Message from Colorado

These are some wonderful friends of Rolo, a German Shepherd

who was in a situation very much like Brindi's not long ago.

They took a break from his birthday party to send a message to Halifax 

from the icy cold of Evergreen, Colorado. 

My sincerest thanks to Monika Courtney! 

Letter to Peter Kelly from !"Stop Animal Cruelty in Canada with effective legislation"

Dear Mayor Kelly,

My name is Paula James and I have over 25,000 people on my facebook group and cause alone that have been fighting for effective animal cruelty legislation in Canada, along with the SPCA's.
We've been trying to get our politicians to do something about serious acts of animal cruelty and neglect and help by doing things that make sense for animals.

This issue surrounding Brindi has become quite a topic around facebook and many other sites and I'm sure you've probably received many emails and nasty phone calls.
To me, this does not make sense for Brindi, being locked up for so long, or her owner, having to go to such extremes to save her when she's harmed no one, inc a dog? Other than a few small scuffles with another dog at her fenceline and no serious harm was done?
I agree if she is threatening she should be more protected w fencing, secure environment, etc, but it's my understanding a fence was being, or had been built, so this wouldn't occur again?

From the information I've gathered, Brindi has suffered through some very traumatic times.
However, she doesn't appear to have done anything serious enough to warrant this action and in the end will only hurt her more the longer this continues and she is locked up without her owner she probably lives for, esp. if she's been through rough times previously like she has!
I think most animals have a great chance of rehabilitation if the owner invests enough time, energy and love into it. I believe Brindi's owner was doing a good thing for her and was trying to remedy the situation and do just that and they were on a good track.

I ask you to please HELP FREE BRINDI and show people that you are a compassionate and understanding being, and much like Brindi, also possess feelings and intelligence.

Unless this is somehow proven to be completely untrue info posted on so many sites and places around Canada, I really don't feel her behaviour warrants this terrible punishment for not only her, an innocent animal in all this that only wants love and understanding, but her owner as well.
Francesca has proven to many people across Canada that she does care and love Brindi deeply and is willing to do anything to save her, along with many people across Canada, including myself.

If I don't have the right information, and she has seriously injured a dog or person and you feel she really deserves this then please let me know!? If I am wrong I'll do my best to help clarify the situation on all these websites.

Protests are being held all across Canada, many people are watching and waiting to see what happens!
I really hope we have a good ending to this story and you do the right thing and bring Brindi home on time for Christmas, let her and Francesca have another chance! I'm sure they won't let you down!

Thank you for your time and attention on this matter,

Sincerely,

Paula James
Stop Animal Cruelty in Canada with effective legislation

On the air waves

My chat with radio host Tom Young yesterday went pretty well, I think. It was a bit of a strange experience though. For one thing, I did it over the phone from home, and I didn't set eyes on a real human being all day. A big disjuncture between the media connections and the physical world! Such a fast half hour, too. I just got started, looked at the time, and saw it was already half over. The nine or ten calls in the second half hour were mixed. They started out generally positive, a few became critical or skeptical, and the last two ended up strongly positive. All in all, very glad of the chance to speak, and hopeful that they do continue to follow the story at News 95.7, as they indicated they would. 

Can I just say, all things aside, it still takes me aback to hear how freely some folks would like dispense with a dog and/or its owner, never troubled by their limited knowledge of a situation. Perhaps I didn't get across all I did and do to "take responsibility" for things. What do you call paying a vet bill for another dog, putting up a fence, taking time for training, volunteering to pay fines, etc. -- my dog, who is vaccinated, microchipped, licensed, has health care coverage, and passed a rigorous obedience class? 

Then there are the people getting very righteous about a dog getting loose, as if there is something immoral about it. Okay, it's not what anybody wants, I am very upset at messing up. But it's not the number one cause of teenage death... Dogs that are tied up wriggle out of collars all the time, it's an everyday occurrence, usually harmless. Lord knows I've had plenty of people knock on my door looking for their runaway canine. 

And that is exactly why I did good training with Brindi, and lining up more training all the time. Every dog owner knows there are days when you just can't control anything, let alone the dog, as precisely as you'd wish. Stuff happens, we do what we can, and ultimately, animals are, well, unpredictable. Ask Jay Leno. Don't we teach children to be careful around animals because we recognize this fact? Where does this expectation come from, that it's possible to be in control of an animal 100% of the time? How can such a notion reasonably become the basis of a law or a euthanization order all by itself? Why should death be promoted as a catch-all solution?? It's not as though everything else in society is so perfect, that people such do a flawless job of controlling objects or themselves. A lot of people do a pretty lousy job with cars, for instance, but the city doesn't seize the cars, even though a whole lot of other people die. Not remotely near the number of people who die from dog-bite injuries every year (in Canada, 2007: two, vs. 30-something from lightning strikes). 

Maybe these waves of anti-dog laws - from breed legislation to subjective by-laws - are remnants of primitive human fears, just like a dog's undesirable behaviour may be rooted in its own primitive fears. They evolved with us, though. Why not put it into perspective then, and see to it that the law is applied consistently and fairly before calling for radical measures like death or removal of private property. This is an issue I would expect a humane society would be very concerned with.

 

But perhaps because I talk about the unfairness of the law and its uneven application, some people assume I don't care about public safety. I certainly do care. That's why I built the enclosures and that's why I'll be putting in a permanent boundary fence. I care a lot about public safety in my community, including the threatening dog on the beach who seems to be loose all the time, charges up to you barking its head off like it owns the place, and

 even bit a friend of mine's dog last summer (she never called animal control). I am not happy about that dog, or about another dog that chases the kids next door when they walk down the street. Again, no calls on that. When we had our meeting last week, a man who lives down the road came along who said when he has issues with a neighbor's dog, he goes to the owner and deals with it - "I go to the source, there's no need to involve the cops," he said. I sort of felt that way too - especially when the other party is responsive and caring.

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When people so freely call for the death of any being - especially an animal they will never see in their lifetimes - it really gives me pause. Somehow they seem to think in one dimension, leaving aside their knowledge (and experience) of the deep bond between humans and dogs. Such as mine!! Brindi and I have/had a very strong bond. She always connected with me, let me know she was ready to learn, and by July our routines were set well, everybody here was flexible and peaceful - meaning the cats, Brindi, and me. They were my comfort through a lot of pretty tough days with the excavation work. 

Look at my face in the photo with her - a rare happy moment! It's not looking like that anymore, I can assure you. Nearly half a year of my life and hers - a big chunk of her life - has been stolen. Half a year in a cage is not good for any animal, and a waste when it has a home to go to. And I'm out of shape now from no more daily walks with her. I can't bear to walk solo along the same routes we used, and we used all the routes in the area. 

Once I forgot to close the car windows and it filled with mosquitos, huge black bombers swarming in the car. I drove off without realizing and had to pull over and started smashing the inside of the car, all over. I was moving erratically and glanced back to see Brindi, calm and quiet. She was not anxious, and just moved aside cooperatively when I was aiming at one near her. She tolerated it for a long while (there was an unspeakable number). I thought it was pretty remarkable; I know other dogs who would have become quite excited and upset by that sort of thing. It's just being in tune with each other, and I think that's a great start for advancement.

The more some stranger says I can't have Brindi back, the more I am sure I can and will. A minute later, I get nuts just thinking about it. I just don't see how one can justify implementing totalitarian regulations for a species that does so much to sustain and enrich human life - urban life too, all poop problems aside. Everybody loves dogs, right? Apparently not everybody, not as much as they seem to.

So many people don't have the time to go to classes, and it's real work. It's totally worth it though. It paid off around my house so much, and I am so frustrated each time she slipped out; each time was a sudden fluke, believe it or not. Most of the time, she wouldn't bolt anywhere; she was my shadow. SO much that I got used to it. Except for a few moments spread out over a ten month period.  

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I don't want to have any problems with my dog, I want her to fit in with me and anywhere, rather than having her eat off my plate when my back is turned, or having to shutting her in a bedroom when guests come over, and so on. I want a well-behaved dog. That is why I spent so much time socializing her and being as consistent as I could in training her. I am ready to put in the time it takes to drill the recall commands so that she can be 100% socialized. She's about 90% - or WAS!!! She formed a strong bond with me and anywhere else would be another stress on her. I am her rightful owner - and legally, I have not been charged with anything that would disqualify me as owner, so the idea seems so erroneous. 

