A ‘buyer’s guide’ for National Adopt a Shelter Dog Month By John Preston Smith – Contributing columnist(column #3)

A ‘buyer’s guide’ for National Adopt a Shelter Dog Month

By John Preston Smith – Contributing columnist


October is national Adopt a Shelter Dog month.

The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) and the American Humane Association (AHA) have banded together to promote the idea of getting as many adoptable dogs in homes as possible…especially during the month of October.

Having trained and handled over 14,000 dogs I’d like to present my views on adopting pets from shelters.

Every dog of my childhood (heck, I was 27 years old before I purchased a purebred dog) was of mixed ancestry: Jeep, Taxi, Silver, and Chad, by name. All purchased by my dad from the city pound. Note: It is believed that the word “pound” came from the “animal pounds” where stray livestock would be “impounded” until claimed by their owners. Over time the word ‘shelter’ replaced the word ‘pound’ primarily because it sounded much more pleasant.

Today, there are approximately 14,000 government-supported and independently operated animal shelters in the US. All of which are attempting to provide shelter, promote adoption, and control the population through neuter and spaying programs for about 7.6 million animals annually, 3.9 million of which are dogs. About 1.2 million dogs are euthanized annually. However, the no-kill movement started about 20 years ago and is responsible for saving a significant number of dogs and cats.

Please excuse the statistics, but it’s the only way for me to get your attention and impress upon you this straight-forward plea: If you are considering a dog for your family, please consider adopting from a shelter as opposed to purchasing from a breeder.

When adopting from a shelter, here’s my thoughts:

Before visiting a shelter, know what you are looking for in a dog. Do you have a large or small family? Are you looking for a pup…who’s going to clean up behind him until he is housebroken and trained? Who will be responsible for feeding, exercising, and training? Are you looking for a dog who is older and housebroken? Older dogs are more difficult for shelters to find a home for…but if the dog is older (2 years or more) you will know if he is healthy, and (most importantly) you will know his temperament. The older feller might be just the mutt for you!

When you visit a shelter for the first time, observe how well the grounds are maintained: is the grass cut, are shrubs trimmed, and windows cleaned?

Generally, when you walk into an animal shelter, be prepared: pandemonium breaks out. That’s the nature of the beast and it’s ok. However, are cages and enclosures clean, are floors mopped, and are odors controlled. Do you get a “good feeling” about how the dogs are cared for?

Do not be overwhelmed by the number of dogs. Take your time. Look at each dog individually, as opposed to a sweeping glance. Do not necessarily pick the loudest dog or the one you think is vying for your attention more than any other. To a great degree, what you see in the shelter, is what you will see at home. If you are looking for an aggressive, outgoing, controlling dog…then the one bounding against the gate and barking like an idiot, might be just the dog for you. But, if you are looking for a quiet lap dog, maybe consider the guy sitting in the back of the cage. Look at the expression of the dog. Are his hackles up or down, is his tail wagging or held low to the ground, are his ears back or forward, does he pee when you approach, or does he seek a pat on the head? Are his eyes clean? Are his nails clipped?

Size matters. Looking at pup’s feet will not tell how big he is going to be. Fact is, there’s loads of big dogs with small feet. A pup mixed with German Shepherd and Beagle may grow to the size of a German Shepherd…or a Beagle. So, if you are looking for a dog of size, consider an older dog.

If you see a dog you like, take him for a walk, a ride in the car, or sit under a tree in the city park and see how he reacts to squirrels, other dogs, kids on bikes, runners and other commotions. You will learn loads about his disposition when distractions abound.

If he has not been neutered (spayed, altered) you will be asked to have that done as soon as possible. However, be sure that you get a reasonable period in which you can return him if he does not fit into your family. Generally, you will not get a refund but can choose another pet.

If you are purchasing from a no-kill shelter, be prepared to get the once-over. You may have to answer personal questions about your lifestyle and they may want to visit your home to assess how they feel the dog will fit into your living conditions. Can you shoulder the scrutiny?

Finally, never purchase a dog as a gift, unless you are positive the recipient will be overjoyed and accept the pup with open arms.

In closing, I want to assure you that I fully and wholeheartedly endorse acquiring a dog from a shelter. However, it’s at least a 10-year obligation…an obligation that should be entered with commitment, compassion, and consideration for all who will be involved with caring for your newest family member.

Woof!!! John

John Preston Smith is the author of nine novels, all are listed at jprestonsmith.com. Questions or comments: facebook.com/johnprestonsmith. Proceeds support Hoops Family Children’s Hospital in Huntington, W.Va.


Point Pleasant Register, Column #2



Is there any other animal wired like a dog?

Is there any other animal wired like a dog?

