Susanna J. Sturgis   Martha's Vineyard writer and editor
writer editor born-again horse girl

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Dog Wars

September 09, 2008

Dog wars are a staple of life on Martha's Vineyard, but the one that's been running the last few months is a doozy. I've been paying close attention because the dogs involved are Siberian huskies, and Siberians are close enough to Alaskan malamutes in looks and temperament that we stand and fall together. A month or so ago the animal control officer (ACO) in my town called me up to ask if I knew anything about a Sibe she'd just picked up around Pin Oak Circle. She knew I had a malamute puppy, and that Rhodry was half malamute; ergo I was a likely source of intelligence about a Siberian running loose off Old County Road. QED.

The current case, like I said, is a doozy. You can read all about it here, but keep in mind that not all the facts are true. The main perp is barely two-year-old Siberian named Storm. He caused enough trouble of the chicken-killing and livestock-menacing variety to get banned from Tisbury, where his owners, Ken and Nina Garde, live. A week ago last Saturday he got loose from his temporary home in Oak Bluffs and killed 15 of Elisha Smith's chickens. He was accompanied by his eight-month-old daughter, Mussa, who belongs to the Gardes' daughter, Rebecca. Storm had obviously used up his three strikes and then some -- a home was being sought for him off-island -- but a public hearing was scheduled in Oak Bluffs to determine whether Storm and Mussa were "vicious dogs," and if they were found to be so they could be euthanized.

"Vicious" means dogs that go out of their way to attack people, which in my book is a long way from attacking chickens, however unfortunate that may be. Some of the rhetoric, online and elsewhere, was been, to put it mildly, vitriolic. Around here, at the first scent of blood, grudge-bearers come pouring out of the woodwork, baying for blood and more blood and a pound of flesh if they can get it. Almost invariably the grudges are couched in language about the public good, so the last few days we've heard plenty about how if a dog kills chickens one day he may be after your kid the next. I'd rather -- way rather -- take my chances with a whole pack of chicken-killing Siberians than with some of these people.

I decided that not only did I have to go to the public hearing, I had to prepare something to say. So I wrote this letter to the Oak Bluffs board of selectmen. As it happened, the hearing was low-key, no one was baying for blood (these people much prefer to bay behind other people's backs, not to their faces), and things were moving smartly in a positive direction, so I only read a couple of paragraphs and did some extemporizing. I did leave copies with the selectmen, and when one requested that it be included in the record of the hearing, the others agreed.

* * *

To the Selectmen
Oak Bluffs

I don't know the Garde family. I don't know either of their dogs. I'm here because I have a six-month-old Alaskan malamute puppy, and because my previous dog, Rhodry, was half malamute. Rhodry was born on Martha's Vineyard, and for 13 years he lived an island life. We walked on just about every conservation property that allowed dogs and some that didn't. (Being a heavy-coated dog he was not big on beaches, but we walked some of them too.) Since I don't own a home, Rhodry in the course of his life lived in four different rentals. Rhodry spent the second half of his life around horses and was my trail-riding buddy almost to the end of his life. He had his lapses, but overall he was a pretty good citizen and a very good tenant.

I say all this because Alaskan malamutes and Siberian huskies are both "northern breeds," and they have a few things in common. Both breeds were developed to pull sleds in cold climates. Siberians are smaller and built to pull fast. Malamutes are bigger and built to pull heavy loads. Both breeds are strong and energetic. They are also independent minded. I am told that this is because if you live in a cold, unforgiving climate you do not want dogs who will go out on the ice just because you tell them to. You want dogs who will recognize thin ice before you fall through it. Dogs who fell through thin ice generally didn't get to breed on. I don't know if this is true, but it makes sense to me.

What does this mean for us on Martha's Vineyard, where there is rarely enough snow to support a sled and we do most of our traveling by car and our hauling by truck? It means that we who own malamutes and huskies have to come up with other ways to keep them occupied -- not just their bodies but their minds. When I got Rhodry, I knew nothing about malamutes or half malamutes or northern breeds in general. What I knew was mostly Labs and Lab crosses. Rhodry taught me plenty, and the lessons weren't always easy. At the age of about eight months he came home with a neighbor's half-dead hen in his mouth. The hen didn't make it. My neighbors were very understanding. From then on Rhodry was tied up when I wasn't out with him. Several years later, he and another dog mortally wounded the other dog's owner's cat. We'll never know which dog did the damage, but I paid the vet bill. Last January, when x-rays revealed a tumor at the base of Rhodry's spine, they also revealed a piece of buckshot in his right leg. I don't know how or when it got there, but I have my suspicions.

My story has several morals that I hope you'll keep in mind as you consider Mussa's case. One, maybe the most important one, is that humans are trainable. When unexpected things happen, we learn to take better precautions, and when our dogs do harm, we can both make restitution and take steps toward avoiding a recurrence. This weekend I contacted Rebecca Garde by e-mail. Last night we talked at length on the phone about Mussa. I believe that Rebecca has already learned a lot from Mussa, that she has taken responsibility for Mussa's actions, and that she will continue to do so. Mussa and Rebecca have been caught up in a circus whose main event is Storm, Mussa's father. Storm and Mussa may be father and daughter but they are two different dogs, with different histories, different characters, and different prospects. Keep in mind, too, that dogs are pack animals, and when running in a pack -- which may number as few as two -- they may do things that they would not do alone, or in the company of humans.

News coverage of this case has generated some ugly and irresponsible rhetoric, online and elsewhere. Some people seem to believe that a dog that kills chickens or otherwise hassles livestock will go after children next. In my experience, this is almost never true. I never trusted my Rhodry around chickens or sheep, but when I did errands on Main Street, I'd leave him tied to a bench or a signpost and often I’d come out of the shop to find him schmoozing with admirers of all ages. In the second half of his life Rhodry even helped raise two pairs of kittens, and he'd follow me on horseback through the flock of very bold hens that occasionally wandered loose on the Stoney Hill Road. I had my heart in my mouth and a dog biscuit in my hand, but he never went after those hens.

Till the day he died, though, I could never swear that he'd never again attack a chicken or a cat or any other animal. I can't swear that my six-month-old puppy will never attack chickens or cats or sheep. By training myself and my dog and by exercising sensible precautions, I can greatly reduce the chances that something bad will happen, but I can't reduce the chances to zero. Life isn't like that. In life there is always a chance that something bad will happen. Every time we get into a car, there's a chance that we won't come home again. That doesn't stop us from getting into cars. Your options in Mussa's case are, basically, two. You can greatly reduce the chances that Mussa will do something bad in the future by setting conditions on her owner -- who is already taking steps to do well by her dog -- or you can reduce the chances to zero by killing the dog. If you set conditions and they are not respected, or they prove insufficient, then death is still an option. If the dog is killed, then there are no other options, and we'll never know what kind of dog Mussa might have grown up to be. I hope you will give this dog a chance to grow up and teach her family what they need to know.

 

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