The issue for the public should be, in terms of safety, to ascertain whether she is verifiably dangerous before carrying out a death order that would destroy my "property". The flip side of that is the law. Once we finally get a chance to present our case to a judge, it will be very clear just how much it differs in enforcement from so many other cases with more serious infractions and injuries, in which a fines, or even less, was meted out. 

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There are other issues, but the fact is, on the spectrum of danger/threat/damage, Brindi is at one end, and they are on the other, yet she receives the ultimate punishment, and others are untouched. I am in no way dismissing the need to prevent any incidents. BUT, and I wonder if the callers actually heard it when I said it, there has to be some consistency across the board. Animal Services' Andrea Macdonald speaks about each case being addressed on its merits. Really? When you have each officer practicing their own version of law enforcement, total discretion without review by a higher-up (the law awards the officer, not his bosses, the power to issue fines, declare dangerous, and order euthanization, or should I say euphemization), what mechanism exists to insure consistency, let alone fairness, throughout? Instead it is a very subjective system of enforcement, without accountability.

I would think it would be very alarming to hear that dogs that bite people and/or dogs or even kill other animals are typically handled with fines, while one dog that did neither is condemned to death. Anyone talking about community safety or owner responsibility should put that in their pipe and smoke it, then come and tell me where I stand. I took the trouble to do obedience class and take Brindi all over creation precisely because I wanted to socialize her well and be able to count on her good behavior. It worked very well for the most part, and within less than a year I would brag she was doing just as well or better than most dogs we ran into or knew - but just my luck, the part that didn't work so well became a police matter before I could correct it fully!

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Yesterday, as I was preparing for the Tom Young interview (that's him above), I received copies of very vehement letters from folks in Colorado to Mayor Kelly and others here. Out in Alberta, Heather Anderson tells me she's called his office at least 17 times, and two of her friends have called a handful of times. They have yet to get through to him or get a call back. Others have 

had mixed receptions when they call Animal Services. I don't know how many are calling and writing every week, but it's got to be at least a small trickle if not a steady stream at times. 

______________________________________________________________

The good news for today is that it appears the trainer can do her assessment at the SPCA tomorrow. The results will take a bit more time, and I don't want to pressure her at all. Otherwise, things are not moving fast in the legal department, as is sadly so typical. I am hoping for the Herald to publish an article soon. I didn't get a chance on air to talk about some key th

ings, unfortunately, including fundraising, the link to Montreal  - the benefit last night, the jewelry - or to express my gratitude to all the people out their who have been so committed to helping me. It is not every day that a person sees something on the TV news for a few seconds and decides to ring up the person in the story whose name was flashed for a few seconds; it is not every day that several people in New Zealand decides to start calling elected officials in Nova Scotia. And around here, the donations and the donated auction items have been so great. Which reminds me - I do hope the auction moves a little faster - it's not too late to bid and win on things, and have them sent to you before Xmas!! We just got a few more lower-priced things, like a man's watch, an alarm clock, and a book on "Birds of Prey of the World". 

_______________________________________________________

Yesterday, I was working in the office (for once). I noticed that Rudy, who has been ever-present at my side while I work in the bedroom, was under the drawing table curled 

up on a makeshift bed I had put there for Brindi - it's her spot. Normally he would never dream of using her bedding (she once hilariously tried to squeeze into a cat bed, however - missed the photo op). Normally Rudy (aka Prinz Rüdiger Weichenpels ab und zu Mausenjäger der I.) implemented a strict policy of detente towards the dog. But there he was, with well-gnarled bones ringing the bed.

 Who knows, he might even be 

missing her. 

Which reminds me, there's a cat up the road I need to feed...

Radio Time Wednesday Dec. 10

Thanks to various emails from others, and an interested producer, it looks like I will be on talk radio News 95.7 tomorrow afternoon, the Tom Young Show. I will have a chance to put the facts out there. I should be on air as a guest after 1:35 PM (Atlantic Time) After I go off air, they will take calls for a while. Maybe if you have time you can try to call in, or somebody you know.

Afternoon News with Tom Young
TomP.Young@atlanticradio.rogers.com
Toll Free: 1-866-411-0889

You can listen online here.

Wish me luck!

Because all I want for Christmas is my life back, and my life is with Brindi, I really hope this helps.

from Kijiji

This is a message similar to others I have received - it arrived last week:

Hello, this is so unreal that they won't give you the chance to do your part!! Go to your local MLA"S office and see if they can help you out, I had to do the same thing a few years ago, my dog got loose and was running and playing just as your dog did, then animal services came and took her for no reason... I call my MLA's office and within 3 days my dog was returned and, now we have a fence and she can run in the yard all she wants to.. Also try posting a add on facebook to help save your dog... have faith in your MLA and hopfuly things will work for you. Please let me know what happens in this case.. my e-mail address is ___@hotmail.com and my first name is L.. Thanks for taking the time out to read my message to you.

Well, L, as I wrote you back, did that. Would that it worked out the way it did for you.
I first had to call a lawyer and maybe by the time I called the MLA it was too late, who knows? I was told that my MLA was very powerful though.

Here is one I just discovered in my yahoo email inbox - I don't check it very often, and this is dated Nov. 9:

Hi Francesca,

Please don't give up. You have to be strong and fight for your dog. Have you contacted the local newspaper ? I supported a huge campaign here to help free a German Shepherd that was in a similar situation like your dog. I put my life on hold for this for 6 months. We won the dog back. We rallied in front of the courthouse and in town for weeks and months... holding huge signs. You need to get people's attention - I don't know what you have done so far.. the website looks great and is informative - please Francesca don't give up - let me know if I can help compose something, I have written many articles on the other dog's behalf and published them online. Maybe you can use some of those articles and just change them around to Brindi's situation. Let me know.

Hang in there,

Monika Courtney, Evergreen, CO.


Yes Monika, I have certainly contacted the local papers and local everything. If you page back in the blog you will see links as well.
I would like to be able to list the blog posts by title and date but I can only find a way to do it with the date, not the title too. If anybody knows how to have both, please tell me!


And this is a story about a woman in Saskatchewan who lost several dogs to the dogcatchers. She sued for pain and suffering. By US standards the amount she won is laughable; not even close to legal costs. But at least she won.
I don't want to lose my dog in the first place. I've already spent far more than she got for her pain and suffering.

Waiting more

Well there is no news, and in this case, it's not good news.

Seems there is another holdup on Silvia Jay's assessment. She is still waiting for the go-ahead. Something to do with the court order still. I guess it had to get colder before she could go. Friday was fine; today we have snow and a subterranean temperature.

As soon as I hear anything I will post it.

Meanwhile... Wednesday night is the comedy benefit at Bourbon Street West in Montreal, and Saturday there may even be some news from Calgary, Alberta.

Further to that

to explain... because our court date was Dec. 16 and we hadn't received anything much in response, I had hoped Brindi would be home by Christmas. Our by-law case is good, but the city managed to do things to delay the case being heard - including submitting erroneous information and stalling on turning over requested info. They are very likely tripling my legal expenses because my lawyer had to spend most of last week dealing with the last-minute stuff. And now I have to wait until January 5 at the earliest, barring any further unspeakables that the city tosses at us to delay things more or drag them in other directions.

I wonder how many people are going to be working at the shelter over the holidays, how much attention Brindi and the other animals there will get during all the celebrations. How is that place heated, anyway?

I just cannot get it out of my mind that the very same people I see there, surrounding me all of a sudden in the lobby, who are taking care of Brindi and talking about her to everybody and saying how well they are taking care of her, etc. etc., are the very same people who will just as readily put her to sleep if I wind up losing the case and running out of money. The same people who tell me that they are upset by my coming by and talking about the case. No wonder they're upset - they should be. But I'm more upset than a thousand of them put together.

And meanwhile, it sure seems to me the city of Halifax, maybe the province too, doesn't really give a damn about immigrants (or single women). At least they are certainly sending a clear message to that effect. (Too bad because pets keep medical costs down.) And people on the global petitions are taking it seriously; more than a few have said they are canceling vacations here. At the same time, emigrants - people who've left the Maritimes - are among the strongest supporters I have in the rest of Canada. 

