Taking Philly shelter dogs on field trips wrecked me, and I can’t recommend it enough

I was singing along to Dr. Dog while driving to the city’s animal shelter Monday when the lyrics “We’ll get away from the shelter” came up and sucker punched me right in the tear ducts.

The song isn’t even about animals and I wasn’t close to the shelter yet, but I was already a mess.

I’d recently received a news release from Sarah Barnett, executive director of the Animal Care and Control Team of Philly (ACCT Philly), about how a grant from VCA Charities helped them get a new play yard and revamp their program, Philly Pupventures, which allows people to take dogs out for a few hours or a whole day.

“Dogs in shelters spend an average of 23 hours a day in kennels,” the release said, tearing at my heart like it was a chew toy. “Pupventures provide both mental and physical benefits.”

I pitched a column about the program to my editor and when he greenlit this story, I felt very proud of myself for figuring out a way to hang out with dogs for work.

I arrived at ACCT five minutes before it opened. There were at least seven people already in the intake line waiting to drop off stray animals or surrender pets.

How does the staff do this every day? How do they see this every day? I thought.

As Philly’s only open-intake shelter, ACCT is required by their city contract to accept all unwanted animals. Last year, they took in more than 20,000 animals and this year, they’re averaging 22 dogs alone each day. ACCT can comfortably house 110 dogs, more with crates, but then disease and staffing resources can become issues.

“There’s no another organization in the city that has that legal obligation,” Barnett told me. “We’re here as the city’s triage center for animals with nowhere else to go.”

Joined by my colleagues Esra Erol on video and Jessica Griffin on photos (because I know you’re here for the dog visuals and not just my wordy words), we made our way through the labyrinth-like North Philly facility to the foster care room.

Foster coordinators Brooke Fertig and Kelsey Strehlau went over the Pupventures program with us. Every dog we took out had been on a test run to make sure they were friendly. We could take them anywhere on a leash, except for dog parks, and if for some reason these pupperonis did Houdini their way out of our clutches, their collars were equipped with GPS trackers.

We were given a black backpack with white letters on it that said: “WE ARE ON A FIELD TRIP. YOU CAN ADOPT THIS DOG. (IT’S OKAY TO BE EXCITED).” Inside was everything we needed — dog treats, poop bags, a dog seat belt, and a bedsheet to cover my car seat. On the backpack was a key-chain with a QR code that led to online “report cards.” We were asked to detail what we did, how the dogs behaved, and their personality traits in order to help them get adopted.

“Anything that you notice that’s special about the animal, anything that can kind of help shape a backstory,” Fertig said, “because in many cases a lot of our dogs are strays, so we don’t have a lot of a backstory on them.”

Dear Lord. Not only do these dogs not have homes, some of them don’t even have stories? Keep it together, Stephanie, I said to myself. You are a professional.

Our first Pupventure buddy was Rainbow, a 7-month-old brindle pit bull mix who was found wandering in nearby Greenmount Cemetery. The foster coordinators put her in a little orange vest and yellow harness, both of which said “ADOPT ME,” and then sent us on our way.

I’d forgotten how easily dogs go with strangers, how willingly they trust people they have no reason to, until Rainbow jumped in my car and cuddled into Griffin’s lap in the backseat.

We went to nearby Hunting Park, where we walked the paths and ran in the grass. At one point when I knelt down to pet Rainbow, she put both her paws on my shoulders and gave me a hug. There’s probably still a puddle in the park from where I melted.

I wasn’t too worried this little lady wouldn’t get adopted. Not only is she young and sweet, but after our outing, she was headed to a Doggie Style shop to sit in the window and be admired by passersby. Since 2023, ACCT has partnered with the store and it’s resulted in almost 900 adoptions, Barnett said.

We brought Rainbow back and were introduced to our next Pupventures pal — Sugar Dumpling — who’s “a staff favorite.” She was a silvery-brown pit bull mix with flip-floppy ears and chestnut-colored puppy dog eyes. She had some hair loss on her back and, at 8 years old, was considered a senior dog.

“I think we all have a soft spot for the older ladies and older gentlemen … and especially because she’s got some hair missing,” Strehlau said. “The misfits always get you.”

Sugar Dumpling’s also been a “frequent flyer” at ACCT. She first came to the shelter in March 2025 after being hit by a car. She was timestamped for euthanasia, then adopted, but was later surrendered.

“She’s been through it,” Fertig said.

And Sugar Dumpling, who was as sweet as her name suggests, was going through it again. She was timestamped for euthanasia on Friday.

“I’m gonna get emotional,” I said, as the tears welled up, “but how do you deal with a staff-favorite being timestamped?”

“It’s very hard. I mean, I started working here because my dog was timestamped, and I came in [to rescue it], and then I was like, ‘Well, I gotta work there,’” Fertig said.

Now she finds homes for dogs through ACCT’s more-than-200 rescue partners and its large network of fosters. About 95% of timestamped dogs get out of the shelter and many of those that don’t tend to have medical or behavioral issues, Barnett said (ACCT has an 89% live release rate overall).

