Wednesday, August 6, 2008

One more day?

Tomorrow is the day scheduled for Brindi's euthanization. 

I've requested a written confirmation from everybody I can think of, but have nothing so far. I am just crossing my fingers that SOMEBODY has pulled the right piece of paper from the right place, or however it's done, so it does not go through. 

What is going on? Not enough, not yet...
Yesterday at around 11 am, my city city counselor, David Hendsbee, met me at Tim Horton's not far from the Metro SPCA facility where Brindi is kept, and kindly listened to all I had to say. I showed him the petition and the Facebook group, as well as the many letters I received from people who know Brindi professionally and personally.  

Apparently the physical location of Animal Services office is an official secret. David suggested we first go to the SPCA and check on Brindi. I agreed, of course! All I have is word of a verbal agreement between two lawyers, and no response to the letter I faxed to the supervisor days ago.

At the SPCA, the two of us waited patiently on line while others applied for adoptions and asked to walk dogs. David only had an hour to spare before a Council session, and was dressed in a blue pinstripe suit. Being very tall as well, he easily stood out in that small office. When it was our turn half an hour later, he asked to see Brindi. The volunteer at the desk retreated to check with the manager. She came back to tell David he needed authorization from Animal Services. David waited a bit after the SPCA called in, then phoned them himself. Incidentally: David is an avid animal control proponent. He worked on the first draft of the current law, and favors the "one-bite" muzzle rule - muzzling after a dog bites a human one time. His main concern was protecting humans from dogs, and he was surprised at how the law is being enforced here. 

David was very firm, but the manager of Animal Services would not give her consent to either the two of us or David alone to see my dog. In an ironic twist, she even cited concern for Brindi as a reason: they didn't want her to become distressed after seeing her owner. Ultimately, she told David to call her boss, a police official who oversees her department. Unfortunately, that official did not answer. In the end, we left the SPCA without seeing Brindi. All I had been able to do, other than grip a chair and choke back a few sobs, was ask a volunteer to at least confirm that Brindi was still alive. She first declined, then returned to say yes, my dog was there, andis  healthy. More than that, she could not say. 

I phoned my lawyer, David Green, with the news from the parking lot. He felt the case should not have prevented them from showing my dog to a city councilman, and he said, well, we'd better file the papers right away, because it's only two days away from August 7. I agreed.

Failure
It was very tough to leave the SPCA. I spent a few minutes in the parking area, looking at the river, trying not to scream, sobbing, wondering how things ever came to this. How screwed up is my life, that now my dog has to suffer for it? I didn't want to go home. It was hard enough driving around without Brindi in the back, loving the wind on her face. I ended up doing errands and visiting people until about 5 pm, 24 hours ago from now. 

Now that the papers are being filed, or already filed, I feel I can start contacting other media, although I cannot say I am looking forward to this. But I was delighted to hear that members of the Facebook group, led by Michael Asuncion, are writing to every one of our 23 council members for help. Since the mayor's office declined my request to meet with him about Brindi, citing the court case, I am very grateful for this. 

Mike tried to fight By-Law A300 before it was passed. He even started a website: Declaw.the.byaw: How Does Bylaw A300 Harm Dogs? Other people have written to tell me that back then, they tried to tell the city that something like this would happen. 

As for me, it's hot. I am missing the best weather of the year, and so is Brindi, who trudged through about six months of winter with me. 

I am seriously afraid I am not up to this task. It would be best if I could get a fence put up, but how - I can barely keep up on the emails and calls right now. So far today, I could only manage to eat one thing: a chocolate ice cream cone. It was the only food I wouldn't gag on. I managed to do a little laundry, but my kitchen has dishes dating to before Brindi's seizure. I need to sit down and revise my construction drawings so that I can start a new contractor on the house - or else I will end up freezing through another winter. Already the footings are rotting with all the water from the heavy rains; I spotted some green algae on a few sections. My throat hurts, and it was so hoarse yesterday, I could not control the pitch at all. It sounded like it had pieces of straw poking out of it. I hope it's better if I get the chance to speak on the radio. 





Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Too boring?

I suppose a woman losing her dog to the dogcatchers is hardly something to cause a big outcry in this world, in this year of weekly batches of civilian killings, of bombs and storms and earthquakes.

I am aware of this, and I do apologize if I am not able to put it into perspective, or if I seem to be exaggerating the impact of losing my dog to an excessive application of local by-laws. I may fail a lot, but I try always to see the pain and suffering of others; I don't doubt my few friends out there are sick of my constant "forwards" of shocking headlines and calls to action. I mourn the environment, and the burning wrecks of institutions all around. 