So no Brindi until - when, 2009? What's there to celebrate this holiday season - the end of a terrible year. It would have been only our second Christmas together. I guess I don't have any need to go Christmas shopping now. My family is scattered from east coast to west coast; this year I believe we all are going to donate money to various causes, hopefully also mine, instead of buy things nobody really needs and pay tons for shipping. So the cats don't need anything, and they don't use leashes or toys or clothing, like dogs do. I bought Brindi a lined raincoat last winter but she could use a better raincoat to cover her head - it helps keep the house cleaner too. 

 

Brindi home by Christmas? . . . probably not.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: 

(Halifax, December 5) Despite the postponement of a December 16 judicial review intended to bring about the dog’s release, Brindi’s supporters across Canada continue to hope that the dog, already impounded for over four months, will go home in time for Christmas.

Due to recent actions of HRM legal counsel, the judicial review of By-Law A-300 on Animal Control by the Supreme Court was delayed and is now scheduled for January 5. Solicitor Blair Mitchell, acting on behalf of Brindi’s owner, Francesca Rogier, applied for the judicial review in early November.

In a related matter, this week a judge granted Mitchell’s request for permission to have dog expert Silvia Jay assess Brindi’s behaviour. However, the court-ordered assessment, originally scheduled for today at the SPCA pound, was postponed pending clarification of the order’s wording. HRM continues to deny Rogier’s requests to see Brindi, who she has not seen since July 24, nor will Rogier be allowed to be present during the assessment.

Meanwhile, plans are in place for a benefit concert this weekend at Bearly’s Pub in Halifax to help raise funds to help Rogier pay for Brindi’s defense. Already in the thousands, the total increases with each new delay. A further benefit is scheduled for December 10 at a comedy club in Montreal.

END

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I just sent this out to the local media. I don't expect it to be printed anywhere since it's the weekend and they don't seem to do much on weekends. I posted it because it is the easiest way for me to respond to the many inquiries I've received today. I was exhausted last night and spent most of today resting. It really doesn't look like I'll see Brindi before New Year's. It's a low blow to say the least, after months of working only on this. 

Silvia Jay is ready to go to the SPCA Monday. I sincerely hope we get the go-ahead in time. 

Though the turnout was not huge, we had a productive meeting last night at Dalhousie, very productive in fact! There is a core group of supporters working actively on a number of things, and in some ways this is preferable to a lot of turnout with little action. 

And even though the court proceedings for that day are now only about preliminaries, there's a possibility of setting up a chain of demonstrations across the country before the 16th, from Halifax to Moncton, Montreal, Calgary, and places in BC. Folks everywhere are invited to join in, send me ideas! It may be as simple as gathering your friends together with Brindi's photo and recording a group chant, who knows? 

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Update

Silvia Jay is slated to be at the SPCA at 9 am Friday morning. They are under a court order to let her see Brindi and are to be advised to allow her the space to work with her - unmonitored. 

Without going into too much detail - it seems to me the city is doing its best to stall anything else we do, even things they already agreed to, like providing information about Animal Services officials. Stall. More money, less time, and they just keep on keeping on. I don't understand it. Is the goal to keep people safe from dangerous dogs, or to be right no matter what? Is it no difference to the lawyers whether it's a case about property lines or a dog that means so much to me?

Meanwhile, our meeting at Dalhousie is tomorrow night, Student Union room 316, 7:30 pm. Finally I will absolutely have to be driving into town.

Odd as it may seem in this context, it so happens I have two tickets to DJ Mark Farina at the Pacifico club for tomorrow night - starts right after the meeting. They can go to the highest bidder, whoever shows up. The tickets are worth $20 each in advance, $30 at the door. 

If nobody wants them, maybe I'll ask Bob Riley to step out... ; )

And since each time the city stalls or blocks something, it adds up in my bills, if I may, here's another plug for the epier.com auction - to put in a plug: time is ticking away on it too, and the quilt is still up for sale; there is still time to get it made and sent out before Christmas! Same for the pretty porcelain figurine, the Hallmark Legacy Keeper, and of course the candy-striped dog sofa. Please pass it around!  And thanks once again to all those who have bidded and won other items, as well as their generous donors. More is on the way!

Wake up, it's show time! Two weeks to go!!

Okay, I haven't blogged anything for days because the days have been so rocky, and when stuff happens I need time to absorb and recover and then emails take over...

SO I originally posted this under "seven days to go" - and that shows you how messed up I am trying to keep track of my own life. I've been answering emails back and forth since Monday at a record-breaking case with all sorts of folks including my "solicitor" - at every turn it seems the city's "solicitors" are sending objections to things they already agreed to, generating extra work, time, money for both of us. 

I can report quickly, the Dec. 2 hearing was nearly blown off course because at the last second, the city tried to block it by calling for it to be postponed and merged into the Dec. 16 hearing which is of a different nature altogether. Somehow they succeeded, but not totally. 

I am glad to be able to report that we are getting a court order today for the trainer Silvia Jay to visit Brindi at the SPCA and do an assessment - something I requested through David Green way back in, what was it, August?? The city turned it down then. Now it's not a request; it's a court order. 

Silvia Jay, who I hope will be available, has only tomorrow and Friday to get to the SPCA. And I really hope the shelter will cooperate, the weather will cooperate, and she can do whatever she needs to do in time. 

I am not sure what other details are wise to share, actually, but my lawyer has been working intensely on this for a long time now and we are gearing up for the 16th. I think it is safe to say we have a good case, very good, especially since there is not much on the other side. The attempt late last Friday to block a Tuesday morning hearing was really unexpected, since the lawyers already conferenced with a judge and the city had plenty of time to object before then. They did not leave much time for my lawyer to block their block... It is wonderful that he managed to succeed in getting a conference in chambers; truly a great thing. 

BUT, and it's a BIG BUT (even though I dropped another five pounds): the city, as I was told at the outset by so many lawyers here, is not at all worried about the cost to them of long lawsuits or any legal proceedings, or how long an animal stays locked up. The city's lawyers - somehow there are two of them on the case now - are very likely to appeal if we win next week. They have deep pockets and all the time in the world. They have indicated they do not plan to release Brindi immediately if we win on the 16th. 

So it's another Catch-22, really; if we lose, she'll have to stay there longer while we appeal. If we win, they are going to do all they can to hang on to her so they can appeal. 

In case it wasn't already crystal clear, this is no fight for the faint-hearted. Right now I do feel faint, actually. No sleep and not sure what to do from one hour to the next, as important news comes in every minute. I've been on the phone a lot with D.A.I.S.Y?'s formidable director, Heather Anderson in Calgary, who is rallying more troops, including a man from the Canadian Federation of Humane Societies and others from Voice for Animals, Prairie Dog Society, and NOKA (a no-kill group). Heather has been speaking to reporters , animal services, the mayor's secretary, and anybody else who will listen; she also rallied two women activists way out in BC, one of whom is mailing out an amazing first-person story by Brindi, about Brindi. 

There is talk of a big protest out in Calgary also - it could be quite interesting. The Montreal contingent of angels carry on their plans for fundraising and letter-writing; publicity is so important for the comedy night on Dec. 10. 

I have been getting good luck emails from people in Brazil and Holland; I've been messaging the whole thousand-odd members on the Facebook group, all over the place, and my fingers are aching, while my cats politely visit my bed-office purring their hunger, hoping I'll look up long enough to notice and get my butt downstairs to feed them. 

Tomorrow night is already the day of the meeting at Dalhousie, in the Student Union tomorrow night! And I have to see a dentist in the afternoon, a remnant of normal life cropping up; also I have to work on the auction.

I have been trying to get into Halifax for several key errands for a week and a half now. Every day something happens or I am not awake enough to do it. It's maddening. 

The sun is shining and I just want to sleep. But we are tough, this scattered group, and we are going to make some big noise, one way or the other. You can't kill a dog for a list of grievances that include not having a dog tag, or getting loose twice, for goodness' sake! Animal Services apparently added those to the minor incidents she had in order to make a claim that I had "many chances" - and hope that people won't ask what exactly they mean by that - which they then parlay into a death sentence. If I had to compare it to something, it would be like having a few parking tickets, running a stop sign, and a fender-bender or two add up to losing your license AND your car. But the comparison doesn't work because in those instances, you'd get the chance to go to court if you wanted to - without a lawyer. Not to mention your car is not a living breathing thing.

My stomach is gurgling, and I am drifting. 

