With better adoption prospects, Minnesota shelters see influx of dogs from across the U.S.

Tails thumping, barks echoing — 30 dogs that have spent nearly a full day in crates, in a van, on a journey from Mississippi to Minnesota, show their excitement when they reach their destination.

From the basement garage of the Animal Humane Society in Golden Valley, Minn., they’re headed for some vaccinations and a quick vet check before getting some relative peace and quiet.

“We’ll just let them chill,” said Dr. Graham Brayshaw, director of veterinary services at the Humane Society, before the dogs arrived earlier this month. “They have been in a vehicle for 20 hours. They’ve been having dogs bark and others around — they’re going to be stressed to high heaven. So we just want to give them a day to calm down, relax, get down to a normal, steady state.”

After that, there’ll be another vet check, a behavior evaluation — a spay or neuter operation if needed. And then within 10 to 14 days, they’ll be up for adoption.

The dogs are part of a growing pipeline of animals headed to Minnesota. Officials with the Animal Humane Society used to hear from about 70 shelters regularly trying to ship dogs to Minnesota. Now it’s about 230.

One factor is the end of pandemic-era renter protections and financial aid — as well as the waning of work-from-home policies that made it easier to care for animals at home. Experts say that’s meant more people surrendering their pets, doubling recent shelter counts in places like Austin, Texas.

National Public Radio reported earlier this summer that another reason is no-kill policies in place at more shelters — meaning more dogs in need of homes.

“I would say the no-kill movement in general, like many things, that comes from a really good place in someone’s heart, they want to see euthanasia avoided,” Brayshaw said. “But they don’t look at the whole picture. And don’t look at the unintended consequences of suffering that can really come with it.”

Consequences like chronic overcrowding, animal conflicts and dogs stuck in kennels for months, even years.

And Brayshaw said many people prefer small dogs, leaving shelters with disproportionate populations of large dogs that are harder to adopt out and harder to house.

As some shelters struggle with overcrowding and not enough people looking to adopt, they’re increasingly turning to Minnesota. Brayshaw said the situation in Minnesota is the opposite of what shelters are seeing elsewhere in the country.

“There’s an imbalance — there’s a lot more [people who] want to adopt than there are dogs to put in those homes,” he said. “If we don’t bring in from other shelters ... we are a capitalist society — things are going to find a way. People are going to sell puppies … then you do get puppy mills, and you do get animal cruelty that unintentionally can [be] involved in that.”

Other Minnesota shelters and rescue groups have doubled or even tripled their intake.

Secondhand Hounds in the Twin Cities typically takes in 50 to 75 dogs a week, usually about a third from Minnesota, and many from other states. Last week, executive director Rachel Mairose said, her organization took in 200. She said a tight labor market has shelters around the country short-staffed and pleading for help.

“There is a huge crisis. They’re overflowing,” she said. “On Saturday, during surrender day, there’s a line down the block. You know, its horrible.”

Mairose said animal rescues have to rethink adoption: To make it more affordable to more and diverse owners, to find ways to provide affordable veterinary care so people can keep their animals — and even deal with affordable housing so people and their pets have a place to stay.

The city of Minneapolis animal shelter, for example, is trying to reach more prospective pet owners by expanding its hours each Thursday until 7:30 p.m. starting next week.

Back at the Animal Humane Society in Golden Valley, for now, one part of the solution is the van backing into the garage — the final feet of a 1,200-mile, virtually nonstop road trip with dog crates stacked three deep. They’re packed in together like a big, barking Jenga puzzle.

They’re unloaded, weighed, vaccinated for distemper and kennel cough. Veterinary tech trainee Minna Stillwell-Jardine runs a comb through their fur right above their tails.

“That’s just checking for fleas. So any time that they do have fleas, when they come in, we give them medication right away,” she said.

After getting their quiet time, assessments and further health checks — Brayshaw said it’s just a matter of “get the right person matched up with the right dog and they’ll get the heck out of here.”

Hopefully, for good.