DogTown
Page 1
DOGTOWN
Text copyright © National Geographic Society 2009
Foreword, Introduction copyright © Best Friends Animal Society 2009
ISBN: 978-1-4262-0611-5
The National Geographic Society is one of the world’s largest nonprofit scientific and educational organizations. Founded in 1888 to “increase and diffuse geographic knowledge,” the Society works to inspire people to care about the planet. It reaches more than 325 million people worldwide each month through its official journal, National Geographic, and other magazines; National Geographic Channel; television documentaries; music; radio; films; books; DVDs; maps; exhibitions; school publishing programs; interactive media; and merchandise. National Geographic has funded more than 9,000 scientific research, conservation and exploration projects and supports an education program combating geographic illiteracy.
For more information, please call 1-800-NGS LINE (647-5463) or write to the following address:
National Geographic Society
1145 17th Street N.W.
Washington, D.C. 20036-4688 U.S.A.
Visit us online at www.nationalgeographic.com
For rights or permissions inquiries, please contact National Geographic Books
Subsidiary Rights: ngbookrights@ngs.org
Contents
Foreword by Mickey Rourke
Introduction by Faith Maloney
Chapter 1: Georgia
Chapter 2: Ava
Essay: Becoming a Dog Person, Patti Iampietro, DVM
Chapter 3: Aristotle
Chapter 4: Bingo
Essay: A Is for Atticus, Pat Whitacre
Chapter 5: Parker and Mei Mei
Chapter 6: Annie
Essay: Jenny’s Gift, Sherry Woodard
Chapter 7: Tuffy
Chapter 8: Rush
Essay: Barnum and Sadie, Michelle Besmehn
Chapter 9: Bruno
Essay: Kaiser and Sherman, Jeff Popowich
Chapter 10: Knightly
Chapter 11: Meryl
Essay: Positive Reinforcement, Ann Allums
Chapter 12: Johnny
Chapter 13: Scruffy and Vivian
Essay: Infamous Spikey Doo, John Garcia
Chapter 14: Wiggles
Essay: A Dog for Your Lifestyle, Mike Dix, DVM
Chapter 15: Mister Bones
Acknowledgments
Illustration Credits
Further Resources
Foreword
I raised some eyebrows when I thanked my dogs when I accepted my Golden Globe for Best Actor in The Wrestler. I said, “I’d like to thank all my dogs. The ones that are here, the ones that aren’t here anymore. Because sometimes, when a man’s alone, that’s all you’ve got is your dog. And they’ve meant the world to me.” It was the truth, and I was thanking my best friends.
No bones about it, I am an animal lover, and, more than that, I have been an advocate for animals when they have needed a voice, so I was pleased to have this opportunity to write a few words about Best Friends Animal Society and DogTown. I know from personal experience how much a dog gives and how deeply the bond that they create with us affects our lives and our well being. That’s why it’s truly painful to me to know that millions of beautiful dogs are dying in shelters across the country every year for no good reason.
I believe in second chances, and who deserves a second chance more than a dog who is just down on his or her luck? And of course, that’s what DogTown is all about and why National Geographic’s coverage of Best Friends’ work on television and now in this book is so important.
There are a few very simple things that we can all learn from dogs that would make the world a better place—loyalty, commitment, trust and unembarrassed affection are just a few. If you like dogs, you’ll love DogTown.
Mickey Rourke
Actor and Best Friends Member
Introduction
I will never forget the day when, standing on the porch of the Old Town Hall, one of the buildings at Dogtown, a chink of light shone through my consciousness, and in a flash, I could see Dogtown through the eyes of the dogs. I saw that they had created their own society in spite of our attempts to control every aspect of their lives. It was easy to assume that we humans were calling all the shots. After all, we arranged who lived with whom, what time food appeared, and when cleanup happened. But what became clear to me in that instant was that at Dogtown, dogs rule.
I am one of the co-founders of Best Friends and Dogtown’s first manager. When we were fortunate enough to build our facility in Kanab, Utah, we knew it was a special opportunity to change how dogs were sheltered. Right from the beginning, all of us knew we didn’t want to replicate the concrete-and-wire prisons of traditional shelters at Dogtown. We all had groups of dogs living in our homes, so why not have them live in groups at the sanctuary? As a result, we came up with new building designs to accommodate dogs living in family groups.
I had always been fascinated by the interactions and relationships between dogs. Dogs speak a different language, and it takes a while for people to pick up on the subtleties. But once those of us who started Dogtown got the hang of it, we started to see how they relate to each other, who leads, who follows, who hangs back, and who needs some manners. We had to learn new dog-to-dog introduction skills to keep things peaceful in their groups. And we had to become adept interpreters of this language—for instance, when is a growl a good thing, and when is it a bad thing? When does that bark mean “Hello, let’s play!” or “Get out of my face!”?
We learned that each dog presents a set of behaviors different enough from another to be unique. What works for one dog might not work for another. It’s easy to want to group dogs by breed, by general characteristics, by size, even by color, but if you are around dogs long enough, you get to see that no two dogs are alike. This has kept us on our toes from day one.