By John Preston Smith – Contributing columnist


“Their single-minded devotion teaches us very clearly about unconditional love.” Unknown

Behind the house where I grew up, in my mind, our small backyard stretched to the horizon; a distance such that you could ride a horse into the ground before catching an hombre on the run. Back then, jumping from the back-porch steps and into the yard transported me from the age of seven/eight into a world of fantasy.

My first death was there, but not before I ‘kilt’ some of the meanest, low-down scoundrels in the West. Always, though, my sidekick Jeep, a Heinz special, black haired and medium built, stood by me. He knew though, there were times he would have to scamper for his life…depending on my supply of rubber-tipped arrows or plunger-tipped darts, because in that world of childhood fantasy, he was deemed anything from a wild boar to a diseased wolf.

My second dog, Taxi, endured every minute of my pain as a plains-drifting cowboy. Once, outlaws burst into my campsite, robbed and beat me, and then dragged me behind a horse by my feet along rutted forest paths, through rocky creek-beds, and burning coals. Through it all, Taxi, a black and white mutt born out of wedlock, licked my wounds and never left my side.

An old dilapidated shack at the end of the yard doubled as an oft-robbed bank, a fort surrounded by Indians, or a cabin on fire where distressed damsels awaited rescue. Silver, another dog of mixed ancestry, often played the part of the bad guy, the demon, or the bank robber on-the-run.

Death in the backyard was not only inevitable but it was dramatic. Being struck by imaginary bullets or arrows, I fell dead in rusted fencing, in piles of rain-soaked leaves, or draped across low-hanging limbs of an oft-climbed Maple tree.

Always, my dogs Jeep, Taxi, or Silver remained in the midst of my make-believe world. They were my fantasy friends come to life.

Today, I can still smell the pungent odor of the exploding caps that came through the barrel of my cap-gun. I can still taste the remnants of the powder that I sucked into my mouth and lungs. And I remember blowing that gray-colored smoke back into the air as if I were the toughest cowboy this side of Death Valley.

None of that, however, came to life without one of my dogs at my side. Each patiently listened as I planned every adventure, they jumped from the back-porch steps and into that fantasy world with the same excitement as I, and at the end of each day, I would sit on those same steps with one of my dogs snuggled at my side. I never considered that they didn’t understand me, or that they could not speak…in fact it was quite the opposite.

And then there was Chad. A dog of assorted ancestry with a coat that was a mixture of brown found in a freshly fallen acorn or the inner coat of a Grizzly cub.

In junior high school I attended summer Boy Scout entrapment at Camp Arrowhead where my scout master learned that I could not swim. And, reasoning that I might be the only member of BSA who did not know how, threw me into the deep end of the pool. As I flailed for my life, no one came to my rescue but my dog, Chad. Thankfully, I had been given permission for him to come with me to camp.

Will someone please explain this to me? My dog, untrained in the art of protecting the life of his master, even at the risk of death, belly busted into the pool fully intent on keeping me afloat. I know about wolves, from whence dogs descend. I know what the pack is willing to do for its leader, even unto death. True, my family became Chad’s pack the day we picked him up at the pound. But, knowing I was in peril, how did figure he needed to do something about it? Tell me, dear reader, is there any other animal wired like a dog?

I didn’t know, back then, that most of my future failures and accomplishments would end the very same as when I was a child…with one of my faithful and trusted canine companions at my side.

In high school, I passed the tests for a driver’s license. Let me tell you, I thought I was Mr. Cool behind the wheel. That is until the day mom asked me to take Chad to the vet. Anxious to drive, I loaded him into the car and then grabbed his collar and leash from the garage. When I came back to the car, just as I reached to open the door, Chad jumped on the automatic door lock. We just looked at each other. He on the inside. Me on the outside. I swear he knew where we were going and locked me out of the car on purpose. Okay, okay…I know you think I’m looney. But consider this, if he belly-flopped into the deep end of the swimming pool to save my life…could he not also have figured he didn’t want to be taken to the vet?

Surely, you’ve experienced something similar with your dog. Tell me about it.

Thanks for reading,


John Preston Smith is the author of nine novels, all are listed at jprestonsmith.com. Questions or comments can be sent to him at facebook.com/johnprestonsmith. Proceeds support Hoops Family Children’s Hospital in Huntington, W.Va.





