Helping Stray Dogs is Hard. For Chewy, It’s A Walk In The Dog Park

For years, Chewy has long been lauded by the Internet as one of the most customer-centric companies that exist for pet owners and lovers.

Friends have written touching posts about their beloved fur babies being memorialized through flowers and thoughtful gifts. Strangers have spoken highly of how easy it is to return or refund items through the app, by phone or online. Acquaintances have proudly shared customized artwork of their very best friends, captioned with a “Thanks, Chewy!” and then hung them in their homes.

As a pet owner myself I’ve heard Chewy success stories, but never paid them much attention. More often than not, I’ve opted to frequent small business mom and pop shops for my pet needs. Over the years my desire to avoid the apps, online retailers and subscription services held fast—until recently.

In A Pinch, I Finally Chomped On The Convenient Customer Service Chewy Bit

Late last year I moved neighborhoods and struggled to find the food, litter deodorizers and toys that my cats love and need. Walks to a handful of stores and phone calls to local New York City spots left me without options that I felt comfortable giving to my furry girls.

Both of my cats are rescues and came to me as younglings from less than desirable circumstances. They didn’t get the healthcare, attention, financial support or development stimulation that they needed. As a result I am hyper-aware of what I bring into my home as their permanent owner. 

After months of aggravation and struggling post-move, I finally gave into the Chewy hype. And I didn’t just order: I auto-shipped, I took advantage of flash sales, and I got toys for friends’ pets. I got my girls all the options under the sun including but not limited to a cat tower so big that neither myself nor my partner can actually reach our cats when they sit atop the highest perch. In short, I was all Chewy’d out, 

While I loved the convenience of it all and timeliness of deliveries, I still failed to have the special, personal connection that everyone else and their pets seemed to have with the brand. That unspeakable bond and deep emotional harmony was reserved for me and my cats only—brands need not apply. I held fast to that mantra every time I broke out the catnip, washed a cat bed or traded out collars for a special holiday look. My cats weren’t loved because of all the stuff I gave them. I gave them all the stuff because I loved them.

My two cats Poppy (age 3) and Mimi (age 9 months).

Even though I am a “cat lady” I’ve loved animals of all kinds since I can remember. Cat, dog, rabbit, guinea pig, bird, lizzard, fish—at some point or another I begged my parents to get at least one to no avail. But when the time came to live on my own, fur babies were on the top of my adulthood wish list. In the years since, I’ve had four cats but currently live with my two girls, Poppy and Mimi. Poppy came to me swathed by ear mites and Mimi was given to me at no cost due to her previous owner being unable to afford her care. I feel grateful for both of them, and lucky to be in a position where I can support animals in need at this time in my life.

In Moments Of Pet Duress, Advocates For Quality Care Make A CX Difference

That gratitude is what led me to partner with my neighbors to save a pitbull mix dog who was wandering around Brooklyn. I learned about her from our neighborhood Facebook group. She was found eating garbage in the middle of the street, underweight, lactating and having just given birth to a litter of puppies, which were nowhere to be found.

The Facebook post that introduced me to a dog I would later work to foster/get adopted.

A neighbor, Angela, who couldn't take care of her long-term brought her to the vet and determined she wasn’t chipped and no owner had claimed her. They didn’t know her medical history or vaccination history, and were looking for others to claim, foster or even adopt her so that she could get the proper care and attention she so desperately needed.

As soon as I saw her photo, my heart swelled. Who could do something like that to such a beautiful creature? I reached out expressing interest to foster and hopefully adopt this gorgeous beauty, so that we both could have this chance of living the love-filled life we always wanted.

Angela had already been in conversation with other interested parties for fostering and adoption while the dog couch surfed from home to home, but told me that above all this dog needed help. And the more I spoke with her, the more I learned about how serious this poor dog’s condition was.

Big Mama with a furry friend she made during her couch surfing days.

She had wounds on her face, ear infection in one ear, another in her mouth, and was passing stool with blood because she gave birth to her newest litter as recently as a month prior. Upon a second vet visit it was discovered that she was likely chained outside and often laid down on hard concrete, in addition to having a heart murmur. In terms of pet insurance, what this dog had experienced would be considered pre-existing conditions which would have to be paid out of pocket.

Angela was willing to contribute some funds to her bills, but couldn’t cover all of them–nor could the others helping support her. After some calculations and conversations on the dog’s health I got to work orchestrating a GoFundMe page to cover not just potential medical issues, but supplies, food and enrichment for her.

