It's a big bad world!

It's a big bad world!

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Sometimes you need more than one brush...

I'm a little disturbed.  Now, of course..to many of you, that may not be news..but beyond that...I'm a little stressed about directions right now.
Not long ago...we wept..collectively...as dog lovers..over what happened to Rosie.  And inside..I still weep.  I'm PROUD of the monumental effort that everyone put forth to bring that event into the light..to make people see what happened..and to do our best to make sure that justice was served.  The situation was clearly unacceptable behaviour..and we rallied.  And now..we wait.  Because that's about all there is to be done at this time.  And if..in the end..an attempt is made to sweep this under the carpet..we shall rally again..and I will be there in any way I can.
There has been news stories of other events that were similar to Rosie..and each of us is rightfully outraged when we read of them.  Dogs shot with no provocation..and no reason to do so.  Sport killing of pets..so to speak.  And in each of those cases...I am equally dismayed..and more than willing to stand and be heard.  And I think publicity for those is ALSO justifiable..outrage is reasonable, realistic, and to be applauded.
BUT...
A new twist to this is appearing..and I personally find it a bit alarming.  The only phrase that really comes to mind for it is "cop bashing". The most recent dog shooting post that appeared on my facebook wall hit with a vengeance earlier today..several posts...a case here in Canada..where the police shot a bulldog that was actively lunging at the officer, during an altercation with the owner.
A situation where the police had been to the residence no less than twice a week for 80 days.
A situation where complaints had been filed for methamphetamines..drunk driving..weapons..and assault.
Now..where I live...I would seriously be a little nervous as a peace officer, going into a situation where I was dealing with an agitated person...with that kind of recent history. Methamphetamines..weapons..and assault are not conducive to peaceful interaction.  And when that someone came out yelling and released his two bull dogs..one of whom was lunging and trying to bite ..things got ugly fast.  This was a dog that did not retreat even after being smacked three times with a baton...and who was actively preventing the officer from restraining the person he/she was dealing with.  Hmmmm.
 I'm sorry..I'm having a LOT of trouble framing this along side of Rosie's tragic demise.
Reviewing the posts of the last few days...another one..where a dog was shot during a drug raid..and the question was the lead in for the post....ARE MY DOGS NOT SAFE IN MY OWN HOME???  Now..a headline about a dog being shot during a drug raid does NOT shiver me timbers, you know?  Mainly because...I don't have drugs in my house..I'm NOT cooking meth on the back burner..and because of that..I think it's pretty unlikely that the police are going to come to my house for anything but to ask directions.  They've done that a time or two..and they have never YET cuffed me or done anything to make my dogs see them as a threat.  IN fact..once, while giving a witness statement for something, the officer sat at my table and let my puppy try to remove the rubber sole off his boot, and they had a lot of fun together.  So, unless you ARE doing that kind of thing, I don't think you are actually on the mind of the police either.  Really, I don't think they care what the law abiding, normal citizen is doing most of the time.  They aren't going to drop in casually to see if you have a dog they can shoot.  And making statements like that is, sadly.. a little too tabloid for my tastes.
When I foolishly voiced my concerns about all of these cases being lumped together as excessive force..I was advised that the group was "losing momentum"..and keeping these dog shooting on top of the pile...would prevent that from happening.  And I thought..oh..my.
That was my cue that maybe it was time to step back, because I don't WANT my name attached to anything that applies equally to an innocent pet being shot or a meth house guard dog being shot.  I don't WANT my name attached to the concept that an officer who is being actively attacked in THAT kind of situation should stop and try to make friends..even if it endangers his life.  Nope..sorry..does not work for me.

I suddenly realized that there were interchangeable terms here..."losing momentum" just MIGHT become interchangeable with "losing credibility". Why?  Because I don't think your average intelligent citizen thinks it is reasonable to expect a police officer to be a chew toy for a watchdog at a meth house...or any similar situation.  I don't believe that they should be vilified for justifiable situations. And if we, as dog lovers..keep standing on our soapbox, wringing our hands about the "poor doggy" when the situation is suspiciously a valid situation, it is not going to take too long for us to completely lose credibility. And when that happens...we are not helping anyone.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Thinking of Rosie....

For those of you who do not live in my world..the world where things tend to center around dogs...you may not have heard about Rosie..the two year old Newfoundland that was shot and killed by the police in Des Moines, WA.  Her crime?  Being out of her own yard.  Being scared.  Being a dog.  The Newfoundland community is reacting..as well they should...and my heart has been consumed by thoughts of this for days.
The  vigil for Rosie will be beginning in a little while.  I'm sitting here, a thousand miles away, with a five month Newfoundland puppy watching me.   She's sleepy...she needs to nap..but she's afraid I might go "do" something, and she will miss out on it.  She likes to "help" me...no matter what I am doing.  It's her life's goal...to be with ME.  If I'm not around, another human will suffice.  She could be doing other things, her life is pretty much a playground.  But she is with ME, as are the rest, by CHOICE.

