The pit falls and potential positives of labeling a rescued "pit bull"

I recently stumbled across a post on happypitbull.com that talked about the general nature of the term "pit bull" in today's world. The post was dead on, but got me thinking about the liberal use of the term in shelter and rescue environments and its impact on these dogs, the "pit bull" term itself, and breed legislation.

I believe a breed label is marginally useful no matter what breed we may be labeling. I wholeheartedly believe that every dog is an individual, and that, particularly in adult dogs, breed itself is far less relevant and consistent than people may believe -- especially when looking at behaviors relevant to potential adopters (tolerance with children, sociability, activity level,  for example). In the abstract, any individual dog of any breed may thrive in any one particular environment.

At the government shelters I work with, each dog is labeled by predominant "breed," something I take issue with, although I certainly am not alone. A shelter volunteer at Pima Animal Care Center in Tucson, AZ, has expressed concern over the shelter's labeling practices -- concern that has been ignored by her superiors, who continue to label just about anything a "pit bull mix." Such munificent labeling certainly is inappropriate.

Perhaps such labeling simply follows a public trend to know the breed they own. Petfinder.com, adoptapet.com, and rescueme.org require a dog to be labeled a specific breed -- preferably two -- and, although "mixed breed" is an option, it does not attract hits. People seem to like "breeds," and I want to get my dogs adopted. So I label.

All these dogs were labeled "pit bulls" by shelters from which we pull.

Historically, shelters simply labeled dogs of uncertain ancestry as "mixed breeds" or "mongrels," and adopters chose a dog based on the physical and personality characteristics they appreciated. This seems, in theory and devoid of context, wise. But, we live in a world where your dog legally can be taken from you and killed if an arbitrary actor sees fit to label him/her a "pit bull." Is it really fair to surprise adopters in this fashion simply because we hate what the label has come to mean?

At a seminar for rescue workers I recently attended, we were told never to guess or make assumptions about a dog's past or a dog's present preferences, and simply to list the facts: what we'd observed, what background information may have been given or confirmed. Ideally, this also should be the case with breed descriptors.

When a dog is labeled a "pit bull," the dog often is automatically stripped of its individuality -- even by reputable pit bull rescues. Some, for example, will not adopt "pit bulls" into homes with dogs of the same gender as pit bulls have a greater propensity to aggress toward other dogs. But many "pit bulls" likely have no ancestry tied to a particular breed. All "pit bull" rescues want to set their dogs up for success. How do we make sense of and balance these complications?

Unfortunately, even for a rescue like my own, where we know the pit falls of labeling, it is hard not to label. Indeed, the label is often in the name of the rescue itself, something I struggled with when choosing a moniker. Ultimately, I decided I wanted my organization to be readily identified as a safe harbor for any dog unfortunate enough to be labeled a "pit bull" by a shelter, as, really, all those dogs, no matter their breed, are that much less likely to find their way into loving homes. Tough Love Pit Bull Rescue does not assist American Pit Bull Terriers or American Staffordshire Terriers. We assist the dogs in greatest need of help. And these dogs are pit bulls.

The "pit bull" is a very popular type of dog in America. Imagine how many "shepherds" or "retrievers" or "spaniels" there would be if we grouped all distinct breeds and their mixes into one generalized category like we've done with pit bulls. It is not surprising then, that "pit bulls" make up the bulk of dogs killed at many shelters, or appear more frequently as the actors in bite incidents (yes, I know this is a loaded statement, but for simplicity's sake, let's assume media bias is irrelevant). Last week a shelter employee told my co-director that a full 50 of the dogs at their facility (which houses 300 dogs at capacity) were "pit bulls." That's a lot of pit bulls.

The problems with labeling "pit bulls" in shelters are twofold (1) As discussed above, "pit bulls" are much less likely to be adopted than other "breeds" and (2) liberal labeling of mixed-breed dogs as "pit bulls" leaves these dogs susceptible to breed discriminatory legislation and gives BDL proponents an argument to expand the definition of a "pit bull" legally. We certainly do not want to give teeth to any discriminatory movement by handing them a very large, very general conglomeration of "pit bulls" that they now must control. So, really, is the problem with such generic labeling simply an issue of attached social implications?

In the long run, though, I think the "pit bull" generalization will backfire on BDL proponents and prove legally useful in contesting BDL. That is, if the term is used as liberally as it is, it eventually will lose all appreciable meaning or significance. It will no longer be solely attached to the American Pit Bull Terrier or American Staffordshire Terrier, or any other breed with a history of baiting or fighting (a point courts continue to cling to). If this were to happen, there would be no viable legal argument that a "pit bull" is distinct from other dogs based on a set of historic and present-day characteristics.

So, I posit this: Is it possible for the "pit bull" label to be dually helpful and detrimental?

At the end of the day, at least here at Tough Love, a "pit bull" is still a dog and will always be treated as an individual. So, even if every dog of every breed were labeled a "pit bull," it wouldn't change how we interact with our rescues. Thus, concerning our interactions with individual dogs, the label matters only when we allow it to matter.

And when dealing with everyone else, perhaps the solution is not to discourage labeling, but to educate and to transform the label into something different than it is today -- something positive.

