DogTown (2 page)

Judge Hudson reserved his harshest sentence for Michael Vick, who was sentenced to 23 months in federal prison, followed by three years’ probation. When he is released from prison, he could face additional charges under Virginia state law. Judge Hudson said he was “convinced that [the dogfighting ring] was not a momentary lack of judgment” but that Vick was “a full partner” in the sadistic enterprise. As part of his sentencing agreement with the court, Vick was ordered to deposit one million dollars into an escrow account to care for the confiscated dogs. In December 2007 he entered the federal penitentiary at Leavenworth, Kansas.

The case received national publicity, and even the most rabid sports fans were appalled by its sordid details and by the unbelievable cruelty shown to animals. When
Sports Illustrated
polled its readers about the Bad Newz Kennels investigation, 61 percent of the respondents said they thought Vick should be banned from the NFL for life, although in the face of his crimes against creatures, his athletic career hardly seemed the issue anymore.

A VOICE FOR THE VOICELESS

But throughout this whole drama, populated with lawyers, defendants, journalists, and angry onlookers, a second, sadder story was unfolding. What would happen to the dogs who lived at the house on Moonlight Road? Georgia and the more than 50 dogs like her, the central characters in this drama, had no say at all in their fates. These dogs had been used and abused—and, some said, permanently ruined—by humans.

Georgia’s cropped ears, as well as the multiple scars on her head and muzzle, bear witness to her history as a former fighter.

Animal care organizations agonized, and disagreed, over what to do. Some groups felt that these dogs were too damaged to save. “If there is a professional dogfighting operation, we typically recommend euthanasia [killing] of the animals,” said Wayne Pacelle, president of the Humane Society of the United States (HSUS). (In 2009 HSUS policy changed to recommend evaluation of dogs rescued from dogfighting rings to assess adoption potential.) “If the current set of facts is not disputed, that they were killing off the less aggressive animals and keeping alive the best, most aggressive fighters, then it does not make sense to keep these animals alive. It’s very difficult to reprogram a fighting dog. It’s a tragic and sad circumstance that rests at the feet of the people who abused these animals this way.”

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) was in agreement with the HSUS point of view. “In most cases, pit bulls seized from dogfighting rings are euthanized, and as sad as that is to all of us, it may be the best thing to do for everyone concerned,” PETA spokesman Dan Shannon said. PETA also pointed out that, though the court was authorized to deal with the animals as it saw fit, trying to sell the dogs was an exceedingly bad idea. There would be huge bragging rights in claiming to own a “Michael Vick dog”—not to mention the fact that a champion fighter could fetch as much as $40,000—and a great temptation to return such dogs to the fighting pit. For the time being, the location of the dogs was kept secret. “They are a hot commodity in the world of dogfighting,” the PETA spokesman said.

Why would it be “humane” to kill the animals? “The gameness that the dogfighters strive for—and ‘gameness’ is the willingness to continue fighting, even in the face of extreme pain, even in the face of death—is something that’s bred into the dogs,” explained John Goodwin, the HSUS expert on animal fighting issues. “There are pit bulls that have been bred away from the fighting lines that are perfectly socialized, but the game-bred dogs—bred for fighting—just have it bred into them to want to kill any dog in front of them.”

The idea that such dogs cannot be changed was eerily echoed by an observation in
The Dog Pit: How to Breed and Train Fighting Dogs,
an 1888 dogfighting manual: “The bulldog is the most ugly and unrelenting of the canine breed. He will attack any animal, no matter whether it be a lion or a tiger. It is strange and yet a fact that the brain of a bulldog is smaller than that of any other animal…a bulldog is devoid of every attribute of intelligence, and he is only fit for the pit.” (Here the author’s use of the term
bulldog
refers to what we now call pit bulls.)

Seeking a fair solution, the U.S. Attorney’s Office published notices in a Richmond newspaper giving anyone 30 days to prove ownership of any of the Vick dogs. Not surprisingly, nobody was foolish enough to step forward. At that point the case moved to a federal judge, who had two options: either sell the dogs or dispose of them “by other humane means.” “Humane means” usually means killing them.

ENTER DOGTOWN

From the very beginning of the Vick case, there was at least one animal welfare group that strongly disagreed with the position taken by both the HSUS and PETA: Best Friends Animal Society in Kanab, Utah. In addition to sponsoring spay and neuter campaigns to reduce the number of unwanted animals, Best Friends takes in and provides medical care, love, and rehabilitation for thousands of dogs, cats, horses, rabbits, birds, potbellied pigs, and even some wild animals (which are treated and released, when possible). To the people at Best Friends, all animals, including Georgia and the other rescued dogs, are viewed as individuals, each deserving a second chance at a good life. Best Friends does not believe that killing an animal is ever an option, except when painful, terminal disease makes euthanasia the kindest thing to do.

To Best Friends, the Vick dogs were the victims of a sadistic crime, and accordingly should not simply be held as evidence until the court proceeding was over and then put down. Any dog, the organization avowed, even one confiscated from a dogfighting ring, deserved a chance to be rehabilitated and—if possible—transformed from fighting dog to loving pet. Accordingly, Best Friends began campaigning in the face of widespread public skepticism to bring some or all of the Vick dogs into its sanctuary in the scenic canyon lands of southern Utah.

