The No-Kill Kids of Texas

How a group of children rescued the dogs of their town and taught us all a lesson in compassion and dedication.

From Best Friends magazine

By Jim and Claire Davis

The first blizzard of the year is expected tonight, and the wind and cold are already here.

The expected donation of bedding didn't come through - turns out, the farmer hasn't been returning calls because he is gravely ill. The regular delivery of donated food also didn't make it, blocked by the storm.

Last night, the winds tore the food shed loose and blew it over the 10-foot fence. Most of the food reserve was destroyed by the rain.

And a neighbor stopped by to inform Mark Trull that it was evil to save dogs whom people had cast aside, and to tell him he was going to Hell because he dared to teach children that the lives of dogs are valuable.

To say the least, it has been a bad day.

But then...

A second farmer is found to supply bedding. Just as Mark's wife, Diane, is preparing to pay for the bedding from her personal checkbook, the farmer says he would like to give it as a donation. Turns out he had a cherished dog who just died.

An army of children shows up, finished with school for the day, wrapped from head to toe in winter clothing, and ready to work. The children take turns - some staying warm in the old barn while ripping open tiny "sample" bags of food, others braving the weather to deliver food, bedding, and water to the animals. By the end of the long night, the boys and girls are exhausted, but bursting with pride - because of them, all the dogs are warm, well fed, and safe for the night.

It is inspiration mixed with despair. Heartbreaking disappointments balanced by heartwarming dedication.

Twelve-year-old volunteer Molly Kruse would say, "It's all in God's plan."

Put simply, it is just a day in the life of the kids and adults who run the Dalhart Animal Welfare Group and Sanctuary (DAWGS), a dog sanctuary that in two years has saved nearly 1,400 lives.

"Why do the dogs have to die?"

The story of the sanctuary begins nearly two years ago in the tiny town of Dalhart, Texas - population 7,500.

Isolated in the Texas panhandle, Dalhart is a classic Texas cow town. The road leading into it is bordered on both sides by massive stockyards, extending for miles and containing cattle about as far as the eye can see. With a quaint downtown and a religious fervor demonstrated by its 34 churches, Dalhart's claim to fame is an annual rodeo event that features the world's largest free barbecue.

Two years ago, tiny Dalhart was killing 600 dogs a year at the city pound.

Diane Trull was a fourth-grade reading teacher at Allyn Finch Intermediate School, and used the local newspaper as a teaching tool. Included within the newspaper was a regular feature with photographs of dogs at the pound.

"What happens to the dogs if they aren't adopted?" a child asked one day.

Diane was honest. If they weren't adopted, they were killed.

"Why do the dogs have to die?" asked another. Diane explained that this was society's solution to pet overpopulation.

Then came the question.

The question that would radically alter the lives of Diane and her family. The question that would inspire dozens of children, and give a second chance at life to thousands of dogs.

"Can't we do something about it?"
And do something, they did
Once the question was in the air, Mark saw the evolution of the sanctuary as inevitable.

"I think in life you have these defining moments," Mark says. "The linchpin was when the kids asked if they could do something. We couldn't walk away from that."

For Mark and Diane, the sanctuary has always been as much about the children as the dogs.

"Once we were asked by the kids, we couldn't say 'No,' because that would perpetuate the idea that they can't make a difference in the world," Mark recalls. "Looking at it from a child's perspective, saying you did the best you could and that nothing better could be done is not an acceptable answer."

Thus began DAWGS.

For nearly two years, the children of Dalhart have worked day in and day out to prove the dogs don't have to die, that there is a better solution to pet overpopulation, and that they can make a difference.

The results have been nothing short of remarkable. Dalhart became a no-kill town virtually overnight. DAWGS has saved approximately 1,400 dogs from death at the city pound, and placed more than 1,000 into permanent homes. On a daily basis, a small band of adults leads scores of children to take care of about 300 dogs.

Mark and Diane admit that when they started, they were naive. Mark built about a dozen kennels, and they thought that would do it.

"I had no clue what we were getting into," recalls Diane. "I had no idea they were putting down 600 dogs a year in a town this size."