Cover-a-Bull: Who will insure your home when you're living with a pit bull type dog

We've had at least one adopter in the past couple months who had some trouble securing home owner's insurance with the prospect of their new pit bull family member. I decided to make some calls to Arizona insurance companies and have compiled a list of companies and their coverage options for pit bull owners.

The two companies that maintained they do not cover multiple "vicious" breeds handed out that information as a way to justify not covering pit bull type dogs -- an interesting reaction, but certainly not something redeeming in my book.

I'd like to add that, for the record, with the exception of Progressive and Mr. Insurance, every agent I talked to from a company that did not insure pit bulls stated: "It's not the breed, it's how they're raised. They have a bad reputation they don't deserve." Many had positive pit bull experiences they shared with me. One woman even told me she had nightmares after Michael Vick was arrested. So, that, at least, is something in my book.

Who will cover you?

1. Country Financial (520.298.2100) -- YES Kent, the agent, was very nice.
2. Mike Pierce Insurance -- NO pit bulls, Akitas, doberman pinschers, or rottweilers
3. Farmers (via the Insurance House) -- NO on't provide liability coverage for pit bulls
4. State Farm (520.323.2253) -- YES
5. American Family -- NO
6. Geico (as a broker for multiple insurance companies) -- YES but limited to $100,000 in liability and $1,000 in medical
7. ABC Insurance (broker) -- currently NO but she will call me back if that changes
8. Allstate -- NO
9. Mr. Insurance, Inc. -- Representative didn't know, and she was rude. I got a call back, and the second representative indicated NO "vicious" breeds. They will, however issue a policy on your home, but will not give liability coverage.
10. Arizona Home Insurance -- NO
11. Progressive (as a broker) -- NO, and she was extremely rude
12. Nationwide -- NO
13. Liberty Mutual -- YES, but conditioned on (1) current on shots (2) spayed/neutered (3) the dog is not living with kids under 12 (4) not within 1/4 mile of a school and (5) no prior incidents; also the agent indicated that established insureds will be given preference.

If you know of any other companies in Arizona that do cover pit bulls, please let me know and I will add them to the list. I will compile a list for Washington in the coming weeks.

I have one suggestion, as well. Even if you do not have a pit bull type dog, choose a company that does not discriminate against pit bulls. Urge friends to do the same. Financial loss speaks more loudly than words to any company. Act, and you will change the world.

Foster Mom Christina tells Duke's Story

One Friday night, Brian was headed out to pick up some takeout. A few seconds after he walked out the door I got a phone call saying, "Honey, there's a dog outside the house." I went out front and there was Duke lapping up sprinkler water in our front yard. He was skinny, didn't have a collar, and had a patch of fur scratched off his face. We fed him and brought him into our backyard and he perked up right away. 

Duke, soon after we rescued him 

Duke is all puppy - he'll sleep for a few hours then want to play. He loves to run around with other dogs - one of his favorites is a young female across the street. They will run around together as long as you let them. He loves rawhide bones, dental bones, stuffed animals, floppy toys that he can shake around, and pretty much anything that makes noise - including empty water bottles and soda cans! He likes tug-of-war, but hasn't figured out how to fetch yet. He loves to play in the sprinklers, but is not a big fan of baths! 

Duke and Duchess with Christina

Since he has been in our house we have taught him to sit on command and how to walk on a leash. He has also gotten all his vaccinations and been neutered. He still needs help learning more doggie manners since he's just a big rambunctious pup. He's a quick learner though!Duke is a big lover. He loves to sit in laps and will climb into bed with you if you let him. He gives lots of kisses - especially on faces and toes.

Some of Duke's famous kisses!

Duke also knows how to use his doggie door to go potty and he is crate trained. We put him in his crate when we aren't home and at night. The only time that he fusses in his crate is if he hasn't gotten enough attention during the day or he has to potty.

I think Duke would do well either as the only pet or in a household with other animals. He is not dog aggressive and loves to play. Ultimately the most important thing to me is that he find a forever home with a family that will give him lots of love! I think his sweet face and disposition would be a positive addition to any home.

Duke today! Still looking for that perfect forever home!

What Harry Potter Can Teach Us About Dogs

Oh yes, I did go there...! After a decade-long relationship with Harry Potter, I admit I’m not quite ready to let go. As I’ve aged along with Harry and his friends, my interests have developed and I can’t help but notice that JK Rowling’s commentary applies to so many facets of life. Also, I really like metaphors because I'm a huge nerd at heart. As you’ve probably figured out by now, I’ve become involved with dog rescue and welfare issues. Even here, I can apply Rowling’s lessons. Here’s what I think the Harry Potter series can teach us about man’s best friend.

1. Pure blood does not always correlate with aptitude.

Snobs like the Malfoy family gauge the worth of their friends and family members on their ability to track their lineage via old wizarding blood lines. But some of the most competent wizards in the series are muggle-born – Hermione Granger and Lily Potter come to mind – or are half bloods  – Severus Snape and Dean Thomas fit the bill here.  As Sirius points out, wizards had to marry muggles, or they’d die out – the gene pool simply wasn’t diverse enough to support a growing population without inbreeding. And, in the wizarding world, inbreeding can lead to pretty big problems – just ask the Gaunts.

No offense to whippet fans, but I see a definite resemblance...

