Opinion: Our Dog Was Nearly Euthanized for “Emotional Suffering.” In Reality, She Was Starving and Medically Neglected.

When my family adopted Remy, a black German Shepherd, in January 2026, we believed we were giving a shelter dog a second chance.

What we didn’t know was that Remy was only days away from being euthanized by the City of Albuquerque Animal Welfare Department—not for aggression, not for untreatable illness, but for “emotional suffering” caused by the shelter environment itself.

Remy was our first dog after losing our beloved companion of 17 years. Choosing to adopt again was an emotional decision rooted in trust—trust that the shelter would be honest about the condition of the dog we were bringing home.

That trust was misplaced.

Shelter records we obtained after adoption paint a disturbing picture. Remy was repeatedly described as growling, lip licking, lunging at her kennel door, nervous, and unable to tolerate handling. These behaviors were cited as justification for euthanasia rather than recognized for what they were: classic signs of extreme stress in an overcrowded shelter.

Once Remy left that environment, those behaviors stopped.

In our home, she was gentle, affectionate, and responsive. She allowed handling. She bonded quickly. The “emotionally suffering” dog deemed unadoptable explained itself within days—she was reacting to confinement, not dangerous or unstable by nature.

What did emerge almost immediately was something far more alarming: Remy was gravely ill.

Shelter records show that Remy weighed between 82 and 86 pounds in 2023. Just days before adoption in January 2026, her weight was recorded as 65 pounds—a drastic and dangerous loss that was never explained to us. She had multiple documented episodes of lameness, swelling, pain, and mobility issues. She had been prescribed medications such as carprofen, gabapentin, and trazodone. Yet despite incomplete exams and repeated notes stating she could not be properly evaluated, she was consistently marked as “normal.”

At adoption, Remy was not examined by a veterinarian. A heartworm test could not be completed. We were asked to sign a medical waiver transferring all responsibility for follow-up care to us, with no reimbursement. This was due to the veterinary staff being too afraid of this “aggressive dog” to even do basic medical care and testing. 

The day we brought her home, it became clear that Remy’s condition was far more severe than disclosed.

A private veterinarian confirmed that Remy has severe muscular atrophy caused by prolonged malnourishment. This level of muscle loss does not occur suddenly. It reflects a long-term failure to meet basic nutritional needs—directly contradicting the shelter’s repeated classification of her condition as normal.

More alarming still, Remy has now been diagnosed with a serious gastrointestinal disease consistent with protein-losing enteropathy, a condition in which the body cannot properly absorb or retain essential proteins. This is a life-threatening disorder that explains her dramatic weight loss, muscle wasting, and ongoing gastrointestinal symptoms. It is not subtle. It is not acute. And it does not develop overnight.

The cost of uncovering this has been staggering. One veterinary visit alone cost us $800. We have since been told to expect approximately $5,000 more in diagnostics and procedures to determine the full extent of the damage and give Remy a slight chance at recovery but mainly at palliative care at this point. To keep her comfortable until we decide to euthanize her or she passes on her own. 

What is most disturbing is not just Remy’s suffering, but the system that failed to treat her and sent her out to be adopted. 

Instead of investigating her weight loss, her pain, or her inability to tolerate exams, the shelter labeled her emotionally broken. Instead of medical intervention or foster decompression, she was placed on a euthanasia list. The environment that caused her distress was then used as evidence that she could not be saved.

Remy lived because we chose her before the system failed her completely.

Many dogs are not that lucky.

There is no excuse for calling a starving, medically deteriorating dog “normal,” shifting liability to adopters, and quietly shifting all responsibility away from themselves onto unsuspecting families trying to do the right thing. 

Remy is alive today because she was removed from the shelter—not because the shelter saved her. 

Remy’s prognosis is not great, with a few weeks or maybe a few months left of life. The cities negligence and lack of care caused her to decline to a point where she cannot be saved. Now we are forced to bear the financial burden of care and the emotional burden of a new dog suffering, with what could’ve been a treatable condition or a humane medical euthanasia due to her conditions.

UPDATE: A day after this submission we were told that REMY has since passed away. 

RIP in Peace Remy, You were a good doggie!