The math is pretty simple, and it tears me apart. A three-foot-long dog tied to a four-foot long chain 24 hours a day, 365 days a year is inevitably forced to live in its own urine and feces. There’s simply no way around it. And that’s on a good day, when its chain isn’t tangled. Last week was full of bad days for a beautiful retriever mix whose daily struggle for survival I’ve been monitoring. Its chain had become tangled, and as a result was reduced to about three feet in length, a fact its owners took no notice of for days. As a result, it could no longer reach the filthy plastic dog carrier it used for shelter. The pathetic evidence of how hard that dog struggled to crawl inside as the temperatures dipped into the low teens last week was smeared across the side of its box in mud and crap stains its paws had left behind as it desperately clawed away in vain.
Its struggle to survive was compounded by the fact that it also couldn’t reach the filth-streaked water bucket just outside the reach of the tangled chain. Not that that mattered. The water had long since frozen on the ground where the bucket had tumbled over. The good news was that the food its owners threw down for it in the feces and mud at its feet was at least accessible. The downside, of course, was that by eating it, the animal was virtually guaranteed to suffer from parasites.
Most rational people or, actually, anyone with a pulse, would consider this to be animal abuse. In Charlotte-Mecklenburg, however, it’s perfectly legal. After I called Animal Control to report this situation, an officer came out and cited the owners — for not paying the city license fee and for failing to get the animal’s rabies shots. When I checked later that day after Animal Control’s visit, the water bucket had been moved within reach of the dog, but its chain was still tangled.
When I called Animal Control again to complain without identifying myself, I was told that it’s not illegal to throw an animal’s food on the ground, feces smeared or not, and that nothing in city code specifies how long a dog’s chain must be. All of this, unfortunately, is true. Though a vague section of the code prohibits keeping animals in “unsanitary conditions,” the term isn’t defined, leaving Animal Control officers, many of whom are well-meaning, a wide leeway to address — or ignore — the conditions in which these animals live.
The tragedy is that the case above isn’t an isolated one. Because I do some animal rescue work, I run into dogs like this quite often. In fact, there’s another one living in similar conditions just two houses down. It’s not only gross and unsanitary, it’s also dangerous. Animal experts agree that permanently chaining dogs makes them aggressive and territorial. In fact, the websites of those who fight pit bulls regularly advise owners to keep them perpetually chained on a short tether to make them meaner.
After attacks by chained dogs, 50 communities in 26 states have limited chaining, or banned it entirely. The state of Connecticut recently passed rules limiting the practice and Hawaii is considering similar laws. If we’re going to continue to allow this arguably dangerous practice, it’s time for the city to consider setting a minimum length for the chains on which many dogs spend their entire tortured lives.
Unfortunately, the problems with the city’s antiquated animal codes don’t end with unsanitary conditions. Though our ordinances forbid owners from keeping animals outdoors without shelter that allows them to remain “dry and comfortable,” “shelter” isn’t defined. Even if the dog above had managed to crawl into her carrier, the side has open slats that let the cold air and the rain in, doing her little good. A dog I couldn’t save a few years ago lived under an old pickup truck, which meets Animal Control’s goals of a “tarp or shelter” over her head. Unfortunately, it kept her dry, but not warm. It was a particularly harsh winter that year, and she had to be put down because by spring her paws were so ruined by frostbite that she could no longer walk. Two years later, I’m still haunted by the image of her crawling around in the back of a pickup truck, struggling to stand and greet what was probably the only kind face she’d seen in ages.
While city leaders should be commended for the efforts they’ve made to cut the kill rate at our shelters, most of the rest of the changes they’ve made, including those aimed at addressing dangerous dogs, have been centered around raising and collecting more money from pet owners.
It’s time we joined the civilized world and the hundreds of communities across the country that are re-examining and changing their animal codes. Surely we can do better than this.
To email your council members about this issue, go to www.charmeck.nc.us and click on “elected officials” and then “city council.”
Contact Tara Servatius at tara.servatius@cln.com
This article appears in Dec 29, 2004 – Jan 4, 2005.