2. Big black dogs get a bad rap

An omen of death in the wizarding world, only the highly logical Hermione was quick to scoff at the idea that a big, black dog was one of the worst things a wizard could hope to encounter. As it turns out, the spectral dog that haunted Harry through much of the Prisoner of Azkaban was none other than his soon-redeemed godfather and best friend of his dad. Turns out, black dogs can be good news and faithful guardians.

To fear or revere...judge by personality not color 

3. A tough exterior can house the biggest heart

Let’s face it: Hagrid is the pit bull of the Harry Potter world. He’s brawny, he’s misunderstood, and he’s got a heart of gold if you bother to give him a chance. Hagrid’s highly sensitive to human approval – remember how long he hid out in his hut after Rita Skeeter published that nasty article about him? Raise your voice at a pit bull and watch his goofy smile slide right off his face and dissolve into a look of utter shame. Although Hagrid might be a bit unorthodox, he is the symbol of loyalty throughout the series, with Dumbledore entrusting him with critical errands and information.

If Hagrid were a dog, he'd totally be brindle...

Of course, Hagrid’s part giant, and heaven forbid you be even part giant, because, as Ron explains, “they’re not very nice.” And although there’s nothing wrong with Hagrid, and once you meet him you’ll figure that out quickly, Hagrid isn’t exactly keen to have his heritage scrutinized before he’s even given a chance to prove it wrong. Turns out Hagrid’s brother, Grawp, a full-blooded giant, can be a pretty stand up fellow as well, if you’ve earned his loyalties.

4. If you get bitten, it was probably your fault 

In the Harry Potter series, you’re liable to get bitten by animals, plants, and objects that would qualify as inanimate in the muggle world. As Malfoy found out the hard way, failing to follow proper procedures when dealing with non-human critters can earn you a trip to the hospital wing. But, even in the wizarding world, the law seems to use some sort of strict liability scheme for animal bites, and an animal caught up in a legal battle generally is blamed for acting exactly how an animal should behave, and poor Buckbeak was sentenced to death for scratching up Malfoy’s arm.

5. Indifference and neglect can cause as much damage as abuse

Hermione was first to point out a sentiment later echoed by Albus Dumbledore himself – treating non-human creatures like objects, starving them of affection and basic respect – can ultimately bite you in the butt. Perhaps Kreacher was a foul little house elf, but it was Sirius’s callous attitude toward him that inspired Kreacher’s betrayal.

6. Love is the greatest power of all

I’ve worked enough with rescued dogs to know that, almost always love is the key ingredient needed to fix a dog. A new foster asked me the other day, after she picked up her new foster puppy, “What do I need to do for her? I don’t know what I’m doing!” And I said, “Just love her.” Within hours, she was sending me pictures of a joyous puppy rather than an utterly defeated little creature. Time and time again I’ve seen simple acts of human compassion and kindness completely rehabilitate a dog. Harry Potter conquered Voldemort using this deceptively simple power. Let’s remember to use it with our own dogs. 

Why I Rescue (And Always Will)

When I was preparing to get my first dog – waaay back when I was 20 – I didn’t know much about rescues. I wanted a purebred dog and that was that. So I made a list of breeds I wanted and scrutinized the breeds in true Type-A fashion. I knew I wanted a big dog – a very big dog; my favorite breed was the Doberman Pinscher, but I was afraid that wasn’t quite big enough (90 pounds). I seriously obsessed over this list. But that truth was, any time I saw a puppy anywhere, I wanted it. And I really do think that’s how most people are – we get some notion in our heads of what we want without stopping to consider if that’s what we need or what we will want in 5 years. But the fact of the matter is, we want a dog who will love us and comfort us and just be there. And, really, any dog can do that – that’s what dogs were built for. 

So I’m going to delve a little deeper into my story in the hopes that my experiences will inspire you, when looking for your next dog, to go to a shelter or a rescue instead of a breeder.

My Rescued Dogs

I never got the chance to buy my first dog because my first dog found me. Ted was a stray; fortune tossed him in my path. I’d delayed my scheduled gym session because I was immersed in the freshly-released Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. So, thanks J.K. Rowling. My then boyfriend finally death-marched me into the car and we set off. It was July and sweltering out. As we zoomed down Stone Avenue in Tucson, we saw a lonely black shape lumbering across the road; cars were veering to avoid him. I begged Ex-Boyfriend to stop. He did. I called the dog over, and he immediately came, tongue lolling and tail wagging. We loaded him into the truck and headed home. I never did make it to the gym that day.

Ted's first picture, July 2005 

I decided to call the dog Ted – the first name off the top of my head – and started looking for his owner. We never found that owner. Ted’s been with me for over six years now. He was my first dog and, thus, my guinea pig; through trial and error I learned how to be a responsible dog owner. I bought books on training dogs and explored various techniques together with Ted. I think I did ok. Ted’s getting older and grayer, but so am I. In those years, we’ve shared so many memories. He’s traveled across the country with me more times than I care to count. He’s seen two boyfriends come and go and one come to stay (probably hehe). He’s put himself between me and danger. He’s made me laugh every single day with his ridiculously expressive eyebrows, his “talking,” and his various quirks and habits.