Those bones

Man, is it me, or is it just impossible to escape dogs? Staying home won't protect me from the stab of pain I can get from the sight of a happy canine. Every time I turn on the TV, pet food commercials and Animal Channel vet shows, and somehow an incessant stream of dogs popping up in the most unlikely programs one way or another. Even comedy shows. And tonight CTV's story about protecting your pets during the holidays, featuring a beautiful blond lab in its lead images.
I can't escape.
And yet I have to, as two women tried to tell me earlier tonight. They came to pray with me. We discussed forms of faith for a bit, but it was mainly to pray that they were here. To me, the labels you use aren't as important as the intention behind them, the sincerity of the faith and the love. And that was clearly there - and just all right with me.
Will it help to banish all the dogs so that I can concentrate? There are chewed bones and a makeshift dog bed underneath my drawing table, where I'd have Brindi stay while I worked. There's a few more bones lying around in my bedroom, and of course the big padded bed in the center of the kitchen. Sigh.

New and sad discovery- and a plea to readers

It looks like the officer behind Brindi's muzzle order and her seizure and euthanization order - the man who swore an oath that she is dangerous and then took her out of my house and about 100 feet into public space without using a muzzle, Tim Hamm - is the same person responsible for last year's case of a dog with one incident of attacking a greyhound, and never bit a human, and was put down. 

Why am I not surprised? I am only surprised to realize that my first lawyer was fully aware of this connection and did not mention it to me. I wish I had known. I still don't know who the owner of that dog was and I would so much like to find out what happened - were they ever charged with anything? I only want to get the court records. It's not unimportant; there may be a very deadly pattern here that should be dealt with.

Apparently Hamm is speaking to others about my case. He is now claiming he never charged me with an offense because he thought I was too poor to pay the fine. That's what he says orally. (In his affidavit, he says other things. But the police file contains email correspondence between him and one of the owners that contradicts those things. It's provable but it just takes time - and this lost time is the crime in this case!) Mr. Hamm also seems to be claiming that he believed I would simply sign over Brindi, rather than fight to get her back. AS says most owners just do this. I don't know what their dogs did, but I would never just turn over a dog like Brindi and anybody who ever met me with her could tell that in a second. He sat and gabbed with me all about her for over an hour; he knew very well I wouldn't sign her over just like that - ever. You'd have to be deaf, blind, and thick to not see how much I love Brindi and how proud I am of her. In late July she was doing so beautifully. We had our routines worked out perfectly.  

  

I suppose the information I received is technically hearsay. But this is not an affidavit or a court of law, it's a blog. But there is also a report online about his past work.
Both of his claims are rather implausible in my view, based on my prior personal encounters with him, in which I was very clear about how important she is to me and how much I would do to insure she is okay and behind a fence - and gets extra training. Just not credible at all. 

The man had only two years of experience on the job, admitted he knows little about dogs, and had a bad back. One would think that he ought to be very concerned about taking a presumedly dangerous dog out of a house without putting on the muzzle he himself ordered (and used as grounds to seize her after a non-injury event). He signed an oath that she was dangerous; he ordered the muzzle - if he doesn't use it, and we know he is no dog whisperer, doesn't it cast some doubt on his own sworn statements?

What if it were true, what if Brindi were dnagerous? What if somebody had been walking a dog along the road just then? With his lack of experience and knowledge, he coulnd not have controlled her. He had no gloves or a pole or a muzzle. He was both breaking the order and risking public safety. She went quietly and obediently and sat curled up in the truck's refrigerator-like cage compartment, never making a sound. Was friendly as you could ever want. He knows very well that she is not a dangerous dog. And that is my claim.

Right now, Mr. Hamm may be the mainstay of the city's defense of my case against it and the law. So far none of the other dog owners have agreed to enter a statement (affidavit) against us. And in fact our case doesn't require them, since we are challenging the law. The city needs to defend itself regarding the soundness of the law. Today I received a second affidavit sworn by him that the city wants to use on Dec. 16. It does not relate to the principal issues of our case - and remember, we are bringing the case, I am not defending myself because nobody is charging me with anything. I wish they would, it would save a lot of money and time.) So that affidavit is something that actually does not belong in the courtroom. We have filed objections and are waiting the results but it is going to take more time.

I haven't been able to bring myself to read it just yet. I already had another totally sleepless night after receiving this information around 10 pm last night. I wish I had known it before I wrote the press release. How many more dogs has he caused to be put down?

I would like to say again that I am so terribly sorry about last year's case and I believe it was very wrong. I so wish it had been publicized because I really believe it would have garnered a lot of public support. It is a tragedy that it happened and a tragedy that nobody evidently knew about it. Would A300 be written the way it is now? I wonder. At the very least, I would like to reach out to that family and express my sympathy.

The danger is human and real and it is everybody's worry until things change for the better. And they are not going to change for the better until more people get upset enough to do something about it.

Thankful

Well, the US Thanksgiving holiday has come and gone.

It is the real Thanksgiving to me, since I grew up with it. I was so into it that when I lived in Germany I went to great lengths to throw a huge dinner for ten people every year - before I became a vegetarian, of course. I ordered the turkey fresh weeks before because it was never in the stores that long before Christmas, and I scoured the markets for yams and sweet potatoes, and made pies without pie pans (Germans don't make pies like that), and so on.  A huge production, but always worth it to see the surprise and delight on faces that never tasted the unique combination of flavors before. A few Italian friends I knew - the most skeptical guests, naturally - famously had five or six helpings apiece, of absolutely everything, and still managed to have a few pieces of pie with whipped cream. I never saw a 25 pound turkey demolished so fast.

***********

So this year I skipped it. It would have been so great to be able to really celebrate and be thankful for getting Brindi back. Or for my house being finished. Instead I spent part of the day hauling water, literally. I never dreamt she would be gone this long or my house would not be finished - instead of both hanging by threads. No way to cook and serve a turkey dinner with my pots and dishes and floors unwashed.

Not that I am not thankful. There are many things I can be thankful for. I am thankful my transmission hasn't given up the ghost just yet. I am thankful I am not exactly a petite flower when it comes to womanhood, or I would have gone mad with the condition of this place eons ago. I am thankful I know how to change a fuse, use a tester, and so on. 

But those are material things. What really counts is that I am thankful for my two healthy cats, Amelia and Rudy, who are the best ever. I am thankful for my lawyer, it's only fair to say; he stepped forward when dozens in Halifax and other cities stepped way back, and he's been awesome. And so has his assistant. I am grateful for a few neighbors who have not ceased checking on me and offering H2O and solace now and then, even if I don't see them for weeks on end.

I am very thankful for the loving and kind people I've met during this hellish ordeal who care deeply and unreservedly about all animals, and don't exclude people from their caring. I am so thankful to people that genuinely care about me and my dog, even though I have never set eyes on most of them. I am deeply thankful they are willing to sacrifice time and effort and hard-earned money and even possessions to help us out. They really do keep my spirits going. 

It's amazing to talk to people in Alberta and BC and Texas and Montreal - places I've never been, let alone had phone calls from - emails from Colorado and California and Wisconsin. These are of course not superficial chats; they are from the heart and go right to the heart. Not to mention the comments on the petitions, so many telling me not to give up. 

I guess I have to be thankful for at least one or two more material things, then, because without the computer, the phone, and the internet, I would not be able to connect to these people.

Of course, it would have been far more preferable to meet all these wonderful people under less horrible circumstances. And I have to say, I am not without frustration and a bit of shame when the calls are over. This is a truly emasculating experience. I've not been successful at a whole lot lately, didn't really need any more lessons in humility, or so I thought, right? But I would love nothing more than to be able to return the concern with some really great news and it hurts so much that I just can't; not because of pride but because I hate not being able to leave people with more positive reports - all I seem to have is more bad stuff to relate, even when I'm holding back the real crap...

Often I wake up totally bewildered and then remember the horror just as descends. In the past I would usually reach for the laptop to check my mail and facebook for a bit of reassurance before losing myself to agony and more bewilderment, because frankly, I have no idea what I am supposed to do every day, and little satisfaction whatever I manage to get done. There's always so much more to be done and it doesn't seem to add up to a whole lot.

Sometimes I don't make it as far as reaching for the laptop - okay, I admit it, a lot of times - and I just roll over, checking the cat's whereabouts as I move, and climb right back into dreamland. I can't fight the urge anymore and I don't even try. Often the phone is the only thing that gets me fully awake - although it's no guarantee I won't go right back to sleep afterwards. Because 999 times out of 1000, that's where I'd rather be. I can often influence my dreams; certainly more than I can influence reality for the past four months. This doesn't really explain why I don't let myself fall asleep at night. It's just harder to do somehow.

