Responding to Best Friends' Defense of Managed Intake Policies: A Comprehensive Analysis
When Shelters Close Their Doors: The Dark Reality Behind "Managed Intake" Policies
Managed intake is one of the most contentious policies in modern animal sheltering, hailed by some as a solution to overcrowding but condemned by others as an abandonment of essential public services. As a former executive director of multiple major municipal animal control agencies, I find Best Friends Animal Society’s defense of the practice riddled with flawed assumptions and troubling consequences for both animals and communities.

The Fundamental Disconnect in Managed Intake Philosophy
Best Friends Animal Society (BFAS) frames managed intake as a compassionate approach, asserting that shelters aren’t always the best option for animals. While there is a kernel of truth to this, it fundamentally misrepresents the primary role of municipal shelters: public safety. This crucial distinction appears lost in BFAS’ defense of managed intake.
Their claim that "for many animals, the local shelter—which is most likely overcrowded, and their lives will be at risk—is not the best option" rests on a flawed premise. It frames the consequence of operational failures (overcrowding) as justification for restricting intake—the very service shelters exist to provide. This circular reasoning suggests that because shelters are overcrowded, they should admit fewer animals, rather than address why they are overwhelmed in the first place.
Municipal shelters are essential public infrastructure, akin to fire departments, police services, or emergency rooms. Their duty is to provide immediate care for animals in need while ensuring public safety. Allowing them to arbitrarily limit services due to capacity challenges undermines their fundamental purpose.
The Reality Behind the Statistics
BFAS defends managed intake by pointing to improved live-release rates and reduced euthanasia. However, these numbers demand scrutiny. By restricting intake through appointment systems and redirection policies, shelters can manipulate their outcome metrics without necessarily improving animal welfare in the community.
A closer look at communities adopting managed intake reveals troubling trends. In Indianapolis Animal Care Services, where BFAS embedded a manager to implement these "proven" strategies, performance metrics declined across multiple categories despite a full year of specialized guidance. Volunteers reported animals so emaciated that "you can see every rib and count almost every vertebra."
Memphis Animal Services implemented similar practices and saw dramatic decreases in euthanasia rates—from a median of 59% to just 3%—which appears impressive until we examine what happened to the animals not admitted to the shelter. The fundamental question remains: did these animals receive better outcomes, or were they simply disappeared from the shelter's statistics?
The Missing Data Problem
The greatest flaw in evaluating managed intake is the data we don’t have. BFAS touts improved live-release rates, yet its defense ignores a fundamental issue: the lack of transparency regarding animals turned away or waitlisted. In Indianapolis, for example, "there was no publicly available data on how many citizens attempted to surrender animals but were turned away due to capacity limits".
Without tracking what happens to animals denied immediate shelter access, we cannot determine whether managed intake improves outcomes or merely shifts suffering out of sight. Communities adopting these policies rarely collect data on:
How many animals are denied immediate intake
What happens to these animals while waiting for admission
Whether they eventually enter the shelter system or find other outcomes
The impact on animal control complaints and public safety incidents
This data gap creates a dangerous lack of accountability, making it impossible to measure the true consequences of these policies.
The Adoption Gap Fallacy
A core assumption of managed intake deserves scrutiny: the belief that restricting shelter intake naturally increases adoptions. This oversimplifies the complex realities of shelter populations and adoption trends, making the policy’s underlying logic deeply flawed.
Shelter populations increasingly consist of animals with significant behavioral or medical challenges, creating persistent adoption barriers. Large dogs, particularly those over 35 pounds, "consistently have more difficulty in being adopted" due to public perception, breed restrictions, housing policies, and behavioral concerns. As a result, shelters are dominated by harder-to-place animals who experience prolonged stays.
Behavioral challenges further reduce adoptability. Data shows that "dogs evaluated as showing dangerous behavior had longer lengths of stay than those with minor concerns," creating a cycle where prolonged confinement exacerbates behavioral issues, making adoption even less likely. A study at a Texas shelter found "56% of dogs were returned due to behavioral issues, 31% were returned for owner-related reasons," proving that these problems persist even after placement.
As one animal welfare expert put it, "If adopters must choose between a pet they want and one that is sick, aggressive, or unmanageable, simply restricting intake won’t change their decision." This reality is reflected in national trends: While managed intake shelters claim higher live-release rates, critics note that they "haven’t actually increased adoption—they’ve just reduced intake." The national adoption gap (the difference between animals entering and leaving shelters through adoption) widened from 1% in 2020 to 7.3% in 2022, underscoring this failure.
Managed intake also forces a resource allocation dilemma that defenders rarely acknowledge. As shelter medicine experts note, "For a limited-intake shelter, highly adoptable puppies and kittens may remain at risk in the community or another shelter, missing their best adoption window, while space is occupied by long-term stays." This creates a no-win scenario where neither population is well served, overall adoptions decline, and animals endure prolonged confinement.