Ted in 2010 

My second dog was a Doberman – my dream dog. Only the dream turned out to be a nightmare. Aiden was a 100-pound red, cropped and docked show stopper. I loved him. My sister loved him. Ted hated him. I had to watch them like hawks the first three weeks because Ted was constantly trying to dominate Aiden; fortunately Aiden put up with it, because Ted certainly wouldn’t have come out top dog otherwise.

Aiden, March 2007

But Aiden was riddled with problems. He was very underweight and bore the signs of a dog who had lived outside, unloved and uncared for. We soon discovered that he was unpredictably aggressive toward humans. I tried and tried to work with him but his problems got worse. I consulted behaviorists and they all told me his problems were extreme and that he’d always be unreliable. I called the rescue and asked what to do. They told me I could bring him back and he’d spend his life in an outdoor cage by himself or I could choose to put him down. I choose to put him down. I couldn’t stand the thought of him there, alone, every single day until he died. I also knew, if he ever seriously injured someone, he’d further jeopardize the reputation of his breed. I know some people will judge me for my decision, and I’ve accepted that. But I also believe that death is a very personal thing, and that we should try not to judge people acting from their hearts. 

It was the most difficult decision in my life, and I regret it. Killing an animal is a terrible, heart-wrenching decision to make. Sitting with that animal and watching him die is worse. I remember sitting there, with his head in my lap, my sister sitting with us, and both of us bawling our eyes out. He had been sedated and his movements had gradually gotten clumsier. I couldn’t stand it – this magnificently beautiful dog, reduced to an uncoordinated mess. They administered the lethal dose of anesthetic, and about 15 seconds later, told me he was “gone.” But as his last breath left his body, he convulsed and jerked around before he lay still at last. I will never forget that.

It’s been over four years since I killed Aiden, but I still can’t tell his story without crying. I run over and over in my mind what happened, wonder if I’d tried one more method or talked to one more person, he could have been saved. I feel like I gave up on him. I killed my own dog. And I will never get over it. Aiden didn’t deserve the life he lived; he no longer trusted humans and reacted violently when he felt it was appropriate. That was not his fault. It was a human’s fault. Looking back, I am comforted only in knowing that when Aiden died, he was sleek and had put on over 20 pounds, he was loved, and he left this world in the arms of people who cared about him. Although I’ve often questioned my decision to put Aiden down, I’ve never regretted adopting him. He deserved a second chance. I only wish I could have given him a better one. Although Aiden's story is sad, I prefer to remember his moments when he showed us the shadow of the dog he could have been. Because he could be very loving and he had hilarious habits: he had a whole barrel of stuffed bears and he'd carry the barrel outside and carefully arrange his bears then sit among them like a proud mother (then one day he ate all the bears...!). Aiden was a good dog. He was marred by bad people.

If I could speak to Aiden, I'd tell him: Aiden, I am sorry. Sorry I could not help you and sorry I gave up on you. I was not ready for you and that cost you your life. The work I do now is in your memory. You are always in my heart. 

Aiden, with my sister, the day after we adopted him.

I’d like to stop here and note that, in all my years in rescue, Aiden was the only dog I could not rehabilitate. He was the only dog with severe human-directed aggression issues that I encountered. It was such an unlikely situation, so sometimes I can’t help wondering if it happened for a reason. I know Aiden’s death is a big part of what inspired me to rescue and to work with a misunderstood and ostracized breed: the pit bull. Despite my experience with Aiden, I stand by my belief that saving a life is a risk worth taking. Every time. 

After Aiden passed away, I was broken. My sister was broken. I contacted the founder of Arizona Poodle Rescue and confided in her what I had done. She responded with genuine sympathy and empathy and for that I am eternally grateful. She asked me if I was ready to foster. Three weeks after I killed Aiden, she gave me Dylan.

Dylan was a 5-month-old puppy at that time. He has been rescued with his littermates from the backyard of a breeder (a breeder of show dogs who is still recommended by the Arizona Poodle Club) who had simply left these dogs to fend for themselves. And he was a mess. He was terrified of everything: he wouldn’t walk through doors, ran when someone tried to pet him, and wouldn’t be in the same room with a child. Shortly after I rescued him, I walked into the kitchen to find him standing on the table – I reached for him and, terrified, he bit me soundly on the arm. He needed so much work and I wasn’t sure what I could do. I had failed Aiden and I was sure to fail Dylan. But I started working with him. And it eased my pain. Perhaps, if I could help this new dog, I could forgive myself for what I did to Aiden.

But, slowly, Dylan got better. And I got better. And I knew I couldn’t let him go, so I adopted him. And today, he loves people and, especially, children. He is confident and struts proudly around. He is calm and well-behaved in public. Dylan constantly receives compliments for his behavior and stops traffic with his looks. He is every bit a show dog and he knows it.

Dylan swimming in the ocean in Louisiana 

My Foster Dogs

Over the years, I’ve opened my home to dozens of dogs, each with their own story to tell. These dogs all have been loving, affectionate, entertaining individuals. Many of them have been traffic-stopping gorgeous. Most of them enjoy walking and hiking and being outdoors. And they’ve all become fabulous best friends. Now, maybe rescued dogs are damaged goods. And maybe some of them come with some baggage. But so do we. It gives us character, and it does the same for dogs. I think it makes them even better companions than brand new puppies – they’ve lived life and they don’t take things for granted. Maybe I’m anthropomorphizing, but I don’t think so. I’ve experienced this gratitude time and time again from rescued dogs.

