Holiday Heroes: Making dogs more adoptable

Now, the sweet-tempered beagle hound scoots herself forward, eagerly nudging those fingers extended into her cage, and, when removed from her confines, contentedly accepts love from a petting hand.

Audrey came from a “kill” shelter — an animal shelter that euthanizes.

But she currently resides at the “no-kill” shelter PAWS Atlanta in Decatur, where she learned to socialize and trust, skills she absorbed from Jean Haworth.

Haworth, one of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s Holiday Heroes, has volunteered at PAWS for six years. Three days a week for several hours each day, she walks the hallways of the 4 ½-acre property, cheerfully ignoring a cacophony of barking, sidestepping neon yellow flea dip solution shaken onto the floor by a cranky canine and always stopping to chat — both with fellow volunteers and employees at PAWS, but mostly with the animals.

“There’s Skye, my girlfriend,” she coos to another beagle hound. Skye also used to back away from people, but now rushes up to greet a stranger, tail wagging spiritedly.

Haworth, 61, isn’t quite a dog whisperer — though she cops to watching a lot of Cesar Millan shows — but she does have an innate connection to their mental state. She primarily works with dogs who need training or socialization to improve their chances of adoption. (PAWS also houses adoptable cats in a separate cottage and offers low-cost spaying and neutering and vaccines on-site.)

“My firm belief is that the more the ‘special’ dogs are talked about and the more people they meet, the more likely their adoption,” said Haworth, who used to be involved in the world of competitive dog sports.

She typically works with six to eight dogs at a time, spending 20 minutes or so a day with each one, particularly with those that might not be as easily placed because of age or behavioral needs. She walks them around the premises, introduces them to stairs and, if necessary, employs some light obedience training.

With skittish dogs, she uses a few key guidelines: Allow the animal to come to you, don’t come at them. Don’t stare at them. And follow your gut instincts when it’s time to interact.

One of her current charges, Salem, is what Haworth calls a “real adoptable dog.” The 2-year-old black-and-white hound with soft chestnut eyes gratefully swallows a treat handed to her from Haworth from the fanny pack she keeps around her waist.

Salem used to be leash-shy and a “talker.” But now the young dog bops around quietly and happily, never trying to slip her leash and also never taking her eyes off Haworth.

But it isn’t only the animals that sense Haworth’s specialness.

“I wish I could clone her,” Nancy Longacre, executive director of PAWS, said of her loyal volunteer. “That she’s been coming for six years, that’s a tremendous commitment. She can know more about the animals than the staff because she spends so much one-on-one time with them. It’s a huge service to the adopters, having someone like Jean who can talk to them about a certain dog, otherwise [potential adopters] might not have paid attention to the dog at all … Jean cares deeply about the animals.”

Haworth — who has four border collies of her own — admits it can be emotionally gutting to say goodbye to a longtime furry student.

“One left in September that I had worked with for three years. He had skin issues. When he went [to a new] home, I lost it,” Haworth said, pausing to sigh and then smile. “Ziggy. But he’s in a great home now.”

Haworth has another reason to smile as well.

A few days ago, Audrey found a home.