The following story was reported before the Hughes Fire in Castaic began. The animals at the Castaic Animal Care Center have since been evacuated and temporarily relocated to the Lancaster Animal Care Center. As of the publication of this story, the animals have yet to be returned to Castaic.
Around six months ago, a gentleman came into the Castaic Animal Care Center with two German shepherds. He wanted them euthanized. When he learned the center doesn’t do that, the man forfeited his dogs and was on his way. A few days later, four young adults who’d grown up down the street from those dogs, who knew those dogs well, came in to adopt them.
Valencia resident Lynn “Skeet” Wright, who’s a volunteer at the Castaic Animal Care Center, said he hates when people give up their animals like that. But he loves it when people adopt them. The story about the four young adults bringing those dogs back to their old neighborhood made him smile. He’ll take pictures of the animals with their new owners before they leave. Those pictures are for his own keeping.
“I retired about five years ago from Northrop Grumman,” he said earlier this month during an interview at the care center. “Everybody says, ‘Hey, in your golden years, go do things that you really want to do.’ I like animals, so …”
Wright, 71, works with the dogs at the Castaic Animal Care Center. He absolutely loves it. The worst part of the job, he said, is when a dog gets euthanized. Wright said every volunteer has a favorite dog at any given time. It’s always tough when a dog gets euthanized, but when it’s a favorite dog, it’s especially tough.
Wright, who treats his own pet — a 4-year-old female Doberman — like a member of the family, just doesn’t understand when someone gives up their animal to a shelter. To him, it’s like giving up a child.
And while he loves the shelter and does his best to make it as comfortable as possible for the animals, he compared it to a prison or juvenile hall.
“It’s really more of a clearinghouse,” he said. “It’s a miserable environment. It’s noisy all the time. No dog can relax. You can see it. Dogs with dandruff — that’s stress coming off of them. Many of them will become undernourished. They just won’t eat. That’s stress.”
Earlier this month, Wright demonstrated his daily routine at the shelter. He volunteers Monday through Wednesday each week there. He also shared his story about why he loves animals and why he volunteers.
On Thursdays, Wright volunteers at the La Brea Tar Pits as what he called a “floor interpreter,” offering information about, for example, the giant sloth. On Fridays, he donates his time at the Los Angeles Zoo, where he serves as a “carnivore docent,” sharing information with guests about meat-eaters. He also feeds and cleans up after the goats and the sheep there.
“There’s really nothing more relaxing,” he said, “than petting a goat for an hour when you really have nothing else to do.”
If that weren’t enough, Wright spends the first Saturday of each month as a docent at the Los Angeles Conservancy, a nonprofit organization that preserves and revitalizes the historic, architectural and cultural resources of L.A. County. He does the Angelino Heights house walking tour.
And finally, for good measure, he said he umpires for the William S. Hart Pony Baseball and Softball league. He’s in his 23rd year of doing that. He just likes to stay active.
“I learned a lot from my father, going, ‘I’m not going to do that,’” Wright said. “My dad never did anything after he retired. He just sat around, basically watched TV and read.”
Wright is of the belief that if you don’t do anything when you first retire, you get into the habit of just doing nothing.
Wright was born and raised in the San Fernando Valley. He came to the Santa Clarita Valley in 1988 because he could get more house with his money in this valley than in the other. But growing up, he always had a dog. At one point, he had a little white toy poodle. When he was a teen, he got a job at a place he called International Guiding Eyes, which trained guide dogs for those who are blind.
“Periodically,” he said, “dogs would wash out — they didn’t have what it took — so, I adopted one of those. And I had a little white toy poodle and a large black German shepherd. They actually became pretty good friends.”
But then Wright’s dad decided he didn’t want to deal with dogs anymore. Wright’s parents divorced and with that, the German shepherd had to go away. Wright said he was devastated. He’d tried to move out on his own so that he could keep the dog with him, but he couldn’t make it happen.
That certainly had an impact on him.
Wright would eventually get married and have a child. And he’d have a dog once again.
Of course, volunteering at the shelter gives him the opportunity to spend much time with dogs. He especially appreciates the days he can make a difference in a dog’s life.