Jade, with her head in my lap while I work

After working with Arizona Poodle Rescue for a couple years, I was trusted to do just about everything, and that included visiting the high-kill shelters and pulling dogs. The work was smelly and dirty and just plain depressing. But that’s when it really hit me: these dogs were dying because no one came for them. These dogs, just about all of whom would make perfect pets for people like you and me, were dying by the dozens every single day. At that point I knew, I’d never buy a dog. Once you step behind the scenes at a shelter, you can’t really justify it. The dogs on the kill lists were usually young and often purebred. Death does not discern between pedigrees.

Sweetie, just after rescue 

It’s funny. We want purebred dogs because they look unique and because they possess a uniform set of character traits. But the reality is, they’ve been breed to all look the same and, really, breed only supplies a small percentage of a dog’s character traits. Sure, many Heelers will herd and many labs will fetch. But just about every dog I’ve met loves a good game of fetch – and I’m not really sure why any of us regular people needs a dog that will herd. In fact, the reason so many purebred dogs end up in shelters (about a third of shelter dogs are purebred) is because people failed to consider these variations, and failed to consider what made sense for their lives. At its most basic level, buying a purebred dog is a very shallow decision.

Dylan snuggles with Mya and Meg 

With my own rescue efforts, especially because I am constantly battling breed stereotypes, my mantra is: “every dog is an individual and deserves to be treated as such.” So, I urge you, go check out the individuals at your local shelters, talk to the workers, and let them help you pick out a dog that truly fits who you are. And I hope that rescuing a dog changes you and impacts your life for the better like it has for me. And when you do find that perfect rescue dog – because you will – walk with your head a little higher, because you just made a very real difference. You just saved a life. 

Michael Vick: Another Perspective

The Vick debate has re-ignited following Vick’s lucrative contract offer from the Eagles. Folks essentially fall neatly into two categories: (1) Vick did his time, let him play and (2) Despite his sentence, Vick has not paid for his sins. I fall into the final category, and I hope this article will illuminate why, as an attorney, rescuer, and lover of pit bulls, I am committed to this opinion. 

The Dogs

Michael Vick established Bad Newz Kennel in 2001. For six years he and his cronies committed unspeakable acts of animal cruelty upon the dogs in their care. In 2007, Fifty-four dogs were confiscated from Vick’s property. One dog had to be euthanized because she suffered from serious medical conditions – conditions that Vick did not treat despite the millions of dollars he raked in from his NFL job and the thousands he earned in fighting prizes.

Vicks dogs were beaten, abused, and riddled with issues from dog aggression, to intense fears of humans and new situations, to (in only a single case) human aggression. Mel, for example, used as a bait dog in Vick’s operation, is so terrified of new humans that he convulses in tremors and cowers in fear when strangers approach him. But even Mel has made remarkable progress and he and almost all the other Vick dogs have been adopted into loving families where they live with children, dogs, and cats. They have inspired their caretakers to start dog rescues, foundations that fund rescues, and become breed champions.

Michael Vick’s tale has been called “the ultimate redemption story.” But this is inaccurate. The Vicktory dogs are the ultimate redemption story.

So, I’d like to take a moment up front to say: Vicktory dogs and caretakers, I honor you.

Let’s move on to a more technical discussion.

The Cases:

Michael Vick and his dogs were involved in three separate cases: a federal criminal case, United States v. Peace, Phillips, Taylor & Vick; a state criminal case, Commonwealth of Virginia v. Vick; and a civil case concerning the disposition of the dogs, United States v. Approximately 53 Pit Bull Dogs.

Michael Vick was charged with several federal offenses for trafficking dogs for illegal purposes, gambling, and other serious crimes. Vick could have spent decades in prison. Instead, he accepted a plea deal at the federal level, and plead guilty to a single count: Conspiracy to Travel in Interstate Commerce in Aid of Unlawful Activities and to Sponsor a Dog in an Animal Fighting Venture. The charge carried a maximum penalty of 5 years in prison, $250,000 in fines, and/or full restitution. Michael Vick received 23 months in prison and served 20 of those months; he currently is on probation.

Michael Vick also was indicted at the state level for violating state animal cruelty and dog fighting laws – all felonies. Vick was charged with four felony animal cruelty charges  and faced a maximum of 10 years in prison. He again accepted a plea deal, and plead guilty to dog fighting charges; the state dropped the animal cruelty charges. Vick received a three-year suspended sentence and a $2,500 fine that was also suspended conditioned on his behavior.

Vick’s civil case resulted in an order that he pay for the care of the dogs he abused, with each dog assessed a lifetime fee of $5,000 to $20,000. These fees were used to build suitable living areas for the dogs heading to rescues, and to pay for their medical bills and other care. These fees did not cover all the costs that rescues accumulated – and continue to accumulate – to care for these dogs. 

So, Vick, facing a total of 15 years in prison, received two, and escaped charges for the issues that incited outrage in animal lovers around the country: in the eyes of the law, he is not an animal abuser. I have a problem with that.