**************

I was thankful Thursday night for something special: I was able to help cheer up my friend Tracy just a little bit. Her dog Kasba - I'm sure I spelled it wrong -  is a beautiful white boxer who is sadly losing the use of his legs to a deteriorating nerve disease. She's been so stressed out, and who can blame her. He's a sweet guy, and his sister Chevelle is just as sweet, but the sight of him dragging his legs around is so heartbreaking. 

It's been really hard on Tracy, understandably. She found two medical treatments and can't get her vet to prescribe the one that could really deal with the disease; the other slows it down, but she couldn't afford the customs fee and sent it back! And weeks and weeks ago Tracy acquired not one but two different doggie wheelchairs, of different designs, but hasn't been sure which one to keep. Tonight- after I dropped by to fill the water jugs and invited myself to a shower -we took him for a spin in one of them (pardon the pun), mainly to satisfy my curiosity to see if he could manage. 

We took both dogs out for a little turn around the church's well-lit parking lot, and everybody felt so much better. Kasba seemed truly surprised - this was his first walk in the contraption, I think - he kept standing still, gazing around in awe. He'd move about thirty feet with no trouble, then just stop and do it again. After we got home I swear he was smiling. I mean, I could see the difference. And Tracy was smiling right along with him. Excellent.

We tried him in the other wheelchair - they actually look like chariots - and weighted the pros and cons of each. Then we played around with adapting them a bit, to see if we could improve on the weight and straps. The main thing was that it all worked! It was so great to see how he can really navigate around the house, and how thrilled he was. As I tried to check out the fit with Tracy, he kept blocking my view to lick my face, eyes alert and happy. When I sat on the floor he came and positioned himself over my lap as if figuratively sitting in it, though in reality he was suspended over it - nearly ran over my knees, but it was totally okay. It was more than just hope, it was a very positive experience.

I will continue to look for more things to be thankful for. It's a very worthy exercise.  

***********

The questions that come up again and again. Yes, Brindi is still in the pound. No, I still have not set eyes on her since July 24. 

The next key date is Dec. 2: we ask a judge to order the city to give access to her so that a behavioural assessment can be done by Silvia Jay. This is one of the things I was telling the SPCA last week, to give them a head's up. I figured they'd done this before, they must have a drill or something. Imagine - I was told, "no, never." Hmmm. Not that I consider the assessment all that valid. The real issue is, is this law enforceable? Is it being fairly enforced?

The next date: Dec. 4, a meeting for all of Brindi's angels at Dalhousie University next Thursday night in the Student Union. With Joe Cool. 

Then December 16 will be here before I know it, and the nerves will be increasing proportionally as it gets closer. I saw the courtroom last week; I counted the spaces, fortunately not too many. I know where to park. I'm nervous even writing this, so I'd better stop, or I won't sleep at all, and it's well after 3 am already. 

Let's quash that thing, quash it real good. Get that dog back home, for good and forever.

JULY 24 - NOVEMBER 24: FOUR MONTHS AND COUNTING

Torture is not a good word to bandy about. People are being tortured every day and their pain is unimaginable.

Emotional torture is in a different category, and that is what I feel I am suffering without Brindi here, and knowing where she is, and the agony of this unending nightmare and the necessity of fighting against the insensate system that brought this about - regardless of my attempts to steady myself it is emotional torture. My heart has already been broken so many times I thought there was no way it could ever happen again, but the universe found a whole new way to do it - not with a man, but a dog. Who would ever believe it possible.

It is a badiversary worth sleeping through, instead of not sleeping at all the night before, which I have not. Last week I had two completely sleepless nights, and in between those nights, a few with only about four hours, and a very slow recovery. It starts all over again. 

I am not satisfied with where I am in this fight and it is a frustrating thing to visit the SPCA to drop off bones and share information, only to be told I'm upsetting the staff, and that the supervisor doesn't know if I am a good dog owner or a bad dog owner. Bad attitude, SPCA. Bad timing. If your staff is upset, ask them why. Have a discussion, for a change. It doesn't look like that happens much, because nothing has changed over the last four months: I still encounter staff and volunteers who believe things that are not true - about the pound having "nothing to do" with the shelter. Some of them still don't know who they're working for - or don't want to know, since one of them claimed the shelter had nothing to do with the provincial board of the SPCA; none of them seem to know or want to know who is financing the shelter - hey, the annual reports are online, and it looks like the six-figure pound contract pays for a goodly chunk, if not half, of the annual budget - money from, guess who, HRM taxpayers. To run the pound FOR THE CITY: not separately; BY THE SAME ORGANIZATION. 

Ah, but the truth is upsetting. It's not my fault, nor is it my problem, if the staff is upset. In my opinion they're not upset enough. Because they're not upset enough to check all the facts, or to speak up if they don't like them. If they are volunteers, they still have a right to express their opinions. Muzzling yourself is not the way to improve things. Telling me that the staff get attached to the "long term residents" and get upset... leaving the rest of the sentence unfinished. Let me finish it: they get attached, and then they get upset WHEN THE RESIDENT - the DOG - is KILLED. Euthanize is the powder-puff term that doesn't make anybody feel better about it. It's not euthanization for Brindi, it's out and out killing that one day, ladies, who knows, you may have to carry out, especially if I end up running out of money and health. Because nobody else can adopt her under the circumstances. In case you don't know, I have not been charged with any offense; therefore, animal services does not claim that I am guilty of anything in particular. So one could conclude that as an owner I am no different from anybody else. The law actually says I am guilty of an offense, but the department chose not to charge me with it, and no such offense was even mentioned in the papers used to seize Brindi - I suppose any such mention would require that I be charged. It's very perplexing. 

I do know that the lack of charges is why it is taking so long for me to get to a judge: I had to BUY my day in court, and it costs a pretty penny indeed. Meanwhile other dog owners (even when their dogs bite people) before and since get their day in court free of charge, and much sooner. Until recently, the mayor firmly believed, like most of the populace, that it was impossible for Animal Services to seize a dog without charging the owner with some sort of violation. He also did not realize the sizable number of cases of by-law prosecutions - well over a dozen - since last year involving owners of dogs with two to three incidents of biting humans and/or other dogs, supplemented by "running at large" charges, in which the owners were charged, went to provincial court a month or two later, and were either fined a few hundred bucks, or had the charges dropped. With the one exception of a human-biting dog that was put down, they all fared eons better than Brindi and me. He knows the truth now, but so far it hasn't prompted him to do anything about it. He ought to seriously question the advice of HRM legal counsel that he remain apart from the matter, because he and Council created the situation facilitating the denial of due process. Following that, he ought to seriously review the motives and practices of animal services in regard to my case, because it's the only way to prevent something like this happening again - or something even worse happening again, like Ducky.

Our last four months, the outrageous sums involved, and the agonizing separation without visits, are a form of punishment (not yet over) that nobody else has had to bear for the kind of minor infractions involved, not even for worse ones!

Brindi is a bad dog, according to HRM, and in the one-dimensional world of the by-law, bad dogs must be destroyed, just like a bad... (actually I can't think of any comparison, because there is none). So she is not up for sale. She is up for dying, that's all. 

As far as I can make out with the law, it makes no difference if I sign her over. Nor would I ever do that. HRM would not let her out of its jurisdiction even for training subject to approval; it would not let her go to a foster home, and it will not agree to release her to me pending the December 16 date. It won't even hear more proposals out of court - how, since it renegged on two meetings? Brindi, my friends at the SPCA should note, is being cruelly caged again after two years in a shelter and barely a year out, in part also because no one at that organization has stepped up to help. And so the battle drags on, and I am powerless to stop it, despite thousands of signatures and notes from folks all over the planet, despite letters to every relevant public official in the province and beyond. 

Brindi is punished very severely by this long wait, a significant period of time in the short life of a dog, all because of a loophole that was used to create a black hole of bureacracy, whether intentionally or unintentionally. In fact it's irrelevant which it is. Much more relevant are the intentions since that time of the parties involved, once the contrast is known between our case and the others on record. A contrast, I should note, that nobody was going to ever mention or notice, unless a crack internet researcher took the time to find the records - and thank goodness she did. 