One time, someone came into the shelter with a stray Belgian Malinois — a larger, squarely built worker dog that, Wright said, the military often uses. No one could get a leash on the animal.
“If you can’t get a leash on him, you can’t evaluate him,” he said. “He just winds up being classified as ‘rescue only.’ ‘Rescue only’ is bad, because that means that, as the name implies, only a rescue organization can adopt him.”
Wright said the dog wasn’t aggressive, rather he was fearful. But with time and patience, he got the dog to trust him. The dog would even roll onto his back and let Wright scratch his belly, which can be seen as the ultimate sign of trust.
Wright ultimately became the only person at the shelter who could get a vest on the dog, at which point he could put a leash on him.
“I think one of the biggest moments was when I tried to walk him into a play area,” he said. “He wouldn’t go. He just put his feet down. So, I got down. I said, ‘Come on, boy.’ We slowly worked our way in there. Once he got in the play area, of course I could unleash him and let him run around.”
Wright added that he never had trouble getting him in there again.
One day, someone came into the shelter and fell in love with the dog. This guy, Wright said, cared so much for the dog that he became classified as a rescue group just so he could adopt him. The guy brought the dog home and would later send over video of his young daughter playing with the animal.
“Saving that dog really meant a great deal to me,” Wright said. “It was a very special moment.”
But it was now time for Wright to get to work. He walked around to the back end of the dog kennel at the shelter, over to a dry-erase board mounted to the outside wall. On the board were about 40 names of dogs there. Some names were in green, some in red. Those dogs whose names were in red couldn’t be taken out, Wright said, meaning those dogs are either fearful or can’t be leashed.
Next, Wright logged the time on the board near to the name “Ozzie,” written in green. He grabbed a leash, and he marched about three-quarters of the way down the outside of the building to Ozzie’s cage. As Wright took Ozzie out and leashed him, the other dogs began to bark excessively.
“We’re trying to take out as many dogs as we can,” Wright said. “These dogs are in these cages 24 hours a day. The only time they come out is for 15 or 20 minutes. You get people going, ‘I could never do that.’ But somebody’s got to do it or nobody’s going to do it.”
The dogs know, Wright added, when neighbor dogs get to go out. He said he can’t prove it, but he truly believes dogs understand fairness.
“So, a dog goes out, and others are like, ‘What about me? I want to go out,’” Wright said. “What really gets them excited is if that dog’s gone out twice now. Yeah, they know. They know.”
Those dogs hanging back — like the ones watching Wright take out Ozzie — share their concerns by barking and barking and barking.
On a day that Wright volunteers, he’ll spend two to three hours taking dogs out. If people are looking to adopt, he’ll stick around and help the animals secure a new home. He said the dogs basically have 30 days at the shelter. Either someone comes to claim their lost pet or someone adopts.
Now, that doesn’t mean that if the dog doesn’t find a home in 30 days that he or she will be put down. But those dogs would be first in line to be euthanized if space is needed at the shelter.
Wright took Ozzie out to a gated play area on the shelter grounds and ran him around. He laid down with him, played with him, pet him, conversed with him. Wright gave commands and rewarded him with treats if he complied. It’s not clear whether Ozzie was having more fun than Wright.
After about 20 minutes out there, Wright returned Ozzie to his cage. Wright was on his way to take out another dog when he spotted a bull terrier named Bronson on his way out of the shelter. A gentleman named Bernardo Bonetto was taking the dog to a new home.
Wright asked if he could take a picture of the two, something he could retain on his cell phone after the dog had left.
Bonetto said he wasn’t the new owner. He was from Animal Resource Inc., transporting Bronson to a place in Palm Desert. But Bonetto and Bronson got along really well, and Wright documented it.
Christina, a 2-year-old Australian cattle dog mix, was also getting a new home that day. A volunteer was getting her ready as her new owner was in the front office filling out paperwork. Wright knelt down to speak with the dog.
“OK, good luck to you, sweetie,” he said to her. “I don’t want to see you come back.”
And with that, Wright said goodbye.
Then he was on his way to take out the next dog.
Know any unsung heroes or people in the SCV with an interesting life story to tell? Email [email protected].