Point Pleasant Register column #1

By John Preston Smith – Contributing columnist


Since 1963 I have trained over 14,000 dogs. All shapes and sizes. Some crazy, some not-so-crazy. Some with minor problems, some meaner than a teased rattler. Some docile, some aggressive.I’ve seen Dobbies that would snuggle across your lap as you watch the evening news, and Dachshunds that’d just as soon bite your ankle as take another breath.I’ve worked with fence-jumpers, fear and sneak biters, run-a-ways, car chasers, fighters, chicken killers, incessant barkers, boundary breakers, and dogs that would attack anything on two legs. I’ve trained with traditional methods, with psychology, and hypnosis.I’ve known dogs, without professional training, that would give their life for their master. I’ve heard of dogs that come between their master and mistress during an argument, during play-time, and even while lying in bed watching TV. Surely, you’ve also heard of this type of canine behavior.

I’ve trained dogs for the TV series “Movin’ On,” trained dogs to prevent break-ins at hotels, and trained them to protect Sisters of the Cloth. I’ve trained dogs for business security, for the disabled, and for personal protection.

I’ve seen dogs pine at the feet of a sick master, lie at the site of a buried friend, and refuse food until a lost litter-mate had been found.

Conversely, I’ve seen people spend thousands of dollars on a sick pet, talk to a dog as if it were human, and fix his every meal as if they were feeding the Pope.

I believe dogs to be mate-substitutes, empty-nest substitutes, and child substitutes. They are one of the reasons I believe in God. I’ve seen them do more for humans than humans do for humans. If the relationships, bonds, and friendships we have with others are our greatest assets, then too, a dog at our side is as immeasurable in value.

They help us stave off loneliness, fear, and need. They protect us from physical and mental aggressors. They remind us that food, water, and shelter is, in reality, plenty for anyone to be happy.

There are easily drawn parallels between dog and man. We share the fight against enemies and traitors, our charity for others is immeasurable, and we are quick to forgive those wishing us harm. We stand by our family and friends in prosperity and in failure…in sickness and in weakness…during happiness and loss. We deal with misfortune and danger to the best of our individual abilities.

We humans, though, have advantages…one of which is our memory, permitting us to relive bygone days with family and friends…but our dogs cannot.

In 2011, prior to writing of my novel, “The Bog, The Legend of Man’s Best Friend,” I ran a survey with 200 responses from 24 states, Canada, Belgium, UK, and France. Here are some tidbits from the respondents. (By the way, there are 43,346,000 households in the US. with an average of 1.8 households with a dog. That’s 78,022,800 dogs!) From the survey, 99 percent like dogs; 90 percent love dogs; 87 percent talk to their dogs; 98 percent believe dogs have emotions; 95 percent believe dogs make choices; 80 percent believe dogs are a gift from God; 75 percent believe dogs have a soul; 70 percent believe dogs go to heaven; 87 percent believe their world would be significantly changed if upon waking tomorrow there were no dogs. (I am particularly interested in your thoughts about the results of this survey.)

In the next few columns I will answer questions that eat at you about your dog. How was he chosen to be your best friend, does he possess a soul, how do you know when to let him go, where is his place of rest after death, will you ever see him again, what does he want when he licks your lips, and what are the two commands that will solve 95 percent of all canine problems? Where does the Bible stand regarding a hereafter for dogs? What does he think about, how does he handle time, and what are his three levels of attention?

Thanks for reading,


John Preston Smith, of Huntington, W.Va., is the author of nine novels, all are listed at jprestonsmith.com. Questions or comments can be directed to him at facebook.com/johnprestonsmith. Proceeds from his writings support Hoops Family Children’s Hospital in Huntington.

I saw you, Babe

I Saw You Babe, is my new CD of original songs and it is now available.  As a highlight, my son, Robert, joins me for Neil Young’s Long May You Run.  Your donation supports the Hoops Family Children’s Hospital.  Check it out:  http://www.jprestonsmith.com New cd cover for John.jpg

Here’s to Mom…

I was thinking today about writing a new book, entitled, The Legend of the Last Mom.  How would you feel if upon waking tomorrow there were no Mom’s…anywhere?  Of course, that’s just fantasy.  But I sure wish my Mom were still here, cause I miss her like mad.  So on this day of days, here’s to all the Mom’s…may you continue to watch over us as we fumble and bumble through this crazy and mixed up world.

We versus them!

So, folks like to compare dogs to humans…here’s my dog sleeping in a gutter in a dog pen that’s 10 by 30 feet.  Go figure! http://www.jprestonsmith.comIMG_4506


I was asked by my good friend John Preston Smith if I would read and review his latest book. I was honored at the request given by this amazing author, man and animal rights activist. John was instrumental in helping me with my book. Without his knowledge, encouragement and support I would have never pulled it off.
I just finished reading “The Legend of the Last Dog” and absolutely loved it. It is a voice for all abused animals and a wake-up call to all humans. Although this book is considered a fantasy or fiction I do believe that all spiritual people will find much truth in his message. Please don’t let the cover scare you as it did my Grandchild, sorry John, just being real.
It is a beautiful story told from a loving heart.

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