There were, of course, people who thought Vick’s sentence was too harsh:

Vick is a first time offender. He expressed remorse, publicly apologized, shelled out nearly a million bucks for the upkeep of the impounded animals, and likely won't play another down in the NFL. Vick's life and career is wrecked. The feds and the public have more than gouged their pound of flesh out of him. - Earl Ofari Hutchinson, 2007 

It looks like Mr. Hutchinson should eat some (most) of his words. Assuming Mr. Hutchinson’s conclusions are an aggregate of his assumptions concerning Vick’s career and mentality toward his dogs as well as his legal sanctions, if seems Vick has escaped much of the harshness of which the critics speak.

The NFL

This past week, football fans and pit bull fans alike learned that Michael Vick has accepted a $100,000,000 contract to play for the Eagles -- $38,000,000 of which is guaranteed. It may seem unfair that Vick is receiving a tidy paycheck, his past crimes largely forgotten. But it also seems contrary to NFL policy and procedure.

Back when Vick was arrested, the NFL had this to say about his conduct: "The activities alleged are cruel, degrading and illegal … Michael Vick's guilt has not yet been proven, and we believe that all concerned should allow the legal process to determine the facts. The matter will be reviewed." Well now that Vick has been convicted, perhaps the NFL has reviewed the matter and appropriately sanctioned him; it has not.

Perhaps there are no NFL conduct policies that apply to Vick’s personal conduct. But there are.

Under its personal conduct policy, the league can fine or suspend players for criminal activity. In particular,

All persons associated with the NFL are required to avoid “conduct detrimental to the integrity of and public confidence in the National Football League.” This requirement applies to players, coaches, other team employees, owners, game officials and all others privileged to work in the National Football League. 

There you go: everyone privileged to work in the NFL. Multi-million dollar athlete salaries are not legal rights, they are privileges. They must be earned and can be taken away. I support second chances – I run a dog rescue after all – and I am liberal enough to support a system that allows convicted criminals to integrate back into society and become contributing members of society. If Vick got out of prison and got a regular job doing something like scrubbing toilets or waiting table I’d be ok with that. But he didn’t. Instead, he’s living a dream millions of talented young men would die to live, and he’s being lauded as a hero for climbing to this position not once, but twice.

But, why? Or better yet, how?  I have the questions, but not the answers.

The NFL is generous enough to forego discipline for first-time offenders; however this leniency does not apply where the charges involve “significant bodily harm.” Vick was personally involved in the killing of at least 6-8 pit bulls – how could this not qualify as “significant bodily harm”?

Vick isn’t exactly a first-time offender, either. In 2004 he was lectured by the coach after two men driving his truck were arrested on drug charges. In 2006 he was fined $10,000 – and paid an additional $10,000 to charity – because he flipped off fans after a loss to the Saints. Said Vick of the sanction: “I broke the rules and I have to pay the price.” So if $10,000 is the appropriate price for flipping someone the bird in the NFL, the price for fighting and killing dogs as well as breaking federal gambling and interstate commerce laws is….$0?

NFL policy itself comments on the necessity of appropriately sanctioning players, stating that 

For many years, it has been well understood that rules promoting lawful, ethical, and responsible conduct serve the interests of the League, its players, and fans. Illegal or irresponsible conduct does more than simply tarnish the offender. It puts innocent people at risk, sullies the reputation of others involved in the game, and undermines public respect and support for the NFL. 

Vick started organizing his kennel in 2001 – the same year he was signed to the NFL. He operated that kennel for 6 years and stopped only because he was caught. Perhaps Vick will not return to the fighting ring now that he’s been caught, but why isn’t 6 years of violent, federal and state violations enough to warrant ejectment from the NFL? Perhaps the NFL thought Vick’s legal sanctions were enough. I disagree. And I say: NFL, I have lost respect for your organization. For an institution that has retained the power to cull players not suitable to represent the league, it seems these powers are rusty from disuse.

Greg Aiello, the NFL’s VP of public relations, added that NFL sanctions and programs to deal with offenders target not only public opinion but also seek to eliminate recidivism. That is, non-legal consequences for bad acts should deter future bad acts.

Most NFL players are good citizens, and some are outstanding citizens, It's a small percentage of the 2,000 players in our league that becomes involved in incidents that do not reflect well on the NFL. We have policies and programs to deal aggressively with those issues, and we will continue to do so. The goal is to eliminate all such negative conduct. That may not be realistic, but that is the goal.

.  

I suppose I can’t fault Vick for not resigning and turning down millions of dollars – he is an opportunist for sure. But I can fault to NFL for failing to act on any of its stated policies regarding player personal conduct.

Forgiving Vick

Vick’s partnership with the Humane Society of the United States  received much publicity. Perhaps Vick has learned his lesson and is being sincere when he speaks out against dog fighting. But I can’t help noticing the irreconcilable conflicts that exist between his message and his lifestyle: fight dogs and retain public figure status, and millions of dollars in endorsements and contract payments. And I, for one, would not want Vick as the spokesperson for my organization – it’s all just too fishy for me.

