January 2, 2009: This organization is apparently inactive. Donations to the organization have not been returned nor acknowledged; complaints have been filed with the state of Florida and the Better Business Bureau. Even so, do consider adopting a deaf dog today.
This article originally appeared at i711.com.
I avoid www.deafdogs.org like the plague.
Otherwise, I end up having a broken heart because I can’t adopt all of the dogs on this site.
Page after page shows pictures of gorgeous, photogenic, lovable dogs – all deaf and needing homes. Every year, thousands of dogs are killed because they’re deaf, and this pulls at my heart. Maybe it’s because I’m Deaf, or maybe it’s because I have a weak spot for all furry creatures, or maybe it’s just the basic idea that someone (or an animal) would be discarded simply because of the inability to hear.
The website is run by Deaf Dog Education Action Fund (DDEAF), a nonprofit, educational organization based in California, incorporated in 1997. DDEAF is “dedicated to provide support and information to deaf dog owners around the world who, thanks in part to the Internet, were discovering that they were not alone,” the DDEAF website says.
As someone who shares a house with a deaf dog, I first learned about deaf dogs years ago when I was surfing the Internet. When I saw the DDEAF website, I immediately wanted to adopt a deaf dog, but I already had a 75-pound dog and was living in an apartment that only allowed dogs up to 40 pounds. I promised myself that when I moved to a house, I’d get another dog, a deaf dog. Meanwhile, I checked the site every week, bemoaning all the adorable dogs staring at me from my computer screen.
Then fate smiled upon me. I got an e-mail from a woman in Atlanta who had seen my name on some deaf dog list. She asked if I’d be interested in adopting seven-month-old Malcolm, who was hours away from being euthanized because he was deaf. I immediately said yes, especially after seeing pictures. My mother agreed to take Malcolm in until I could take him; Malcolm was brought to Chicago via a dog run – when people drive dogs from one point to another, and then transfer the dogs to another person who then drives the dogs another distance, until each of the dog is transported to the final destination. It’s a remarkable service. Malcolm came into my life in August 2002. As I write this more than four years later, Malcolm is happily chewing on rawhide next to his best friend, Isre.
