Study finds retention rates are similar regardless of adoption venue—and adoption coordinators say it’s because they screen carefully no matter where the process occurs

© Cris M. Kelly The location where this cat was adopted—whether at an off-site event or directly from the shelter—will have little effect on how long she remains with her new family, according to a recent study.

If you can’t get the people to the pets, bring the pets to the people—that’s often the philosophy behind mobile adoption vans, storefront adoption centers, and other off-site venues. Especially for shelters stuck between the landfill and the county jail, off-site events provide a rare chance to see and be seen in more scenic and people-friendly parts of the community.

But some directors and managers have long questioned whether animals adopted from outside the shelter are more likely to be relinquished, fearing that people who venture out to the local mall to buy only a shirt or a bag of kibble may end up leaving with a lot more than they’re prepared to care for.

The phenomenon of the “drive-by” pet adoption may be less problematic than previously believed, however; a recent study published in the Journal of Applied Animal Welfare Science found that the location of an adoption—whether it’s a shelter, an adopt-a-thon, or a weekly off-site event at the local pet supply store—appeared to have no effect on retention rates of furry adoptees.

In “Companion Animal Adoption Study” (Vol. 5, No. 3, 2002), Laura Neidhart and Renee Boyd surveyed adopters of pets from the Arizona Humane Society, the Animal Humane Association, a local “Adopt-a-thon 1999,” and a PETsMART Luv-a-Pet location. Four out of five respondents reported they still had their companions one year after initially adopting them, and significant differences in retention were based on factors unrelated to location: Animals older than one year were more likely to be relinquished, as were animals adopted for a child or grandchild.

The findings are not a surprise to many adoption counselors and volunteers who have ventured into new territories with their animals—mainly because, they say, it’s possible to build safeguards into the off-site adoption process that help curb impulsive decisions.

“We take it very seriously, so the adoption counseling and screening process is the same on mobile adoptions as it is at the shelter,” says Gigi Bacon Theberge, director of marketing and public relations for the San Diego Humane Society in California. “It is a thorough conversation between the counselor and the adopter, so for a lot people who might be adopting on impulse, they’re going to kind of have a wake-up call there.”

Some shelters such as Fort Wayne Animal Care and Control incorporate 24-hour waiting periods into their off-site adoptions, allowing interested people to fill out applications and receive counseling on the spot—but requiring them to visit the shelter the next day if they are still interested.

“When someone puts an animal on hold, they go home with a business card and a sheet that talks about, ‘Are you sure you’re ready to adopt? Let’s make sure your lifestyle suits this type of animal,’ ” says Allison Miller, Fort Wayne’s adoption program supervisor. “I think even the impulse adopter is going to realize that [a spur-of-the-moment decision] is not a good idea because of the way we counsel.”

Besides, says Aileen Gabbey, executive director of the Maryland SPCA, so many of the passersby who end up adopting are people who have already been itching for a pet. “Almost everybody I talked to said, ‘We’ve been meaning to get a dog,’ ‘We’ve been researching getting a cat,’ ” she recalls, referring to an off-site event she helped organize. “Or a lot of what I heard was, ‘My animal just died, and I think I’m ready.’ ”

Sometimes off-site events lead to the kind of fateful stare-across-the-crowded-room introductions that happen only spontaneously—but the instant connection with an individual animal doesn’t mean the desire to adopt is itself impulsive. In San Diego, one couple who showed up at Borders to shop for books ended up spotting a dachshund at the San Diego Humane Society’s “Doggie Café” outreach event. The dachshund was old and had a heart condition, but the match couldn’t have been better—the couple already had a dachshund mix at home and the husband worked in the cardiology department of the local hospital. “So it was the ideal kind of situation,” says Bacon Theberge.

More than anything, off-site adoptions are a community relations vehicle, Bacon Theberge adds. “For us, mobile adoptions are really a way to get out in the community and show people that these are the animals that we have and really be able to teach them about the programming,” she says. “Once people hear about the things we do with the animals, then see the quality of animals, that’s still surprising to a lot of people ... so when they are ready, they come to us.”

Even though Gabbey and her staff were initially concerned that off-site events would lead to too much spontaneity in the adoption decision, they discovered ultimately that for the most part, the opposite was true—and that staff could control outcomes through careful screening. The efforts have been worth it, helping the Maryland SPCA stretch its influence far beyond its four walls.

“Even though we’ve got a really nice facility, there are still people who are almost afraid to come here, people thinking it’s still sad, or people afraid they’ll see 50 dogs and 50 cats and feel so guilty that they can’t take them all home,” Gabbey says. “Some people can’t handle it, and I can totally understand that. We can’t expect people to come to us. We’ve got to make an effort to bring [ourselves] out into the community.”