I reached out to local rescues, hesitant to surrender her to a shelter. Considering the complexity of her situation—the financial cost, and the stigma that comes with her being a black pitbull dog (many pitbulls are stereotyped as being inherently violent or dangerous)—I hated to envision her back out on the street, abused, or even euthanized due to lack of rescue agency lodging or interest in fostering/adopting her.

An email from a local Brooklyn dog recue organization stating they would be unable to provide foster support.

As I anticipated, rescues were full and only one could potentially help subsidize Big Mama’s vet bills. I was unsure of what else to do, overwhelmed by research and inexperienced with dogs as a cat owner. Nonetheless I started preparing myself to foster this dog who I affectionately came to call “Big Mama.” Thankfully, more neighbors pitched in, donating to the fundraiser I had established and gifting a crate and toys their dogs no longer used. But I still didn’t have food, a leash, bowls, waste bags, treats or anything else. According to Angela if nobody adopted the dog Big Mama could be coming to me sooner or later, and I was totally unprepared. 

Chewy’s Dedication To The Company Mission Creates A Loyal Community

In a panic I emailed Chewy. The company seemed reliable with my orders and maybe even as good as everyone said they were. If Chewy employees cared about pets as much as they claimed, I hoped that they would help me. In my note I explained Big Mama’s circumstances, her couch surfing, her medical bills, photos and my desire to help her in any way I could with a request for help securing supplies.

Within hours of my message to them, I received a phone call from a manager in the customer service department, who told me that they would be able to donate a complete pet preparedness kit: food, bowls, a leash, a first aid kit and treats. The relief I felt in that moment was so much so that I cried on the phone and quite literally swore my undying allegiance to Chewy from there on out. The manager assured me that everything would be at my door by the next day (which it was). The day of the delivery I got an email from Chewy's dedicated rescue department, which I didn't even know Chewy had when I contacted its customer service team.

The email response I received from Chewy shortly after I reached out requesting aid.

After years of hesitation, and in the most unexpected way, the company had finally done it: they made a lifelong customer out of me. Whether Big Mama stayed with me for a little while, never or forever, I knew that my neighbors and I would be able to send her off to a good, safe life with everything she needed thanks to Chewy’s empathy and compassion.

The brand was there for not me–but a helpless animal–at its hour of need when no other brands were. Chewy proved to me that pets–not owners–are at the center of what they do. The customer service team didn’t care that maybe the dog wouldn’t live under my roof or care that I only had cats. Agents listened to my concerns and didn’t make me feel guilty for asking for help. A manager promised me something and carried out that promise with a swiftness rarely seen. I got the personalized mom and pop shop feeling I was looking for for my pets from the most unlikely place. 

RELATED SPECIAL REPORT: Customer Service Personalization

While I was keeping my head down and mobilizing, Angela was fielding calls, meet-and-greets, and interviews with other prospective new owners. Lucky for us–and Big Mama–one pet parent-to-be was a homeowner with a fence and a yard. And as much as I would have loved to take her into my two-bedroom New York City apartment with my two cats and a dog park across the street, I knew that I couldn’t make that kind of selfish decision.

Big Mama, now named Reina, with her new owner.

Thanks to Chewy, this dog’s dire circumstances were met with the best possible outcome: a loving home with space to room, ample attention and no stress surrounding her care or needs. Because donations didn’t have to be used for rehoming materials, the funds I had raised went right to Big Mama. Over $2,000 in donations covered her vet care right down to blood work essential for understanding the cause of her heart murmur. Not only this, but Big Mama’s new owner and my neighbors who found her, couch surfed her and took care of her encouraged me to keep the bowls, food and toys from them and from Chewy, so that in the future I can return the favor to a foster-fail of my very own and not have to worry about the basics.

When Well Executed, Customer Centricity Is The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Today, Big Mama (now named Reina), lives out in the suburbs of Long Island in a one-pet home. While I don’t see her photos and get updates on her anymore, her impact on our little Brooklyn community is long-lasting. Because of all the outreach getting Reina housed took, I know way more neighbors now than I had before I moved. I work with other local animal lovers to help feed, trap, neuter and return stray cats. I chat with groomers, walkers and other dog owners. I’m even connected with shelters and fellow pet foster parents so that when the time comes, I know where to go and who to talk to to bring a dog into my home forever.

As the saying goes, it takes a village. Now mine isn't just composed by helping hands.  It has paws and wagging tails and wet noses, too. Where Reina wasn’t prepared for the world and I wasn’t prepared for her, she can relax and I can be ready for that next phase of life. Not only this, but I got my Chewy success story–one that became bigger than autoship order could ever be. 

Photos courtesy of CCW Digital and Angela Marie Alvarez.