Brindi has been condemned to death for an alleged propensity to attack "unprovoked". You all know the latter is debatable. To a dog, the natural territorial boundary is the road edge, not the easement - (what's a 16-foot easement to a dog??) - and since a dog remembers quite well when another dog was aggressive to it at some point in the past, there can be a prior provocation, and the response detached in time, but a response nonetheless. These are all provocations in the dog world. And what does it mean, "propensity"? Some kind of propensity to attack is quite obviously inherent to the nature of every dog on earth. No dog does not possess this trait in some degree; if it didn't, it would be a stuffed animal, not a live canine. 

So I haven't sobbed hard, the really hard and long sobbing, in a few days now and I know I am overdue. I am not feeling well enough to sustain it so I pray the sobbing will pass me by today, against the odds. It's so hard, I can't predict what will trigger it. Every other commercial has a dog in it; every other series or movie plot seems to involve a dog, and a look out my window is easily pierced with the sight of a happy human-canine pair strolling down the street. A call-in show on the radio is invariably about pets; or somebody comes up with yet another bad story about a dog and the law. I cringe and cringe. 

About me being a good dog owner or not - I guess it would be a lot less upsetting to believe I'm not? Good luck on that one, ladies. Willful ignorance is no answer and certainly no excuse. If my dog is unjustly ordered euthanized, it doesn't hack it to say "just carrying out orders"; that is, as I#ve said, tantamount to the infamous Nuremberg defense (which didn't stop the court from convicting the Germans). But to add to "just carrying out orders", the claim "I don't know who I work for," "We are separate from the NS SPCA," -- well, it's a bit like saying not only am I not responsible; heck, I'm not even in the German army. A bit hard to swallow.

And I'm feeling sick enough and angry enough on this four-month anniversary to say: you are participating willingly in this ordeal. So please, keep it to yourselves if you're upset, unless you plan on doing something constructive about it - like speak up (not to me). Otherwise, you have no right to tell me how upset you are about Brindi, or how attached you are. I'm absolutely sure you are, but with all due respect (however much is due), so what? I believe I'll begin to care about your upset staff and volunteers right about the same time the SPCA starts caring about how upset I am, and how attached I am, not to mention how upset Brindi was to be taken away; when it starts caring enough to intervene on our behalf, if only to give me permission to visit her; when it starts caring enough to include ALL dogs, including the ones in the pound, in its mission to protect animal welfare.

Otherwise - talk to the paw.

One last thing: since you work for a group holding the monopoly on anti-cruelty law enforcement in this province (which in turn works for the group holding the monopoly on violence against animals in HRM), if you really cannot tell a good dog owner from a bad one, well then, perhaps you'd better get out of the business, hadn't you?

 

Nice news from near and far

Under six to eight inches of snow, huddling with rudy on the heating pad, it's so wonderful to read there will be a comedy fundraiser for Brindi on Dec. 10 - in Montreal! 

It's happening at a place called Bourbon Street West, at 9 pm, with the help of the facebook group "Comedy with a Cause" and comic Kenny Robinson, at the request of a very kind and determined young woman named Tammy Kramar. Tickets are only $10 and the place seats 100 people. Wish I could be there! 

Those angels in Quebec, what would we do without them?!

In the comedy mode - this is the most comic picture of Brindi I could find. Other than the ones with antlers or masks. In this one, she's listening out for small furry creatures under the snow. Or trying to tune in to a Montreal station. (The youtube clip of her trying to ski on her back isn't bad material, either!)

Other good news: three more bids on the auction items!! Both the quilt and the week at a lakeside cottage are off and running, and a first bid is in on the private obedience class by Meaghan Lumley. Meaghan's second item, a dog grooming session, was already scored by Jenn Richardson for her Jessie, the Chessie. Jenn, please send me a picture of the results, please!

AND two new items donated for the auction! This elegant candy-colored sofa, and a Pedi-Paws trimmer, both brand-new. Thank you, Joan!! As if it isn't enough that you've been the best legal eagle on the case even my lawyer is getting nervous. Hopefully the city's lawyers too. If they only knew what we know!!

 

Here it is modeled by Buttercup, of Me and my Dogs in Halifax fame. It's a bit too small for her, sadly, because she looks marvelous otherwise. But it's perfect for dogs of a more diminutive persuasion --  perhaps 15 lbs. or so.

Meanwhile, Halifax is subdued by this weekend of storms, and everybody's staying off the roads after the sobering experience of a four-hour highway shut-down last week. It caught a lot of people off guard.  

Water is gone again here, and I'm deeply worried about the concrete. On Friday morning they first broadcast the storm warning for that night. I was not sure what to do. Nobody was available to get a truckload of dirt down, and then straw; the ditches next to the footings always fill with water anyway. So I ended up sprinkling calcium chloride around them, mainly to dissolve in the water, so it wouldn't freeze (I hope). I had the sense that it was either a very smart precaution or very stupid fatal blow. No way to know until it's too late.

The clouds look very dark and full with more snow right now. 

Happy Birthday, Dad

Today my father would have been 89. We lost him ten years ago. Today my four sisters, my mom, and I are all remembering how blessed we were to have him and how much we miss him.

Had multi-infarct dementia passed him by, he would be fit as a fiddle today. He was so very good at taking care of his health. Dementia is a cruel trick to play on a man like him.

My father was not known to be overly sentimental about animals, so we never really knew how much he really loved our dog Scooter until she was hit by a car. It happened not long after he and my mother moved to a suburb of Chicago. My private theory is that she got loose and ran off to hunt for our previous home in another state. When we first moved from New Jersey to Michigan, she wouldn't want to go back home on walks; she'd just keep pulling ahead. I figure she was doing it again in Illinois, looking for our dirt road amidst the sidewalks of Hinsdale.

Fortunately, my folks lived around the corner from a vet's office. After she was hit, some kind soul scraped her up and took her there right away. She had some broken bones and a terrible concussion. Many people would have put Scooter down there and then. But not Dad. He took it very hard, perhaps out of guilt, knowing she was probably trying to run to Michigan. He nursed her back to health himself (my mom has a hard time with blood, injuries, etc.). When my mom called to tell me, I instantly got chocked up - I could already tell something bad happened from her tone when I answered and she said "Francesca..."

I went to see Scooter as soon as I could get a ride from Ann Arbor. What a nightmare to see this lump of fir bandaged up, and still wagging her tail. My dad would take her outside to pee on a piece of plywood. He gave us all regular reports on her progress. It seems to me it was weeks and weeks before she could lift her body, months perhaps before she could walk along, and she never really lost her lopsided limp.

Scooter was a great dog. She fully deserved the special dispensation to have her life prolonged. She was smart, fun, crazy at times, and a real dog. Our family life was far too chaotic to focus on her training, but kids and adults muddled through it somehow, and did our best with vets, tags, collars, and the like.

We chose her because she was the most active, sharp one in the litter of a beagle-type mom and unknown dad, advertised on a residential lawn by means of a scrawled sign offering free pupies (sic). As far as we were concerned, it came down to choosing her or the beauty of the bunch, a honey-colored, gorgeous male. But Scooter won paws down because she literally scooted all over the place and exuded sheer glee at everything. We used the same reasoning when we picked out our canary, who my folks named Enrico (after The Caruso of course).

I gave training Scooter a try, though I was only ten. I found a huge book on dogs in the bookcase, and skimmed through it one evening while sitting on the kitchen floor with our new, rubbery-limbed puppy. I worked on "sit" and "come", but didn't succeed much further. In a family of seven, it's kind of hard to be consistent. We spoiled her rotten, there's no denying it. Luckily she was good-natured and trained herself more or less, like so many family dogs do. Still, it was a real struggle to deal with the poop until she got the hang of walks. She did prove tremendously smart - and terrifically talented at getting into things she shouldn't. When that happened, she'd run and hide under our beds, with a pincushion or a hairbrush chomped halfway through, or worse, our miniature turtle. If I could get to her before Dad did (he could be a bit rough), or sometimes, after he gave up, I'd extricate the object from her jaws, being the only one
of five girls willing to do it. My sisters were either too afraid or grossed out, but I was pretty rational-minded about such things. Blood never made me faint, though I don't know why. So whenever Scooter got something in her mouth, I'd race to pull her from under the bed and carefully pry her jaws apart with thumbs pressed on the inner jaw joint, a technique I read about somewhere. Scooter was just small enough for us to pick her up, so I'd hang on to her, and she never snapped at me, though reluctant to give up her catch of the day.