So Mark built 10 more kennels. And 10 more. And 10 more...

The DAWGS population grew quickly, as Mark and Diane insisted on teaching that compassion shouldn't be saved for only the young and the beautiful.

"The whole process was setting an example to the kids," says Mark.

With the exception of a handful of dangerous dogs and a couple who were too ill to be saved, DAWGS has taken in every other homeless dog found in Dalhart - purebreds and mutts, young and old, homely and lame, sick and injured.

As the DAWGS mission statement says, they believe that "All dogs are equal . . . and each one has a special gift to give."
If it can happen here, it can happen anywhere

Nothing has come easily for DAWGS. The sanctuary has faced some of the worst of what both Mother Nature and human nature have to offer.

To begin with, Dalhart is an unlikely - and in many ways, inhospitable - location for an animal sanctuary.

The weather poses a constant challenge. In spring there are torrential rains, hailstorms, and powerful windstorms. Summer brings suffocating heat and humidity. Fall brings more wind and rain. And then comes winter, with its snow and frigid temperatures.

But no matter the weather, the children show up for daily chores. And the entire Trull family - Mark, Diane, and their children, Katie and Tyler - frequently leave their beds in the middle of the night to respond to weather-related emergencies.

And the social climate of Dalhart isn't much more welcoming.

Before DAWGS, the tiny town was killing 80 dogs a year for every 1,000 residents - more than four times the national rate for dogs and cats combined. Spaying or neutering was rare, dogs wandering the streets a common sight.

Many in Dalhart did not look favorably upon the prospect of change.

The children say they still encounter adults who are scornful of their efforts, and who disregard their plea to be responsible pet owners.

"Sometimes I want to say to people, 'You're the reason we have the shelter. You don't spay and neuter your dogs,'" says Molly, a hint of anger creeping into her voice.

Fellow sixth-grader Kali Williams reflects horror as she recalls some of the callous behavior she has seen.

"There have been people who came out to the shelter and said, 'Take this dog or I'm going to shoot it,'" she whispers.

Dealing with the ugly side of human nature is a challenge for the DAWGS children, all of whom are unfailingly polite - full of "Yes ma'ams," or "No sirs" - and respectful of their elders. It is also a challenge for the adults who supervise them.

"I think that probably is the hardest thing for me," Diane says. "It isn't the hard work, it isn't dealing with these kids and all these dogs, it's dealing with that piece of humanity that is so horrible, and trying to explain to kids why people are like that, and that it isn't OK that they are like that, and please don't be like that [yourselves]."

Buying dreams on a shoestring budget

But somehow, the sanctuary has managed to overcome all obstacles, despite having few resources.

DAWGS is located on a small plot of city land that is hardly the ideal site for a dog sanctuary. Situated between a cemetery and a shooting range, the parcel has a few rundown buildings that formerly functioned as a slaughterhouse.

Most of the initial enterprise was funded from Mark and Diane's personal money, although since then they have received some outside support.

A Texas company, Merrick Corporation, now donates most of their dog food; they receive some help from local businesses; the nearby prison sends occasional work crews; Mormon missionaries assist routinely; and many local people contribute food and supplies. Several fundraisers have also netted modest returns.

"There are lots of wonderful people out there who truly get it and truly love animals," Diane says.

DAWGS got a taste of national fame in 2003 when they received a Distinguished Guardian Award from California-based In Defense of Animals. The award also connected the sanctuary with several donors, including one person who has frequently come through when the need has been the greatest.

Even so, the DAWGS budget has always been tight, and the Trulls concede that their facilities are makeshift and "somewhat embarrassing."

"Sometimes we wonder what all of this would be like if we had the desire of our kids, and the resources to do it right," Mark says.
The future through children's eyes

The determination that powers DAWGS is striking.

Diane typically teaches until about 4 p.m., then rounds up the kids and works at the sanctuary for several hours before going home to answer e-mails and write thank-you's until early in the morning. Mark recently took a six-month leave of absence from his job as a corporate recruiter in order to work at the sanctuary full-time. Katie, now 21, is taking a break from college to devote all of her time to the dream.