Perhaps most concerning is how managed intake disrupts the broader animal welfare ecosystem. "The movement of animals from high-intake to high-adoption areas is crucial to keeping national euthanasia rates low," yet this movement has dropped significantly in communities adopting managed intake. By restricting intake, municipal shelters reduce their ability to accept transfers from overcrowded rural shelters or support specialized rescue groups, creating ripple effects throughout the animal welfare network that aren’t reflected in individual shelter statistics.
The Burden-Shifting Problem
When municipal shelters implement managed intake, the need for animal care doesn’t disappear—it shifts to those least equipped to handle it. Smaller rescues, already stretched thin, find themselves overwhelmed by animals municipal shelters refuse to accept. In Indianapolis, local rescues reported being "forced to house stray animals when IACS refuses to".
Citizens who find strays or need to surrender pets face difficult choices when shelters can’t accommodate them. Many lack the resources, knowledge, or legal authority to properly care for or rehome these animals. The result? More pets abandoned in unsafe conditions, left to roam, or kept in inappropriate environments.
This burden-shifting creates an inequitable and ineffective system. While BFAS promotes resource development—such as pet food pantries and rehoming assistance—these services rarely address the immediate needs of animals requiring shelter. The most vulnerable community members, both human and animal, bear the greatest burden when public services are restricted.
The Public Safety Concern
Perhaps most troubling is the public safety impact of managed intake. While BFAS insists that "Managed intake is not: Allowing stray or loose dogs to roam the streets without intervention," the reality in many communities contradicts this claim. When shelters restrict intake or impose barriers to surrender, potentially dangerous animals remain in the community longer than necessary.
In cities implementing managed intake, residents frequently report extended wait times for animal control response—especially for non-emergency cases. These delays create escalating risks. Stray dogs may form packs, act aggressively toward people and pets, or reproduce unchecked, leading to larger populations of unsocialized animals.
A Better Path Forward
Rather than accepting capacity limitations as inevitable, animal shelters should focus on expanding their ability to serve their communities effectively. Key strategies include:
True Transparency: Track and report all animals presented for surrender or rescue, including those turned away or waitlisted, with clear documentation of outcomes.
Resource Optimization: Reassess current resource allocation to improve efficiency without restricting core services.
Community Engagement: Strengthen volunteer and foster programs to expand capacity beyond physical shelter limitations.
Prevention Focus: Invest in accessible spay/neuter services in high-surrender communities to address overpopulation at its root.
Staff Support: Implement trauma-informed policies to reduce burnout and turnover, ensuring operational stability.
Conclusion
While BFAS presents managed intake as a progressive sheltering model, closer examination reveals significant flaws. The policy prioritizes statistical improvements over meaningful animal welfare and public safety solutions. Without transparency, accountability, and resource investment, managed intake risks becoming a mechanism for municipal shelters to abandon their core responsibilities rather than solve capacity challenges.
Animal welfare professionals must remain committed to approaches that genuinely serve both animals and communities—not just improve metrics. This requires honest assessment of limitations, transparent reporting of outcomes, and a commitment to expanding services to meet community needs rather than restricting access to fit existing constraints.
Ed Boks is a former Executive Director of the New York City, City of Los Angeles, and Maricopa County Animal Care & Control Departments, and a former Board Director of the National Animal Control Association. His work has been published in the LA Times, New York Times, Newsweek, Real Clear Policy, Sentient Media, and now on Animal Politics with Ed Boks.
I just returned from two weeks of visiting shelters in TN, VA, GA, and NC (including Memphis Animal Services). We saw exactly this everywhere we went. Several of the shelters we visited had recently returned to open intake practices after a few years of managed intake. They realized that managed intake was exacerbating the crisis. They are in a much worse position now than prior to starting managed intake practices. It will take some time for shelters to recover and they will need to be transparent of the situation and invite their communities to be a part of the solution through volunteering, fostering, and advocating for more resources (especially to fund spay/neuter).
Thank you for your continued reporting on this. After adopting a livestock guardian breed from Best Friends (advertised as a friendly Lab), I struggled with his behavior. My trainer shared the heartbreaking reality that many dogs like him are abandoned in the desert because shelters won’t take them in.
The 'No Kill' philosophy sounds ideal, but visiting Los Angeles shelters and seeing dogs who had been there for years made me realize that sometimes euthanasia is the kinder choice. Instead of transporting rural dogs to urban shelters, Best Friends could make a bigger impact by focusing on spay and neuter education in rural areas. While 'Save Them All' is a nice tagline, I’ve seen firsthand the cruelty behind this pipe dream. Real solutions require transparency and a genuine commitment to animal welfare—not just statistics that drive donations.