I also find it hard to believe that anyone has to be taught that killing dogs and watching dogs tear each other to shreds is wrong, sick, and cruel. I find it shameful and insulting that he tried to blame “black culture” for his descent into immorality. A role model who blames his culture for his own decisions is not a good role model for youngsters from the same culture – giving off the impression that personal decisions are trumped by social inclinations gives off a sense of powerlessness not empowerment.

I find his remorse harder to swallow when I found this quote from him:  "It's almost as if everyone wanted to hate me. But what have I done to anybody? It was something that happened, and it was people trying to make some money."  I cannot understand why someone making millions would need to further augment his cash flow by fighting dogs. Michael Vick may be black, but he was not living in poverty when he founded Bad Newz Kennels. 

I am a forgiving person. I do not believe that carrying hate in my heart will inflict damage upon anyone but myself. So, Michael Vick, if you are truly remorseful and a changed man, then I forgive you. But I do not forget. In fact, in a country where the legal system treats pets like property and assigns minimal sanctions for the cruelest cases of abuse, I see no reason why I should forget.

The Vick case is a complicated collection of legal red tape, institutional policy, and social norms. It raises several very serious questions the inevitable interactions between these entities.

But what I think is this: social ostracism is part of the sanction for bad acts. And I think it can be useful in the right contexts. Ostracism is established part of our legal systems and is used as a consequence and a deterrent on a national and international level. We register sex offenders. We expect public apologies from high-profile criminals. Global treaties often are “soft laws,” that is, enforceable only by pressure and views expressed by citizens or other nations.

In a case like Vick’s, where the system failed and the dogs did not see justice, I think it is singularly valuable. That is, if the courts didn’t give Vick a strong enough sentence, we can hardly expect Vick to complain or courts to go back and impose a harsher one (they can’t) but we have no obligation to use our resources to fund his lifestyle. And neither do institutions like the NFL. And since the NFL sees fit to fund his lifestyle, it is up to individuals to continue to sanction Vick for his conduct. Because Vick is not a regular Joe working a blue collar job – he is a public figure. He is ours. He reflects our values and represents who we are as individuals and a collective society. And we have a right to take issue with that.

And in the words of Richard Hunter, who owns Mel, "Some people wonder, are we ever going to let Michael Vick get beyond all this? …  “I tell them, let's let Mel decide that. When he stops shaking, maybe then we can talk." 

Letter to Protest Breed Discrimination

It can be hard for breed advocates to figure out what exactly to do to encourage change -- be it within public perceptions, local or state laws, or owner behaviors. There are many avenues for advocacy. I thought I'd focus today on letter writing. Some may roll their eyes and think, "gee, what's a silly letter going to to?" But a well-written appeal carries weight; I've had a lot of positive feedback from lawmakers I've taken the time to write.


It's important to write letters that are relatively brief, dispassionate, and well-researched. You want to come off as a credible professional, not some nutcase on the loose. I've included below a copy of a letter I drafted for council members in a Washington city. I hope you find it useful. Please feel free to use this format as a template for your own letters.


Cheers!

Letter in Opposition to Chapter 6.18 of the Yakima Municipal Code

My name is Gemma Zanowski; I am an attorney in here in Washington and have been actively involved in canine rescue efforts and advocacy since 2004. I am writing to request that the Yakima Council repeal Chapter 6.18, the Pit Bull ban. The American Pit Bull Terrier, and related breeds (“pit bull type dogs”) are fully capable of living long lives as beloved family companions. Unfortunately, many are not given this opportunity because of misguided legislation that generalizes their characteristics based on unfounded stereotypes and fears. Chapter 6.18 of the Yakima Municipal Code is an example of such legislation.

There exists one principal study used to support the notion that pit bulls are dangerous: Breeds of Dogs Involved in Fatal Human Attacks in the United States between 1979 and 1998. The oft-debated element of the study is the percentage of total fatalities attributable to pit bull type dogs. However, as the researchers involved with the study have emphasized, it is impossible to extrapolate overall breed viciousness without knowing the base population of the breed, which the study did not know. The Center for Disease Control, the researchers themselves, and other researchers have since concluded that this study should not be used as a basis for breed discriminatory legislation (BDL). A second body of information has been used to misattribute aggressive incidents to pit bull type dogs. This study was conducted by Merritt Cliffton and is an incomplete, inaccurate, and shamefully biased compilation of media reports from a twenty-year period. Thorough investigation has revealed it to be garbage veiled in postulations of science. It must be disregarded.

Conversely, no reputable animal welfare agency or rescue supports BDL or the notion that pit bull type dogs are more likely to attack humans. In fact, pit bull type dogs routinely outperform many “family-friendly” dog breeds on temperament tests and credible research echoes this performance record. Further, no credible study on BDL has found discriminatory measures to be effective; in fact, bite incidence remains consistent with breed population.

I wholeheartedly support stringent dog that focus on owner culpability; t dangerous humans who indulge high-risk environments. If dogs are deemed dangerous this status should be considered based on individual behaviors, and not merely on their physical characteristics or reputation. The City of Yakima already has a dangerous dog law in place that describes particular behaviors that make an individual dog dangerous. An additional focus on pit bulls is extraneous and overbroad as it targets a class of animals of which most will never pose a public safety threat.