But a big focus of my perspective, what helps me balance it all out, is my dog, a creature I happen to love dearly and deeply. She is my life partner, and she helps me survive the world's outrages.

Pets are therapeutic. Brindi is a rescued rescuer. She kept her puppies alive in pelting rain; she gives me the strength to get up and do what needs to be done. 

For every moment of fear she may have caused on a handful of occasions, she has rewarded me, and people around, with millions of delights. She only needs, and in fact really wants, to learn. This is for some the true purpose of life. 

I made some mistakes - but my motives were good: to give her a good life. I just didn't get it all in place, in time. It now becomes my challenge to learn to speak the right sort of truth to a different side of power - the levels of power are different, the challenge is the same. 

Monday, August 4, 2008

Waiting it out in the rain

Almost two weeks!!! The longest Brindi has ever been away from me during the past year is ten days, when I had to take a trip. 

Usually it's not more than an hour or two (I know, what can I say?). She stayed in Belle Kennel, in Porters Lake, a clean, pretty place, where there are long pens in the woods for the dogs to run around in. She got along well there. But for an entire week after returning home, she would not look me in the eye. Forgiveness is not instantaneous, even for a dog. I am her trusted human, and in her eyes I am responsible for what happens to her. And I am. So how hurt and confused is she now? This awareness is impossible for me to live with.

Thank you so much to all those who visit this site, and those who signed the petition. Your comments are wonderful. To those who made proposals to take Brindi away from the area, I am very touched by your generosity. However, since my lawyer's offer was declined, it seems the city is not interested in such an alternative. I am not sorry: now it's off the table, the only options appear to be putting her down or giving her back to me. With the help of many others, I will do my best to achieve the latter. Brindi's best home is here. We are very happy together. What we need is a good FENCE, and some hard work on recall commands at special training farm like Lietash Academy, as well as on my property - even with a fence. A trainer suggested how: walking new dogs along the road, and testing Brindi's recall - probably using a lead so that she cannot get close to them.   
 
Let me tell you about her non-threatening behavior...
A few weeks ago, I was at the beach with Brindi, standing  in the parking area, when seven people and seven large dogs strolled by about fifty feet away. Brindi, on a stay command, just eyed them with calm interest, made a few friendly sounds, but did not lunge or pull away. I was very proud of her. She stays in the car when I open the door, waiting for my command to get out.
 
In the morning, while I dress, I tell her to "go downstairs", and she'll sit at the foot of the stairs until I join her. She'll do the opposite while I stay in the kitchen. She knows commands for down, right paw, left paw, up (to jump for a treat), and when I say "bang", shaping my hand into a gun, she'll drop down and lie there. She waits in her bed while I serve up her dinner, until I put her dish down and say "eat your food". When I say "go to sleep", she'll put her head down and relax - usually does go to sleep. When we walk on the road, she is trained to stand still when a car passes. Her "heel" isn't too shabby. She is not "mouthy", and I don't play tug of war with her or encourage her to gum my hand. When she affectionately greets a person, she won't lick their face, just moves in very close to look searchingly into their eyes.

Brindi rarely barks in the house. When she's out back on the line, between walks, she will bark when someone goes by, but she never protects the house from inside. She lived outside before going to the shelter; maybe it never occurs to her to guard the house from inside. I try to encourage Brindi to bark when somebody is at the door, but she rarely does. Her deep bark belongs to a dog twice her size; it can sound intimidating. But she is usually wagging her tail playfully. Around other people, male or female, she has never been protective of me, never emits a low growl as some dogs do when they get too close. If she gets jealous when I'm petting the cats, she does not attack them, just comes wagging her tail, sweetly trying to win away my attention. 

I wish I had a video of her climbing up and down boulders, or pushing her way through the wildflowers. 

Please, let's get her back!!! 


 

Keeping on

 
Another post for today: to be sure to say how very grateful I am for the new Facebook group started yesterday by Pami Pantigoso, a CET trainer out in Calgary. Already 55 members!! And so many kind words from around the globe.

Hoping that it works, I am posting a little clip so that everybody can see how great Brindi was, straight from the shelter. It is from early July last year, just three weeks after I got her on June 12. She was so afraid to let me get too far away. It was great to see her gain confidence in her surroundings every day. She is as fast as a bullet on flat beaches, and it was thrilling to see her give chase to birds I could hear but not see in the fog. Her broad chest must give her lots of lung capacity. Reminds me of reading about the famous triple crown winner, Man'O'War. Big Red: he had a muscular wide chest and bow-legs, nobody thought he'd be any good!

My god, is this real? What will it take to get her back?
 

Sunday, August 3, 2008

They want to kill my dog.

