Renee Harlor Found Her Voice Speaking for Animals
As a child, Renee Harlor often couldn’t speak. She had selective mutism, an anxiety disorder that made it physically impossible for her to speak in many public situations. Well into her teens, Harlor sometimes couldn’t order her own food in a restaurant. At school, she would whisper to a trusted person who would speak for her.
Interacting with animals was very different. “Dogs and cats didn’t require me to speak,” Harlor says. “Wherever I was, if there was a dog or a cat, I gravitated to them.”
Today, as executive director of the Animal Care League in Oak Park, Harlor loves public speaking. The irony isn’t lost on her.
When she started her first animal welfare organization, speaking publicly was unavoidable. “The only option was, I go out and speak if I want to help these animals,” she says. “And it was hard.” But then something unexpected happened; she discovered she loved it.
Harlor began her career in hospitality. She started working in fast food, and moved on to hotel management, to eventually owning a sandwich shop. Along the way, she learned how to manage people, serve customers, and thrive in a fast-paced environment.
In 2009, after moving to the Indianapolis area for a hotel job, Harlor decided to volunteer at a local animal shelter. She quickly discovered that the county shelter didn’t accept volunteers or even list its animals for adoption. When she looked into its statistics, she learned that 76 percent of the animals were being euthanized.
“I can’t turn my head,” she remembers thinking. So she didn’t.
Harlor and a retired veterinary technician co-founded Misty Eyes Animal Center. Fifteen years later, the organization has saved thousands of animals, operates on three acres with two buildings and more planned, and is known for education and caring for special-needs animals. For much of its early history, Harlor worked full time in hospitality while putting another 25 hours a week into Misty Eyes as volunteer executive director. “It’s what I’m most proud of in this world,” she says.
Two years ago, a mentor challenged Harlor to Google her dream job and apply for it. The search turned up the Animal Care League. Harlor left the life and community she’d built during 17 years in Indianapolis and moved to Oak Park to lead the organization.
Her commitment to special-needs animals extends to home. Pogo, her nearly seven-year-old pit bull, has no eyes. Harlor adopted her at six months old, expecting that caring for a blind dog would require considerable accommodation. Turns out, not with Pogo.
“She’s the happiest dog,” Harlor says. Pogo has learned cues such as “step up,” “step down,” and “watch it,” plays fetch, goes places with Harlor, and has developed what Harlor calls her own “fan club.” “You don’t need to tell her she’s blind,” Harlor tells people. “She doesn’t know.”
After years in animal welfare, Harlor has come to believe the work is as much about people as animals. While leading a Meals on Wheels program for two years, she saw homebound clients share their delivered meals with pets they couldn’t bear to give up. She sees that same bond at Animal Care League, where helping an animal sometimes means helping its person with veterinary care or pet food so they can stay together.
Harlor has seen things that are difficult to absorb, but looking away was never an option. “If you’re here and you’re doing the best job you can do, their lives are changing,” she says. “They need somebody, just as I needed someone as a kid, to be their voice.”
For the child who once couldn’t speak, it’s hard to imagine a more fitting way to have found her own.