As a puppy, Scooter nearly gnawed through the rungs of all eight kitchen chairs. Forever afterwards, you couldn't rest your bare feet on them without risking a splinter, even though Dad tried to sand them down. Eventually Scooter taught herself a special way of begging for food invisibly from under the kitchen table, by persistently beseeching one and all for tidbits, with a ghostly wail of howled arias, launched as shortish alto murmurs and worked up into lengthy and elaborate soprano phrases. Sometimes she'd eerily match Grace Slick's voice from the Crown of Creation, one of my sister Mary's favorite records. Scooter used the same high-pitched voice to utter squeals of delight whenever a man arrived at our door. The one exception was my friend Pat, who responded just as warmly, declaring her reciprocal and undying love above Scooter's crescendo shrieks and wagging body.

Scooter was indeed a very friendly dog.  But she was no fool, just the same. You never really saw Scooter at the dinner table, but you could certainly hear her. She stayed quiet, though, whenever my dad carved the Thanksgiving turkey and tossed her bits now and then. It was an unspoken deal between them. He wold scold us for doing the same thing, so he kept his transgression quiet. Scooter would just park her little body below the counter while he worked, and he'd toss her pieces of skin, gristle, and fat, and the odd scrap of actual meat without a word.

Scooter never failed to catch a piece of food thrown to her, however badly aimed. It became a past-time of ours. Some of us argued that she caught and swallowed in a single motion. I tested this theory by throwing something she wouldn't normaly eat, like a piece of lettuce. She caught it expertly as always, then spit it out a second later. (Whereas, Brindi will catch dog treats in her mouth just as accurately, but if she doesn't like one, she'll discreetly move to a corner and gingerly deposit them on the floor, as if reluctant to seem ungrateful or impolite!)

We used to take Scooter, squirming in our arms, up into our treehouse, where she could see birds a little closer; on occasion we'd walk her to the "sand pit" (an open slope where we sledded in winter), to let her run around in the deserted grass while we rolled down the hill. My little sister called this a "vacation".

After college, when I shared an apartment in the city with my sister Nancy, we took Scooter in for a week when my folks went away. We found we could cure her of her begging habit without too much trouble, and were very proud of ourselves for it, too. Sadly, we neglected to train my parents not to feed her from the table after they returned, so Scooter of course resumed begging as usual. It was useless to lecture my parents about it. They'd agree vehemently that begging was bad, then within seconds my mom would absentmindedly drop a scrap of food over the side of the table into the patiently waiting little jaws. You can teach an old dog new tricks, but human habits die pretty hard.

Our experience with Scoooter is a big reason why I was adamant about not giving Brindi food from the table, whether tossed to her or placed in her dish, from day one. I never did it. As much as I adore her, I know that giving in once virtually means a lifelong battle and I didn't want a dog constantly at my elbow with that expectant look in her eye. I found myself having to keep a sharp eye on friends and guests here because she sometimes gave it a try with them. It paid off, though. For instance, I don't have to think twice when I leave a plate of my food next to the bed or even on it to go down for a glass of milk. I know I will return to find the plate unmolested and Brindi lounging quietly two feet away, just as I left her. Not bad, I'd say! (It's a different matter with kitty food, however - it's got to be up on a table or out the door!)

My dad and Scooter were a funny pair, though. I don't remember him walking her all that much before I left for college though he must have. In general I guess it was our job, and fair enough. He made occasional comic half-hearted attempts to curb Scooter's begging, bellowing at her in his fluent Longislandese, "This is human food. You're a DAWG!" He gave the impression that she was a full-fledged German Shepherd as he ruggedly moved her around by the collar. But he didn't seem to mind if we dressed her in our old pajamas for fun, and was good-natured about it if she slept with us instead of the blanket "box" he set up for her downstairs. Usually she'd make the rounds of our beds and her box throughout the night - not his bed - but she'd always insist on being invited up first. I remember many a night being roused by her soft doggie murmurs. Not until I'd pat the bed once would she fling herself up and snuggle into the curve of my body for an hour or two before departing for somebody else's bed.

Scooter lived to be fourteen years old. The last few years she not only still limped, but her little head, with its big brown eyes, never fully lost the palsy from the concussion after the car accident. She was still our beautiful girl, though. And we all loved her deeply and told Scooter stories with relish. 

Dad used to pretend to complain to guests that he was the only male in the house of six women, "Even the dawg!" Scooter was a woman to us. I guess he felt the same. I will never forget how tenderly and devotedly he took care of her after that accident. I can forgive his impatience with her in later years; if I could have taken her to live with me, I certainly would have. 

In many ways Brindi reminds me of Scooter, even some of her markings. Brindi's luxurious eyelashes are more prominent, though, maybe because Scooter was only half of her size. Brindi is just as loving and affectionate, I think, although much more sparing about kisses. Scooter had deadly aim with her tongue and was quite aerobatic: during her customary gushy greetings, Scooter could jump up mid-wag, lick the kid or crouching adult right on the mouth, and be back down on the floor with split-second timing, never touching their bodies. They never knew what hit them.

We were so lucky to have Dad, who had a great sense of what kids liked without being asked. He built us girls a tree house and taught me how to hammer a nail and use a screwdriver, and let us have Scooter, tolerating the extra pandemonium she brought to the household. It made for great copy, if nothing else!

I love you, Dad. Happy Birthday, wherever you are! I'm sure Scooter is right there with you, waiting for savory treats. 

You decide

Chickens and dogs. 

Well, I heard another story. A German Shepherd in Shad Bay about three weeks ago killed a few chickens while their owner watched out her window. She hadn't had the birds for very long. Horrified, she called 911, and the cops that arrived put the dog in the back of their cruiser. They were followed by animal control, who issued a ticket to the marauding dog's owner, on the scene by then. End of story, except to say that the woman soon got rid of the surviving chickens. 

Was this a proper application of A300 when a dog kills two or more animals?

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30 Million Dangerous Dogs?

Here's an excerpt from a recent paper that came my way, published by the Animals and Society Institute:*

"Dog Bites: Problems and Solutions - a Policy Paper"
Existing and Proposed Legal Remedies - Attempts to Identify and Remove high risk animals: Dangerous Dog Laws"

The second common legislative approach (the first is breed bans) to remove dangerous dogs from the population targets the behaviour of the individual dog, designating dogs with labels such as "potentially dangerous", "dangerous", or in some cases "vicious" based on actual incidents, and then either eliminating the dogs or limiting the conditions under which they may be kept (such as requiring sterilization, micro-chipping, training, behavioural consultation, muzzling, etc.) Such laws increasingly also specify civil and criminal liability incurred by people whose dogs injure someone after receiving such a designation.

There is some evidence that a "prior behaviour" approach to the "dangerous dog" designation may decrease injurious bite incidence. This has only been demonstrated, however, where the dangerous dog label is limited to dogs who have already bitten and injured someone. A program in Oregon showed a decrease from 25 percent to 7 percent in repeat injurious bites (of people) after the implementation of a program restricting conditions of ownership of dogs who had injuries.

Many dangerous dog laws try not only to control dogs who have already injured people, but to predict which ones will do so in the future and attempt to prevent this. Typical legal descriptions of "dangerous" dog behaviour include "approaches in a vicious or terrorizing manner", "in a menacing fashion", having a "known disposition, tendency, or propensity", or "engages in any behaviour that requires a defensive action by any person to prevent bodily injury".

Aside from the subjectivity of these descriptions, the main difficulty with such an approach is that the best research to date indicates the likelihood that a majority of dogs engage in such behaviour without hurting anyone.

One groundbreaking study found that 41 percent of the dogs studied had growled, snarled or snapped at a familiar person at some time, but only 15 percent of those dogs actually bit anyone. Of those who bit someone, only 10 percent of the bites were considered injurious, making the total incidents of injurious dog bites only 1.5 percent of the total dogs studied.

This means that a hypothetical net cast to identify the 1.5 percent of dogs actually captures at least 41 percent of the dog population. And since this study only included behaviour toward family members and other people well known to the dog, and only included guardians responsible and caring enough to provide veterinary care for their companions, the percentage of potential problems within the entire dog population must certainly be considerably higher.

A history of threatening behaviour has not been shown to predict that a dog will bite, much less that she will injure if she bites.
...

Other Outcomes

With regard to dangerous dog laws based on behaviour, as discussed above, definitions of dangerous are so varied and subject to interpretation that most dogs' behaviour could be interpreted to qualify.

