Today someone forwarded to me this video from Upworthy:
“When Their Sad Ads Stopped Working …” The story is one of an animal
shelter that re-tuned its message from that of rescue (i.e., save animals in distress) to be rescued. The brilliant Human Walking Program brought 5,000
people out of their offices at the lunch hour to walk and get to know the dogs. According to the video, the health benefit (exercise,
time away from the desk) was compounded by exposure that changed people’s
perceptions about shelter dogs.
And every single dog was adopted!
We are bombarded every day by well-meaning messages that
convey distress and provoke fear. The distress is real, and worthy of our
consideration and compassion. But these days it takes a lot to shake people out of the general sense of
helplessness that we feel—or, at certain points, the sense of being overwhelmed
by the sheer number of issues and causes that need our support.
So what happens? We become highly reactive. When these
challenges strike closer to home, we become involved. If a friend asks for our
help, we try to be generous. We continue family traditions. And otherwise, it
takes a lot to tug at our heartstrings … or, more specifically, at our wallets.
That’s how the Human Walking Program worked. The benefits
were real: Get out from behind the desk? Great! Get a chance to connect with an
energetic animal, no strings attached? Terrific! Get some exercise in the
process? What could be better?!
There was a benefit to the participant that went beyond
simply feeling good about giving. There was mutuality; a sense of both give and
take. This goes far beyond money, which is why I chose the word “participant.”
It is about putting oneself on the line. It’s how marathons, bicycle races and
walks became huge fund raising opportunities.
I am writing about this, however, because the mutuality in
this story transcends even that kind of generosity of body and spirit. The two
parties engaged together: the dogs gave something to the walkers, and the
walkers gave something back. And, they did so on their own terms: some walkers
became dog owners, and others did not.
This profound example may not apply to every nonprofit
institution, but it is worthy of our consideration. Yes, sad caged animals that
have been horribly abused and neglected compel our horror and empathy. But who
would have thought that those poor, sad dogs could also be experienced as
“exceptionally attractive”? And isn’t that a wonderful outcome?
