The debate about no-kill animal sheltering

I’ve loved animals for as long as I can remember — frogs, turtles, fish, birds, dogs, cats, and horses. But even as a kid, I noticed how they were treated and quietly questioned it. I was that child standing at the grocery store tank, staring at lobsters with their claws bound, wondering how this could possibly be acceptable.

I still remember first learning about animal rights organizations and feeling that these were my people. Their work caught my attention back then and bolstered my own growing conviction about our responsibility to treat animals humanely. They exposed horrific cruelty in laboratories, factory farming, the fur industry, and circuses.

Their campaigns were often attention grabbing, but their work on behalf of the voiceless bolstered my sense of justice and compassion and left an imprint that would stay with me.

Little did I know then that some of the organizations whose work resonated so strongly with me would be adamantly opposed to the idea that we shouldn’t be killing dogs and cats in shelters. I’d find that out firsthand when I began a career that would lead me to saving pets in shelters — and further away from what some animal rights organizations and individual supporters believed.

It began when, after more than two decades in parks and recreation municipal leadership, I accepted the position of director at an animal shelter in Virginia. I walked in believing that ending an animal’s life was a last resort, reserved only for animals who were suffering beyond help.

What I discovered broke my heart: Death was the default, and staff had to justify every single life they saved. The sadness and detachment that came with this way of doing business permeated the culture and morale. That was the moment my career became about changing what an animal shelter should be.

We stopped doing things the old way and began to examine every process and policy. What needed to change so pets could stay with their families or leave our shelter alive? We didn’t take humane euthanasia off the table when it was necessary, but we committed to stop killing healthy pets and those with treatable issues. In time, we began to save 90% of the animals we took in — which I learned was the commonly accepted benchmark known as “no-kill.”

I also discovered that some animal-rights advocates reject the idea of companion animals altogether and oppose the no-kill approach. It was a painful realization that not everyone working for animals shares the same vision for their lives.

It was when I moved to Austin, Texas, that I learned how harmful people and organizations can be when they see an animal shelter where the staff struggle to save pets’ lives, and instead of pitching in to help, they throw stones, actively undermine lifesaving efforts, and blame an entire movement.

I’d recently become chief animal services officer in Austin, Texas — the nation’s largest no-kill community at the time. While it’s true that they were saving at least 90% of dogs and cats they took in, there were still pets being killed for lack of space in the shelter. There was still work to be done. Every decision became about doing the right thing for the right reason because each animal’s life mattered. When we stayed focused on that, the data told the story.

[More on what no-kill means]

During my tenure in Austin, there were people actively working to undermine our lifesaving efforts. They reached out to city council members, questioning everything from staff salaries to operational procedures. Their goal was clear: Confuse and confound elected and appointed leaders, weaken their confidence in a no-kill approach to animal services, and erode support.

It tied me up for hours responding to unfounded complaints and helping city leaders understand that some animal rights organizations don’t support the concept of people keeping animals as pets.

By the time I left Austin, the save rate had climbed to more than 95% — thousands of lives saved and a community that proved what no-kill could look like. Meanwhile, the reaction from detractors made me profoundly sad. The irony of coming full circle — from a young person inspired by an animal rights organization’s early work to a leader fending off their efforts to stop programs that save animals’ lives — was not lost on me.

Today, as the national advisor for no-kill advancement at Best Friends, my work is about taking what I have learned — and continue to learn — and supporting the people doing the work in communities around the country.

So I’d like to address what no-kill does and does not mean to clear up confusion.

No-kill is a commitment to saving every healthy or treatable dog and cat and prioritizing their quality of life. The goal is keeping pets with their families whenever possible or moving them quickly into new homes through adoption, foster care, or transfer to rescue partners.

It means shelters using a triage practice that helps decide when an animal truly needs to enter the shelter and when other resources — temporary foster care, food assistance, veterinary help, behavior support — can keep them safe in their home or community.

Despite our best intentions and efforts, an animal shelter is not the best place for a healthy pet. They can be exposed to illness, and the environment can be stressful, full of strange sounds, sights, and smells. No pets should lose their lives just because a building is full.

No-kill does not mean warehousing animals or ignoring public safety. It does mean operating fiscally and ethically responsibly. Helping people keep their pets, find them a new home, or transfer them to a rescue group is less costly in the long run than housing them in a shelter and killing them when resources run out.

When done right, no-kill is a holistic lifesaving approach: keeping pets with the families who love them; using data to make decisions; triaging potential shelter admissions; matching resources to needs; offering programs like low-cost spay/neuter, food pantries, and behavior help; and moving pets quickly into homes through adoption, foster care, or rescue transfer.

It’s destructive and unhelpful that critics try to frame no-kill as a problem when the facts tell a very different story. The reality is that some shelters are still evolving and may not have every program fully in place — but that is progress in motion, not failure.

Instead of blaming the no-kill philosophy when challenges arise, we should be helping those shelters succeed. Too often, detractors point to organizations struggling with lifesaving changes as proof that no-kill “doesn’t work.” Casting blame does nothing to save lives.

No-kill is about partnership, not punishment. When we lean in — offering expertise, mentorship, and resources — we build stronger shelters, healthier communities, and better outcomes for pets and people.

No-kill is not just possible; it is already happening in two-thirds of animal shelters across the country. The question is no longer if we can achieve no-kill in every community, but whether we will help the rest of the shelters get there — or will we sit back, pointing out challenges and becoming part of the problem while dogs and cats lose their lives because of our inaction.

Each day is another chance to choose lifesaving, to choose compassion, to choose partnership. Together, we can create a future where every pet who can be saved is saved — and where no dog or cat dies simply because they didn’t have a safe place to call home.

This article was originally published in the November/December 2025 issue of Best Friends magazine. Want more good news? Become a member and get stories like this six times a year.

Our goal at Best Friends is to support all animal shelters in the U.S. in reaching no-kill. No-kill means saving every dog and cat in a shelter who can be saved, accounting for community safety and good quality of life for pets. 

Shelter staff can’t do it alone. Saving animals in shelters is everyone’s responsibility, and it takes support and participation from the community. No-kill is possible when we work together thoughtfully, honestly, and collaboratively.