A conservative estimate would be about 30 million dogs would likely meet the criteria (this estimate is based on a study that found 41 percent of dogs growl, snarl, or snap at a familiar person, and thus does not include dogs that only threaten strangers, so the real percentage is almost certainly considerably greater).

Some statutes require only that the dog "endangered" a person in some way, leaving the way open for complaints by anyone who simply felt (but was not really) endangered.

All this creates a serious danger of abuse in any system that attempts to weed out "potentially dangerous" animals who have not bitten anyone. It casts a net far too wide to be enforceable.

When laws exist without the practical means to widely enforce them, the result is selective enforcement based on grudge complaints, and widespread non-compliance.

*Boldfacing, underlining, a few parenthesized notes, and paragraph separations, added by me).

Do You Feel Lucky?

Pump going again, did two loads of laundry. I owe the flow to a kind man named Sheldon who lives up the road from me and came to fix the second leak, and redo the first. It was a pretty gusty afternoon to be standing on a ladder cutting copper tubing, with the risk of getting drenched when it was time to test the system.

I have an obscene amount of dishes to do now. No rush...

Okay, I've been looking at this deal with my dog from all sorts of angles for almost four months now - the next badiversary is the 24th - and the more I learn, the more I see, the more absolutely incredulous I become. (Hint: see the poll in the left column). Animal control officials from the US and Canada write to me or comment on the petitions expressing their dismay and disapproval for what is going on. When the pros do that, something's got to be off somewhere. And it is not merely the system; that's a fundamental factor, but one of many. Even with the various bureaucratic limitations, there were and still are a number of ways out of it that do not require me to spend practically a year's salary to go to court.

Essentially Brindi is being held without charges. The charges should go to me of course, and I'd have the option to challenge them in court. But they didn't, and I don't. So the result is either sign her over, or take on some sort of court process, and the question becomes, which kind? There are so many ways to shape injunctions, applications, and suits, with a spectrum of risk vs. timing. I'm no lawyer - though at times I may seem as argumentative as one - but from what I gather, it's like this: you cannot appeal an injunction, but you can get one within a matter of days. You might reverse the kill order and even win damages in a lawsuit, and you can appeal the outcome, but takes a year to schedule the first day; an interim application takes a few weeks, and I have no idea actually if it can be appealed; we've filed another kind that takes two months to go before a judge. And we could base them on a number of different factors, from the lack of charge to the by-law itself. How much more confusing can it get? And the way things are going, I'll probably wind up with whichever judge ruled twice against the poor dog that roughed up a greyhound last year. As if he never heard of training, or a fence, or anything.

It pains me deeply that so many dog owners out there in HRM seem to fail to grasp the danger, never mind the injustice. Maybe it's easier to label the owner irresponsible, rather than the authorities, if only to be able to sleep at night. I really don't know. But I doubt my lone struggle will tone down the zeal of animal control. The truth is, an order to destroy can happen to any dog at any time. If nobody from the city deemed it appropriate to apologize to Jean Hanlon for the loss of her family cat, anything is possible, it seems to me. If I happened to own some other dog and not Brindi - and there's lots of big strong dogs out there, bigger than her - could I quietly watch this struggle? It's a troubling thought. Like everybody else, I'm distracted by the animal abuse cases popping up on a regular basis; they deserve all the attention and action they can get. But the threat of a seizure and kill of our own dogs is still there. You don't always get a 14-day grace period, either; it can be as few as three days. I know of no local group actively working to change that.

So, if you have a dog in HRM, I guess what it all comes down to is, are you feeling lucky?
Just how lucky?

Drenched

OK. So the pump is fine, it just blew a fuse, which I grudgingly found out. I say that because accessing the fusebox means mounting a lightweight ladder balanced on the rocks and dirt next to a footing with two-foot rebars sticking out of it, and carefully removing plastic covering and tape. Fortunately, a friend who happened to stop by on her way to a tea in Musquodoboit Harbour (gosh I hope that's the spelling) was willing to hold the ladder for me so I wouldn't fall and be impaled on the rebars.

As soon as the pump started, my joy was detoured, because had to shut it right off again. A pipe split open right over my head and the pump, cascading rusty water on both of us. Only an hour to spare before closing, I made it to Home Hardware, looking absolutely lovely of course, and bought some plastic joints. It was dark and rainy once I got home so I waited until today, when it was gray and rainy, to attempt to repair the break. This meant the ladder straddling the water tank, and using a hack-saw to trim a section of copper tubing - which had broken cross-wise along a copper joint. Then a struggle to reach up and sand the ends smooth so they'd fit into the plastic sleeves, and match them up straight. I didn't have great sandpaper and I should have sawn off an extra millimeter or two, because it was not quite aligned. But it was close enough for jazz, and when it comes to repairs done over the past 100 years, this is a very jazzy house. Extremely jazzy indeed.

Then a prayer and a throw of the switch. Instead of a cascade, this time, a torrent of water from directly under the kitchen soaked everything in all directions - the floorboards, the steel, the cribbing. Great stuff. Took minutes to slow and stop after I shut off the pump. I cried. The break was at a joint with a shut-off valve. I must have been psychic, because yesterday I happened to buy a valve just like it. I moved the ladder over to the spot, and once the water stopped pelting my head, I took a closer look, and soon realized I cannot possibly fix it myself. I can't get it off, for starters. So another day without water. At least there was plenty of it around the footings. I filled one jug for flushing the toilet. It's not pretty in and out of this house, let's face it. Tomorrow I will have to find somebody with plumbing tendencies, if not a plumber, and try it again - I won't be surprised if another waterfall turns up. Then I've got to wrap the pipes with the stuff I bought last week. Loads of excitement.

Meanwhile. I have another serious problem with my laptop. After a period of loosening, the power supply stopped working altogether in early September. A friend took it for repairs as a favor. I haven't seen it since. It's my brain; Brindi's my heart; both gone. Don't even ask what's on it; everything, just everything. There was no way to back it up, since it had no power and the battery was dead, of course, no power to charge it. Last full backup was three months old. Inexplicably, it's been torn apart so much that it might be useless now. If I don't already have an ulcer, this will give me one. I didn't want anything more than the power supply to be fixed but my wishes evidently did not count. I don't know what to do now; I hijacked a Dell from a friend and he needs it back. He will get it because I intensely dislike PC's, no offense, and physical limitations make anything other than the Powerbook feasible for me. Apple no longer makes the one I have (titanium G4), which even Apple salesmen regret. Last I looked, they don't make anything comparable. If I had the money to buy a new one, which I don't. As it is, I have to buy myself a crown to cover my implant, about four thousand. Been walking around with a gap for months. I only mention this - why do I mention it? Not really relevant. Sorry.

Today I wrote to more people about Brindi, and forwarded the letter to Best Friends in Utah with a brief note. We don't have a place lined up for a Facebook meeting yet, but I hope we will soon. Yesterday I spoke to Heather Anderson again; she was so kind to call. She sure has her hands full with her own animals, four or five dogs, six cats, hedgehogs (!), and more, plus running the D.A.I.S.Y? Foundation. It's amazing. She was hoping to call Tom Young's call-in show tomorrow, on 95.7, if her duties permit her. Other radio possibilities: on Friday afternoon I may be a guest on CKDU (88.1 FM at Dalhousie University. The only station left, as WRFL at the University of Kentucky says of its same location on the dial). More on that as and if it develops.

Since this whole thing began, I've heard from two people with dogs that look remarkably like Brindi. It's really something, because I'd never come across anything like her before. I remember that when I dropped Brindi at the kennel last January, there was a dog that looked so much like her, it fooled me for a second. She was paired with another dog owned by the same people. She might even be a puppy of Brindi's, or maybe a littermate - none of Brindi's pups look exactly like her. She and her larger friend, sort of a greyhound, were recent arrivals and the kennel owner put them in an outdoor pen to get Brindi used to being there with other dogs. She was fine, just directed all her attention to me, out there on the icy ground. I hated to go, and I just cringe now when I remember her look of confusion changing to distress as I began to leave; it's so awful. It was a great kennel, new, clean, lots of room, lots of outdoor runs, but she was not thrilled, I can tell you. She didn't spare a second to look back once when I picked her up. That was a ten-day stay. I don't blame her, after being cooped up for two years, she paid her dues in spades. Now her stay at the SPCA is well over three months, going on four. I know she's tough, but inside, she's got to be hurting, and who wouldn't be?