With the dire economic situation currently in Washington, non-essential spending should be clipped wherever possible. Best Friends Society fiscal impact estimator indicates that Yakima is spending around $100,000 a year to enforce Chapter 6.18 – money that would more prudently be spent to battle the chief causes of dog aggression: intact animals, chaining, and abuse.

Currently Washington is considering SB 5151, which would establish a state-wide low-cost spay and neuter program in order to curb dog bite incidences and pet overpopulation. If the bill does not pass, there is no reason the City of Yakima cannot consider a similar provision. Further, the City of Yakima does not have an anti-chaining ordinance; as 25 percent of dog bite fatalities involve chained dogs, it would be prudent for the Council to consider an ordinance that regulates chaining as well.

As dogs are considered property, accountability for their actions should fall squarely on the shoulders of dog owners. BDL provisions ultimately and strangely hold dogs accountable for their lineage, as the animal is impounded and in many cases euthanized merely for being of a particular breed. US ideologies increasingly reflect individual autonomy, and firmly established constitutional principles favor a presumption of innocence; Chapter 6.18 and similar discriminatory provisions in other localities contradict these tenets.

Change is coming. Thirteen states have already written laws that forbid discrimination based on breed alone. Ohio, the only state with state-wide BDL, has voted to overturn the legislation in the House and awaits Senate approval. I urge the City of Yakima to become a frontrunner in this change. Repealing an out-dated ordinance such as Chapter 6.18 is the first step in establishing a comprehensive, effective dangerous dog plan. I welcome emails or phone calls to further discuss my position. 

Director Story: Gemma

Those who know me know I don't have a pit bull of my own, so it may seem strange that I founded and run a pit bull rescue. I never really intended to start rescuing pit bulls; like so many of my great fellow advocates, I fell into the breed by accident. I never had any loathing for the breed -- I just never had any convictions. I liked dobermans and rottweilers. I don't have any of those, either. My dogs tend to find me, so it's not really a surprise that pit bulls found me too.

My first breed contact came from a pit bull-American Bulldog mix puppy my sister and her boyfriend procured from a person selling puppies on the side of the road. Scrappy fell ill with parvo almost immediately, and my sister diligently nursed him back to health from the brink of death. Scrappy was a very sweet and loving dog, and he put up with a lot of my sister's kissing, squishing, and fussing, which, believe me, says a lot about a dog's tolerance level! I liked Scrappy, Scrappy was a pit bull, thus, in my mind, pit bulls were a pretty decent breed of dog.

My sister Julia and Scrappy. 

When I started looking for volunteer work in Tucson, I contacted a few dog rescues, including a local pit bull rescue. The only rescue that contacted me back was Arizona Poodle Rescue, so for years I fostered and rehabilitated poodles, eventually adopting my own Standard Poodle -- a 5-month-old male who came from a breeder neglect situation and had severe emotional hurdles to overcome. I love the breed, and I loved the people with whom I worked, but my many visits to the county shelter illuminated the real need for people willing to rescue the dogs off the nightly kill list we rescuers were sent each day.

So in 2008 I founded Revamped Rovers, with the idea of taking only dogs that were going to be put down within the next 24 hours. What I got were pit bulls. Oodles of pit bulls. These dogs were all young, friendly, and adaptable; they had just run out of time. Before I knew it, I had three pit bulls and three resident dogs living in my home (Yes, peacefully). What I discovered from these first three dogs were three distinct, wonderful personalities, with one trait in common: Rain (now Sunshine) loved to snuggle, was active and bouncy, and a very quick learner; Meg (now Maggie) also loved to snuggle, was quiet and obedient, and loved all animals -- large and small; Mya (now Brendi) was spunky, feisty, and -- oh yeah -- loved to cuddle.

Meg, my all-time favorite foster 

Now, the sight or mention of a pit bull may strike terror into the hearts of some people -- and I respect that...you are afraid of what you're afraid of, although I do encourage folks to open their minds before making decisions. But a pit bull to me is a ball of snuggles and kisses and tail wags. I've just never met an exception, and this is the original breed description. Pit bulls are a breed bred to adore people, and most of them excel at this.

Somewhere in between volunteering with poodle rescue and founding my own program, I realized that pit bulls had a horrible, undeserved reputation. I started researching and found that the claims offered against the breed were baseless, exaggerated, and sensationalized. It was the moment I realized that these dogs needed a voice that I committed myself to being that voice. For the past three years I've been a champion for the breed. In 2011 I changed the name of the rescue to Tough Love Pit Bull Rescue to better represent the causes for which I advocate. Now, I know dogs bite. I know some dogs injure human beings and other dogs. But I stand by my belief that every dog deserves the chance to be treated as an individual. Every dog deserves a real second chance.

So I will work every day. I will spend my own money. I will write letters, articles, and books on behalf of these dogs. We've all made mistakes. We've all needed to start over. We've all been judged too swiftly. I am hardly the exception. So I urge people to seek their hearts and lend the compassion they'd hope be lent to them to these dogs. I believe my life experiences with dogs led me to do what I do. It isn't easy every day, and some moments are downright gut-wrenching. But I will continue to rescue and advocate for pit bulls every single day until I'm too old and feeble to press on. And I only hope I can inspire others to carry on when I'm gone.

Ted, Jade, Dylan, and I on our way from Louisiana to Seattle.