Blissfully unaware of the nature of our conversation, Sugar Dumpling — who’d spotted the backpack and already had her little “ADOPT ME” vest on — quivered with anticipation for our outing.

It made me lose it even more. Fertig gave me a hug.

“We understand,” she said. I realized not only do ACCT staffers care for Philly’s forgotten animals, they care for Philly’s people too — whether it’s an emotional volunteer like me or someone who has to surrender their pet due to housing insecurity.

“It’s not easy work. We definitely question our sanity regularly,” Barnett later told me. “But it’s also very rewarding. You get to see different parts of people and animals and you get to make a difference in a lot of pets and people’s lives working in a shelter.”

ACCT catches a lot of heat for timestamping dogs (and I know some of you are going to send me mean emails for writing anything positive about them), but they’re dealing with a problem that we, as a society, create. It’s grueling to face societal realities that nobody wants to, especially when it involves things you love.

“The day you stop caring or the day euthanizing doesn’t impact you anymore is the day you need to quit,” Barnett said. “It’s not a question of if the animals need help, it’s if you want to be a part of the solution, even if it’s painful.”

I didn’t know what the future held for Sugar Dumpling, but I knew my colleagues and I were going to give her the best day we could. The sweet girl was a doll in the car and we went to Tacony Creek Park, where she sniffed everything, explored with purpose, and was just so happy to be outside.

Afterward, we took Sugar Dumpling to a Rita’s Italian Ice & Frozen Custard for a pup cup. I sat on the ground and held it while she gently licked it up, her eyes wide with excitement. I wasn’t sure I could save her life but I could give her this moment.

It reminded me of feeding my dog bacon just before we had to put her down last year. The doctors said there was a tumor on her ticker, but we knew the truth — her heart was just too big.

In the days after, I cuddled my surviving PSPCA rescue dog tightly and questioned ever getting another dog again. In the depths of my grief, I asked my husband: “Was it worth it? Was it worth all the pain?”

“Of course it was,” he said.

Bringing Sugar Dumpling back to ACCT was hard. Griffin — who rightfully noted that I’m tough on the outside but gooey inside — tried to sooth me.

“Don’t worry, Steph,” she said. “If I can foster her, I will.”

My colleagues had other assignments after our time with Sugar Dumpling, so I took one last dog out on my own. Lucky Girl was a 6-year-old “Heinz 57″ of breeds, but her brown-and-block coat suggested a shepherd-rottweiler mix. She came in as a stray and was microchipped, but when ACCT called the listed owner, she claimed she’d given the dog away and didn’t have the new owner’s name.

I took Lucky Girl to Hunting Park, where we went for a long walk and she loved rolling in the grass and getting belly rubs. Given what she’d been through, I wasn’t so sure she was a lucky girl, but I did tell her many times that she was a good one.

When I returned her to ACCT, there was a young woman and her partner waiting to go on their own Pupventure. Ella Ramonov is a student at Thomas Jefferson University who’s moving to Germantown soon.

“I really want a dog and I never had a dog,” she told me. “So this is amazing because you don’t buy the dog, you don’t adopt it. It’s just one day and it’s so fun and I’m so excited!”

Lucky Girl went right back out with Ramonov and I left knowing she was happy and in good hands. I hoped her fortune would soon live up to her name.

When I got home, I took my own dog for a walk in the park. For the first time in a long time, I sat with her in the grass and gave her belly rubs. My day with the other dogs had made me more grateful for her too.

But my mind still went to Sugar Dumpling and to a question Erol asked me earlier: How did doing Pupventures make me feel?

I don’t remember what I said, but I think “emotional roller coaster” was somewhere in my response. I experienced moments of great joy, and moments of great sadness too.

As I thought about it, I realized that doing a program like Pupventures isn’t just about a time commitment or a desire to do good, it’s an emotional investment, and that may be the hardest hurdle. But in the end, the experiences that make us acutely feel something are the ones that truly matter.

Was it worth it? Was it worth all the pain?

Of course it was.

At 5:55 p.m. on Tuesday, my phone dinged. I opened it and saw photos and videos from Griffin of Sugar Dumpling at her house along with her bulldog, Bruno. She’d saved her from the timestamp and brought her in as a foster! I lost it all over again, but this time, in the best way possible.

At ACCT’s recommendation, Griffin is giving the dogs some space until they get to know one another a little better, but she reports they’re already pining for each other through the doggy gates and French doors.

“Bruno wants to be her best friend,” Griffin texted me.

And really, that’s all any dog wants, to be somebody’s best friend. If you can foster one, like Griffin, that’s amazing, and if you can be their forever best friend, that’s wonderful. But what I learned by doing Pupventures is that even an hour with a dog makes a difference, in their lives and in our lives too.

For more information about Pupventures or to sign up for the program visit acctphilly.org/philly-pupventures or call 267-385-3800.