Paul Berry, then the executive director of Best Friends, argued that all the Vick dogs would “have very good lives, either here in the sanctuary or in new forever homes. And yes, that means we’re keeping the door open so that some can be adopted. We’ve worked with ‘bully breeds’ and dog-aggressive dogs for many years. We’ve been successful in rehabilitating many dogs who have been as severely abused as these have. So we’re quite confident that by recovering their trust and teaching them life skills, many can be adoptable, given the right home environment.”

At first, it was believed that Georgia’s missing teeth were torn out during fights, but x-rays revealed they were most likely pulled by a vet.

In September 2007, Best Friends and other groups filed a brief with the court, requesting that the dogs not be killed, and tried to educate the court about the positive traits of pit bulls and the sadistic nature of dogfighting. In December, the court recommended that the 47 remaining dogs be distributed to various rescue organizations. Twenty-two of the most difficult dogs, including Georgia, would be sent to Dogtown.

A SECOND CHANCE

Volunteers and staff at Dogtown furiously began retrofitting the kennels and runs, so that each dog would have a spacious run and a cozy place to sleep at night but could be kept separate from each other and from the other dogs at Dogtown. (About $400,000 from Vick’s $1 million court settlement would go to help pay for the transportation, housing, and upkeep of these lucky animals.)

Before the dogs were transported to their new home in Utah, a small team from Dogtown flew to Virginia to assess the dogs and to begin developing relationships with them, to ease their transition to the sanctuary. Among the group was John Garcia.

John, whose moon-shaped face seems forever to be trying—and failing—to repress a milewide smile, has an instinctive knack for understanding dogs and dog behavior. He is someone who seems to walk through life with a companion dog beside him, whether the dog is actually there or not. He grew up in Fredonia, Arizona, in the canyon country not far from the Best Friends sanctuary. An only child, John was raised by his mother from the age of 13 after his father died of cancer. Like many animal lovers, he always felt like a bit of an outsider: Though he has olive skin and a Hispanic last name, he does not speak Spanish and is not a practitioner of the Mormon faith, which predominates in the area. His main friend was his dog, Sprocket, a beloved chow-timber wolf mix.

“Sometimes I’d come home from school on Friday, throw on a backpack, and Sprocket and I would just go out into the canyons for a couple of days,” John said, adding that “from an early age, I always knew I wanted to work with animals, especially dogs. I had a few pretty lucrative options out of high school, but I decided to be happy and not rich.”

Both chows and wolf hybrids are said to be aggressive, dangerous dogs, but Sprocket was a lovable animal who was always treated like a member of the family. “You can’t make the blanket statement that such-and-such a breed will bite you,” John said. “To say that a certain breed is bad or evil—like pit bulls—is like saying that every Caucasian male is Jeffrey Dahmer.” In fact, in ten years of working as a dog trainer at Dogtown, he has never once been bit by a pit bull. He’s had a Labrador take a chunk out of his calf and a Chihuahua hanging off his arm, and he has gotten nerve damage in one hand from the bite of a boxer mix. But a pit bull? Never. Pit bulls, in his experience, are “easily socialized, fun-loving, affectionate, confident, and loyal. They can be the best dogs ever, if properly raised.”

Despite the nationwide publicity about the Vick case, John, who seldom watches television, was almost completely unaware of the situation until he was told to get ready for the Virginia trip. In preparation, the team viewed assessment videotapes made by the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) and BadRap, a San Francisco rescue group devoted to helping deconstruct the myths that surround pit bulls. But where other people may have seen scary, lunging brutes, John recalled, “I was jumping up and down, going, ‘
Whoohoo!
I’m going to play with some pitties!’”

Pit bulls, John knew very well, are so sweet and affectionate with humans that at the turn of the century they were widely considered to be ideal dogs for families, including those with small children. The mascot for Buster Brown children’s shoes was a smiling child in a sailor cap, with a pet pit bull sitting beside him. On the old-time movie series
Our Gang
(later known as
The Little Rascals
), featuring the adventures of a group of mischievous children, the kids’ beloved pet was a pit bull named Pete the Pup (later named Petey), who was forever rescuing Spanky, Alfalfa, and other members of the gang by yanking them out of trouble with his powerful jaws. Pit bulls’ reputation as the bad boys of the dog world is largely a modern occurrence.

“Sometimes I’ll be showing people a dog and she’ll be all affectionate and licking them all over, and then I tell them she’s a pit bull and they just stiffen,” John said. But knowing and loving the breed, John wasn’t scared about going to Virginia at all.

John solemnly added, “One of the saddest things about dogfighting is that the main reason pit bulls fight is because they are so loyal to their masters. They will do anything for you, even fight to the death, just to please you.”

GEORGIA MEETS JOHN

When John and the rest of the team got to Virginia to assess the dogs, “nobody knew exactly where the dogs were, and the court had a gag order in place to keep their location secret.” There had been so much publicity about the case, and the cachet of owning a “Vick pit” was so high, there was fear that someone might attempt to steal them. John and the team would meet each of the 22 dogs, give them all new names to start their new lives, and assess their behavior and temperaments.