They really do. And it makes no sense to me.

Brindi is a five year old shepherd-lab mix. I adopted her from a shelter about a year ago. Until recently, she lived quite happily with me and my two cats, Amelia and Rudy. Shortly before 9 pm on July 24, 2008, animal control officers from the city of Halifax appeared at my door. They entered without a word, then showed me a court order to seize Brindi for euthanization. They took her to the city pound and scheduled her to be killed on August 7.

Yet Brindi has never bitten a human being or seriously injured another dog.
 
She is gentle and sweet with children and adults, and gets along well with most dogs she meets. She quickly learned to get along with my two cats. She loves to run on the beach, roll around in grassy fields, and go sledding on her back in winter. She goes with me everywhere, waiting patiently in my car when I do errands. Brindi saved my life: after months of depression, she got me up and out each morning, walking and playing. I lost twenty pounds without dieting. More importantly: she loves me, and I love her. I simply cannot rest until she is back.

What went wrong?

While I generally am able to keep Brindi under my control, on certain occasions, resulting from unfortunate coincidences, she suddenly went after other dogs. She grabbed them by the scruff of the neck and just held. I was able to separate them quickly, and none of the dogs required extensive medical treatments. The first was apparently reported not because of the other dog’s condition – the owner declined my offer to pay for a vet - but out of concern that “it might have been a child”. The police issued me a warning and a further one for not having a municipal licence, which I made sure to obtain immediately. The second incident, reported last April, resulted in a minor injury and would have normally resulted in a fine, possibly an order to build a fence . Instead, they issued Brindi, who rarely ever licks anybody, let alone threatens them, with a permanent muzzle order, requiring strict compliance, even on my own property.

Why was this done? 
Records show that the animal control officer on the case brought the muzzle order into play when the other owner expressed concern for my costs, since I had already offered to pay for her $150 visit to the vet (the cost of a general exam for a new patient, and precautionary antibiotics for small puncture wounds). I do not know if she was cognizant that a muzzle order would effectively hold a death warrant over my dog's head. Once in place, rigid local by-laws dictate euthanization after any further violation, regardless of mitigating or extenuating circumstances - even if she was seen without the muzzle on for a moment. 

When the same officer issued me the muzzle order, he claimed it was his boss's response to a number of phone calls demanding Brindi be put down, suggesting that this may be because of my outsider status. He swore he had nothing to do with it. When I begged him to let me pay a fine and build a fence instead, he said the muzzle order was permanent and could not be appealed. Suddenly, Brindi was no longer a dog with a challenging dominance problem: she was a threat to public safety.

In a community where a wide range of dog behavior is tolerated, this heavyhanded action was baffling. To avoid another incident, I began agility training with Brindi in April, to improve her recall, and I planned to build a fence as soon as it was physically possible. This summer, I began work on my heritage home, a major renovation to add a new foundation for a basement and garage. The contractor failed to meet a completion date of August 1 - not even close - and until I can get things going again, the house remains lifted on steel beams, surrounded by rocky piles of dirt.

On July 20, Brindi slipped out my patio door before I could finish muzzling and leashing her. We both nearly fell off the ramp - would have been impaled on the rebars sticking up from the footings, about ten feet down! The workers put up a railing only on one side of the ramp and it's quite a slope, plus the cord was further out. She startled me without warning, and I lost my grip. Luckily I managed not to fall. I ran after her, calling, over and through huge piles of rocks and dirt on my property. A man I never saw before was walking two dogs in front of my house. One was little, carried in his hands, the other was black, like a lab. I saw Brindi circle and then the man kicking at her head. I begged him not to kick her because it really looked like he was making contact. I think she must have been ducking though and she never snapped at him, nor did she bite his dog; seconds later a passing driver honked and she ran across the street, then back to my house, where she parked herself right in front of the door. The driver got out of his car - smiled at me - and got back in and left. The man with the dogs, whom I did not know, scolded me to tie up my dog and left before I could finish a sentence, let alone apologize or see how his dog was. He later said that he hadn't thought to call Animal Control until he heard about earlier incidents. Probably the rumor going around, that Brindi tore open a dog's stomach, which a friend's son heard on the school bus, or something equally false. In any event, none of my friends and neighbors knew who he was; even my mail carrier didn't recognize the description and she knows everybody. I had no idea he even called animal control. The seizure order and a euthanization order were issued four days later. This is incredible. Before this, not even a fine, and now? I thought they had to do an investigation, and they didn't tell me about the call, let alone ask me for a statement. Aren't they supposed to do this?? They wouldn't even tell me what they were doing here until they got inside my house, then they said "You know why we're here, right?" NO. 

