than 2,200 volunteers and brags that one in three households in the city donates either time or money to its cause. It raises more than $7 million a year - almost 60 per cent more than Toronto, a city about four times as large. Back in 1984 Avanzino recognised that being in the business of animal control - chasing strays and euthanising the animals for which it could not find homes - wasn't winning any friends. He convinced city officials to take over that part of the agency's responsibilities so his shelter could concentrate on rehabilitation, adoption and neutering programs to reduce overpopulation.
San Francisco has a pact with the Department of Animal Control to take all healthy, adoptable pets (those with no severe or dangerous behaviour problems). On top of that it takes in about half the department's dogs with "treatable health problems". A home is guaranteed for any healthy animal brought to the shelter. And if they run out of space? "That's when we get innovative," says media relations director Lynn Spivak. In a pinch they organize media events, taking as many as 20 dogs downtown to show off the refinements they've learned in training school. The shelter - which at most can house about 80 dogs and 200 cats - also has an extensive foster-home programme, families which will take in animals temporarily when space is tight. In a worst-case scenario, they will pay to have animals boarded in private kennels. Avanzino has his critics, however. Most of whom argue that the term "nokill" is misleading and, worse, pits shelters against each other. Most US shelters fall into basically two categories: government-run agencies which must take in all strays, uphold local ordinances and collect dangerous animals, and the private non-profit shelters like the San Francisco SPCA which do not have to accept all animals brought to them.
Roger Caras, past president of the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, has been one of the most outspoken of Avanzino's critics. In a newsletter last year he said nokill is "more hoax than fact", pointing to the more than 4,000 dogs and cats euthanised by the city's animal control centre last year.
"It (the no-kill policy) is everyone's fantasy," says Caras. " But realistically, how are you going to find 40,000 new homes for animals in New York city? I think it's a wonderful idea, but I think he's dreaming."
