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Quentin the Miracle Dog

January 20, 2006, 12:0AM MT

By Michelle Buckalew

He was cast into a St. Louis city gas chamber in 2003 ...

He was cast into a St. Louis city gas chamber in 2003 ...

This homeless dog Quentin was to be euthanized with all the other unwanted or unclaimed dogs. It appeared the approximately one year-old Basenji mix Quentin had simply run out of luck -- and time.

He had been surrendered to the city shelter by a person who no longer wanted him. In the days following, he was a dog who had no one stepped up to adopt. That landed landed him at death's door....specifically the gas chamber door.

After putting several animals in the chamber, time elapsed and the supervisor returned. When the chamber doors opened and there was Quentin still alive amidst other dogs not so fortunate, the supervisor said to the shelter manager, 'Please, take him...I don't have the heart to put him back in there and re-gas him."'

This canine, who did miraculously live through the horror of the chamber, apparently had a destiny. This 30-pound, orange dog, the supervisor on duty at the time believed, beat the odds and should live on when she found him still alive....standing atop the other dead animals..

Enter Randy Grim....Randy Grim, founder and head of Stray Rescue of St. Louis, the humane shelter that would take in Quentin has retold this story many times and is grateful for Quentin every day of his life. Grinm is now Quentin's human and the love and bond they share is extremely special.

People should know that in gas chambers animals are put into the death chamber that is normally a little larger than a washing machine. Carbon monoxide is pumped in, killing the animals. The animals do indeed suffer when being killed by carbon monoxide-the stuff commonly found in vehicle exhaust.

The number of gas chambers in shelters in our country that are still in existence has been estimated to be in the hundreds. But, the exact number is still hard to come by because many of these shelters that employ this antiquated method are in rural areas and/or go unreported and unregulated. But, not all shelters who use this method are "rural or in the country." No, not by far.

Since living through the chamber in 2003, Quentin has not been resting on his laurels. He and Randy have been and still are on a heavy schedule of appearances that take them across the country continually to educate communities and their decision makers about the truth of gas chambers.

Most of our citizens and decision makers do not know of the horror involved with the antiquated chambers. As Randy says, "If we must euthanize(kill) healthy adoptable innocent companion animals which we shouldn't be doing anyway, at least we can do it humanely."

People inspired by Quentin's story can take the opportunity in their own communities to rescue and adopt an animal from their local shelter. If we adopt animals instead of purchasing them from breeders and pet stores, fewer animals will suffer and die as a result.

Adopting and spaying or neutering are simple actions we can all take to prevent the deaths of millions of other animals not as fortunate as Quentin. Eliminating gas chambers is essential.

Quentin and Randy have also written a book to help educate folks, Miracle Dog: How Quentin Survived the Gas Chamber to Speak for Animals on Death Row published by Alpine in April of 2005. It has received starred reviews and is available in bookstores and from Randy Grim's organization, Stray Rescue of St. Louis.

Randy Grim and Quentin have received the IDA Guardian Award and The Animal World Heart of a Hero Award.

Stray Rescue of St. Louis
Click Here

National Geographic2005 Story

by Michelle Buckalew

Comments

Posted April 28, 2006, 6:24PM by jkrause

Amazingly tragic story. Thank you for bringing this unfortunate (and unnecessary) to light. As Michelle said, I invite others to *do their part*
- Rescue and adopt an animal from a local animal shelter
- Spay and neuter!
- Write your legistlators

Posted May 03, 2006, 12:1PM by doggoneguy

I had to think long and hard about posting a comment about this subject as it requires baring my soul more than I am really comfortable with, but feel if it helps, I must.

As I stated in my Bio,when I was a little boy I spent many of my summers working in Bay City, Michigan for my Great Uncle who was a vet there. Please understand that this was over 50 years ago and while many things in our treatment of animals have changed, sadly, some things have not.

At the time, Bay City was a small town(and may still be..I haven't been back there since that time). My Great Uncle was a very kind man, with a great compassion for animals of all kinds, who survived the Great Depression and supported his family by trading food for the table for veterinary help with the local farm animals, as well as dogs, cats, etc. He would help a mare give birth to it's foal for a couple of chickens,or perhaps a basket of vegetables in lieu of cash...a commodity which was in short supply at the time.

My duties included being up before dawn every day to clean out the kennels and feed the dogs and cats he had taken in as strays or were victims of accidents that were left on his door. My first experience with surgery was walking out the front door to find an Irish Setter laying on the stoop, dying, with an arrow stuck in him.) You can imagine the panic I felt at six or seven years old as I ran upstairs to wake up my "Uncle".

He hurried down and we carried the poor dog to his crude operating room and I was told to shove my hand into the wound and stop the bleeding, hold clamps, gauze,etc. The whole time I was scared to death for the dog and trying to control myself.

I am happy to say that this dog survived and a home was found for him after he recovered, with a lot of help from the two of us. It was one of the proudest moments of my life. My Uncle found homes for many of the animals he took in, all of them as far as I knew, and several summers went by, one the same as the last.

Over all of them there was one rule that I was told to obey more than any other, that being to NEVER open the door to the small room in the back of the kennel. I did this despite my curiousity,which of course, all young boys have. And every once in a while, for no reason I could understand, my Uncle would tell me not to come into the kennnel that day to do my "work".

I would notice that for a day or two after, he was a different person...moody and depressed...and wishing to be left alone.
Finally a fateful day came which to this day I wish hadn't. My curiousity, you see had finally gotten the best of me, and I broke the RULE. I went into the kennel that I had seen my Uncle go into and he wasn't there. I heard a noise coming from the room in the back and opened the door....only to watch the final moments of the scene taking place there.

My Uncle was on the edge of tears as the last dog died in a steel cylinder with a glass window in it..a chamber like the one mentioned in this story. I saw the look on the dogs face as it was trying to suck air into its' lungs and then watched it fall.

I was too stunned to react, and too young to fully understand why he was doing this horrible thing, but my relationship with him was never the same and, within a few years he passed away.

Years later I talked to my mother about this and she told me the whole truth...that despite all his efforts and his giant heart, he just couldn't find homes for all the dogs and cats he took in and couldn't afford to feed them and simply had no room in his small kennel and therefore, no choice.

He hid this from me to save me from the horror of this deed that he had to perform, despite the fact that he didn't want to take the lives of the animals he loved. To those who would judge him too harshly, these were the days long before Best Friends, support groups, no

Posted April 28, 2006, 6:24PM by jkrause