Right now, I'm glad she is staying awake.  I'm at a point where when I look at any one of the nine Newfoundlands I live with and see them sleeping, I think of Rosie's closed eyes, and my heart comes into my throat..my eyes water..and I have to think of something else or I have a meltdown.  Inevitably, I think of the police officers involved in this..no, it wasn't just ONE..this was a team effort.  I almost think it was a sporting event for them...sick as that may sound.
I can't help but wonder exactly WHAT resides in their chest..for it certainly is not a heart similar to that of the people I know, nor is it a heart with any of the capacity of the creature they shot.  I hope, in the aftermath, they come to understand exactly what they have destroyed.

I've had Newfoundlands for almost 30 years.  I don't know how many, I would have to count, and that's not the point. The point is that in my world, some of the most important moments I've had have been shared with Newfoundland dogs.  When my son and daughter were born, the dogs were waiting at home, expectantly, and were delighted when I opened up the blankets and let them sniff tiny newborn toes.  Those toes became "Property of a Newfoundland" the minute the dogs saw them.  The little person they were part of was a cherished family member immediately  for those big shaggy heads .  Some of the dogs set up a vigil by the cradle.   Others would nudge my hand in the night if they thought the baby was fussing too much while it slept.  One would airscent and come and nudge me and GLARE if the baby had a dirty diaper.  These children learned to walk with a handful of fur, because the dogs would instinctively allow them to climb to standing, and then gauge their speed so that the child could toddle along beside them. They took their job very seriously and often my biggest battle was convincing one in particular that it was "ok" for my son to get on the school bus by himself.  And always, when it rolled back into the yard in the afternoon, she would be waiting for it, and checking him over to make sure they hadn't done anything to him.  God forbid that either of the children cried, because if they did, the dogs would become extremely upset.  And yes, whenever I cried, they were equally compassionate.  They stood by me, steadfast, through the loss of a husband and the loss of my mother.  Never wavering, there to support me...and giving me a sense of safety just by their presence in my home and in my life. When I grieve for anything, they sense it.  They move closer.  They SHARE my life..the good and the bad, and they ask for nothing but my hand on their head as thanks.




I'm thinking of the officer being so delighted that he "got a BIG one", and quite frankly, it makes me want to vomit to know that he is even breathing the same air as normal, intelligent human beings.  Because I remember, so distinctly, the time my two year old son wandered out of my yard, and I was frantic, trying to find him in the fields..screaming his name against a howling wind.  I recall how I heard barking...looked up, and saw my beautiful Cosby's white tipped tail waving through the tall wheat, as he barked and tried to call me.  He saw me acknowledge him..and he took off back in the direction he had come from.. I followed, and found the child, stuck up to his thighs in the mud, crying, unable to get out.  I could see the teeth marks in his little tshirt where Cosby had tried unsuccessfully to help him.  I could see the muddy hand prints all over Cosby from the child trying to let Cosby pull him out. I remember Cosby's insane JOY when I picked that child up out of the mud, his immediate desire to get him clean, and the love in that big dog's eyes for that child.

  My mind wanders to watching my kids try unsuccessfully to wander towards open water, with two or three Newfs constantly stepping between them and the water, nope, you can't go in the water, and we will make SURE you don't.  The kids were frustrated and kept trying to walk around..and the dogs would calmly walk forward or step back, whichever was required.  And it still makes me smile to remember Suzy dragging my daughter Sara out from between two slabs of snow - by the front of her little snow suit..when she "derailed' her little sleigh and got wedged on her back like a fat little beetle...kicking and screaming, and unable to roll over because of "too many clothes" and not enough co-ordination.  Susy..tugging gently, and backwards..till she could get up on her feet...so precious. At no point was she ever ASKED to do that.  Nobody TAUGHT her that.  It was their job, by instinct, to to protect human life.


No dog deserves to die the way Rosie did.  And certainly not a breed like this...a breed whose commitment to humans is legendary...a breed that is known for their sterling gentleness and love of human kind.


I look at a picture of one of my first Newfs sleeping in the playpen with my son, his head against her back, and curled into her.   And I WEEP.  Because THAT is the kind of creature you killed.  An animal that has such a commitment to humans that it would DIE to protect them.  That it would risk it's LIFE to save a child, or really, any person.  Are you proud of yourself?

I believe, in my heart, that what goes around comes around.  I hope that someday, you are able to understand how insane your actions were.

To the Wrights, my heartfelt sympathies.  And Rosie...run, play, swim..you are safe now, and you will never be frightened again.

"In a world older and more complete than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth."  Henry Beston