And through all the ups and downs, the kids keep coming. Some are casual volunteers, while for others it is a central part of their lives. A dedicated core of students from the original fourth-grade class remains, and new children come to the sanctuary all the time.

But Mark and Diane realize they need to do more than just continue what they've been doing.

"Up until now, all we have done is build pens and worry about getting enough food and shelter," Mark says.

Their first priority is to reduce the number of dogs. Last winter, the sanctuary held just over 100 dogs, and now there are more than 300, including about 100 puppies.

Toward this end, Mark and Diane are cultivating resources to move the dogs outside of the area. They already do adoptions at the PETsMART in Amarillo, and transfer many dogs to shelters in other states. But they need more help.

They also recognize that they must address dog overpopulation in the area. Over the past few months, with fewer dogs roaming the streets and breeding, the number coming in to DAWGS has dropped significantly. Still, Mark and Diane know that the next step has to be an aggressive spay/neuter program.

They also hope to mount a significant fundraising campaign, so they can improve their facilities and turn the sanctuary into a model program, where children of all ages can learn the value of compassion toward animals.

"We want to plant the seeds of change through the kids," Mark says.
Children's spirit sets the tone

A visit to the sanctuary demonstrates that DAWGS is helping to shape a remarkable group of children.

Angelic-looking young girls pass by cheerfully, cleaning pens, walking dogs, and lugging 50-pound bags of feed. Many would be right at home in cheerleading outfits or fancy dresses, but instead, they are wearing work clothes and boots up to their knees to protect them from the muck and mud.

Working side by side with them are the hard-working, eager-to-please boys, whose stoic expressions barely hide their deep desire to belong to something that matters.

And there's a handful of dedicated adult volunteers, such as Leslie Bullard, who comes to the sanctuary regularly with her daughters, Kelsey and Kaelyn.

"This is my sanity and peace," says Leslie, aware of the irony as she speaks amid the din of barking dogs. She recalls that when she needed help recently, the Trulls were quick to provide it. "I was told, 'You're family.'"

Indeed, the overall atmosphere of the sanctuary is one of family. The dogs are the "babies," while many of the kids see Mark and Diane as their second parents, and Katie as their much beloved big sister.

For many of these kids, daily hard work has taken the place of the usual childhood diversions, such as playing video games and watching television.

Not that the DAWGS kids don't have well-rounded lives - Mark and Diane make sure that they don't skimp on the important things. Homework and chores have to be finished before they can come to the sanctuary, most take Sunday mornings off to go to church with their families, and many play on school athletic teams.

But most of the rest of their time goes to the dogs. To them, the reason for this dedication is obvious.

"Dogs don't deserve to die if there's nothing wrong with them," says sixth grader Alix Allen.

The children are clearly inspired by the leadership of Diane, Mark, and Katie, but that works both ways. Whenever they get emotionally and physically drained, the Trulls find the strength to continue from the kids.

Like Jesse Brunmeier, a fifth-grade boy who lives with his grandmother. Throughout last year's harsh winter, Jesse, armed with plenty of questions and opinions, was always by Mark's side at the sanctuary. This winter, Jesse has stepped up again, filling in one day to finish the feeding when almost everybody -including Mark and Diane - was debilitated by the flu.

Quitting is simply out of the question as long as kids like Jesse, Molly, Alix, Kali - and dozens of others - are determined to continue.

"Sometimes you come home in tears and ask, 'What are we going to do?' And then the next day is a better day, and you just keep going," says Diane. "Because if you don't, what is going to happen to all those dogs, to all those kids?"

Indeed, sometimes Mark and Diane (pictured at right)stand in awe of the children's resilient spirit.

Like one awful day last year, when the children returned from a spaghetti dinner fundraiser to discover that someone had broken into the sanctuary and killed several puppies. It's something Mark and Diane wish the children had never had to see. But the children didn't let the sadness overwhelm them.

They buried the puppies. They cried their tears. They held hands and said their prayers. And then, they got back to work.