Brindi is now in the SPCA-run city pound. Instead of hour-long strolls in the park, she is only walked for five minutes, three times a day. I am not permitted to see her. Unless I can manage to win an expensive court case against the city, I will never see Brindi again!

What can be done?
I am desperate. Pitted against the fears and speculation of a relative few is a year’s worth of experience in which Brindi proved herself in public: frequent attendance at local ballgames and charity events with thousands of guests, visits to children and elderly neighbors, and beach outings with friends and their dogs. She even comes with me to the local wildlife rehab center, and to downtown Halifax for waterfront strolls.

Wanting to insure that Brindi fits into my little household and is a good member of the community, I spent many hours training and socializing her. We often visit a friend who owns a cute and feisty shitzu, Teddy. Brindi calmly tolerates his bluster while I chat with his owner. Then I walk the two dogs together for a spell, and Brindi behaves beautifully. It was a shock when I first witnessed her dominant streak, because it is so out of character, and we had just successfully finished obedience classes. I took heart in the knowledge that I would soon have a fence and be able to train her further. Too late!

For me, the excruciating pain of separation is compounded by horror and disbelief that in a case where no serious harm was inflicted, the city will actually kill a dog rather than punish me, her human owner and the responsible party. As a single woman, public safety is certainly important to me. I do not want people to worry about walking by my house. I have offered to install a fence right away, and work with a special trainer to correct her behavior. I will pay whatever fines and boarding costs are imposed. Animal Services has not responded to my offer, and the city's lawyer declined my lawyer’s proposal to send Brindi to stay at an out of town facility until her behavior can be improved. Instead, Halifax appears determined to kill my dog. 

A Frightening Precedent 
How unthinkable is it that a dog like Brindi could be killed? I have been working non-stop for ten days and nights, making lists, calling and emailing friends, and  working with my municipal councilor and several lawyers – yet there is still no end in sight. 

The lawyer I engaged has saved many dogs from euthanization, but incredibly, he lost a case last year over a dog that never bit a human. In a single incident with a greyhound, the struggle badly tore and bruised its thin skin. A judge decided the dog was dangerous, and the owner chose not to appeal. The city put the dog down. No one I know heard about this, nor are they fully aware of the policy behind it.

HELP SAVE BRINDI!

From the minute they drove the big white truck away with Brindi sitting quietly in a locked metal cage, I began looking for help everywhere and anywhere - that is, after I finished screaming long and hard, enough to damage my vocal chords. For the last ten days, have been phoning, emailing, and visiting people, soliciting letters of support, and basically going crazy. 

While my lawyer admonishes that there is no guarantee it will help save Brindi, I am very grateful for the response so far:
  • Brindi's trainer wrote that while her behavior can be dangerous, there is no correlation between dogs biting dogs and dogs biting humans. 
  • Brindi's vet, whose lab puppy was Brindi's classmate in her obedience course, noted that aggression is not flagged in her medical file. 
  • Letters to animal services from the owner of the kennel where Brindi stayed for ten days last January, and from her beloved groomer, do not view Brindi as aggressive or dangerous. On the contrary: months ago, the groomer loves her so much, she offered to dog-sit her for free while I shop. The kennel owner says she is welcome any time. 
  • Our woman mail carrier, definitely not a doglover, wrote she is sure Brindi would never bite her - she's been at my door many times, even came inside without Brindi ever taking notice (like I said, she's a terrible watchdog!).
  • About a dozen other folks, many of them dogowners, have written in support, and at least another dozen phoned animal services supervisor Lori Scolaro who issued the “humane” euthanasia order for my dog.
  • Another thirty people have given their names in support of Brindi, including members of local "oldtimer" baseball teams. They made Brindi welcome at postgame celebrations in their clubhouse.
Last night I learned that a neighbor I don't even know started a petition to save Brindi. The kids next door promised to write their own letters as well. They understood that Brindi’s problem may stem from her early days running with other dogs on a native reserve. That is where she was abandoned, tied to a stoop, in a cardboard box in the rain: she was using her body to shield her newborn puppies inside. 

After Brindi and her puppies were found, they received good care at a nearby shelter. The puppies were soon adopted, but Brindi waited a total of two years before she could re-emerge. She was in excellent health and eager to please. Every day, she showers me with affection and love. She takes great joy in every moment, and is very patient and trusting of me. When I think of this, I just cannot bear that she is caged in a hot, smelly pound instead of lying by my side!!

This morning, I woke again after only three hours of sleep, body stiff from days of panic. I can't walk anywhere without her. My brain cannot adjust to this bizarre reality. I will never be able to forgive myself if I fail to save her.