And not only do we help the dogs, the dogs teach each other. A frightened dog would arrive, and within a short time he or she would calm down after being around some other residents. I knew that the others passed the word: “They feed you regularly,” “No one yells at you,” and “You get to run around free—no chains here.” We will never know all of the situations dogs have had to deal with in the past, but we know that Dogtown will be a new beginning for each one of them.
Dogtown grew and grew over the years. Residents came and went. Most left to go to new homes, while some lived their whole lives at the sanctuary. The place became a haven for the dogs no one else wanted to deal with for either medical or behavioral reasons. A visiting dog trainer remarked that we had a university here. Because the dogs come from such a wide variety of situations, a student of dogs would have enough material to study for a lifetime.
Indeed, dogs do rule at Dogtown. Being part of their lives is a privilege. Helping to make this a better world for them is an obligation. They deserve the very best from us as we share this time together.
Faith Maloney, Animal Care Consultant
Best Friends Animal Society
Rescued pit bull Georgia cuddles with John Garcia, her trainer at Dogtown.
01
Georgia: A Love Story
John Garcia is under attack. With single-minded focus, a playful, tawny pit bull named Georgia is staging the assault of a thousand licks. She launched the affectionate assault as John, her trainer at Best Friends’ Dogtown, entered her enclosure, and now her wriggling, joyful body pushes its way through the 27-year-old’s upraised forearms to find his face with her warm, wet tongue. Then she playfully pins his arms and licks some more.
“Oh, baby! Oh, darlin’! You’re killin’ me!” John laughs, breathlessly. “Oh, Georgia!” But Georgia does not stop. She seems intent on covering every square inch of John with her
tongue, finding his ears, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. John cannot stop laughing and surrenders to her affection. Victory secured, Georgia joyfully bounds and jumps around him, her body dancing with happiness. It’s plain to see that Georgia and John share a special bond, one that will be crucial in helping her overcome a traumatic past.
Georgia first came to Dogtown in January 2008. She and 21 other dogs were rescued from a large dogfighting operation run by former NFL quarterback Michael Vick. Immediately, the big brown dog’s relationship with John Garcia was special: “From day one, I just absolutely loved Georgia,” John says. And the big dog appeared to return the feeling: People joked that John must have been carrying a pork chop in his pocket, the way Georgia followed him around.
One look at Georgia’s trusting brown eyes reveals just how much John’s affection means to her and what she will do to earn it. This is all the more remarkable considering Georgia’s dark history with people, which is written all over the rest of her body. A network of deep scars crisscrosses her dark muzzle and trail up very close to her alert brown eyes. Her upright triangular ears are cropped short and close to avoid being torn during a fight. The short brown fur on her hindquarters and legs is pockmarked by numerous scars. Her tail had been broken and has healed in a crooked zigzag. The remnants of these old wounds are the legacy of Georgia’s past as a champion dogfighter, a survivor of many bloody encounters.
But the most sinister sign Georgia’s body bears is in her mouth. When she play-smooched John’s face, there was no danger of a bite because she doesn’t have any teeth. Vet techs at Dogtown first theorized that some had been torn out during a fight, but when her jaw was x-rayed, incredibly enough, every tooth turned out to be missing. And they had been pulled out so cleanly that it appeared only a veterinarian could have done the job.
Georgia’s toothless grin is a sign that she was a champion fight dog who then became a champion breeder: Her teeth were pulled so that she could be bred without attacking the male dog. Her sagging belly and teats show that she has borne an enormous number of pups (which may have sold for as much as $10,000 apiece). Her beaten-up body sums up the world Georgia so recently escaped from, where dogs were treated as nothing more than prime meat meant to breed, to fight, and to make money for their owners. Those that didn’t want to fight were simply killed.
But now, with the help of dog trainer John Garcia and the staff and volunteers at Dogtown in the red-rock canyon lands of Utah, Georgia is being given a second chance at life. Here at Best Friends, the largest no-kill animal sanctuary in the United States, this former fighter and breeder has the chance to become a “complete cupcake,” as John describes her. But Georgia’s troubled past may be difficult to escape. Although the exact details of her life as a fighting dog may never be known, the circumstances surrounding her case paint a grim picture.
THE HOUSE ON MOONLIGHT ROAD
Georgia’s story begins in a white house at 1915 Moonlight Road, a lonely country lane in rural Surry County, Virginia, outside the tiny town of Smithfield—tucked away, safe from prying eyes. The house, pale and spectral, was surrounded by a high fence concealing 15 acres of scrubby woods and a network of black-painted buildings behind it.
But on the afternoon of April 25, 2007, a small armada of official-looking vehicles converged on the house. Tipped off in the course of a minor drug bust involving one of the home’s occupants a few days earlier, Surry County animal control officers and police swarmed over the property, where they discovered 66 dogs chained like inmates in dank kennels. Many of the dogs were covered with scars, especially on the muzzle and hindquarters. Inside the house and in the kennels, the police found grim relics of what they quickly concluded was a dogfighting operation, and a large one at that.
Most of the dogs were described as pit bulls. Pit bull is a common name for dogs like Georgia, but it is imprecise. The breeds most commonly referred to as pit bulls are the American Staffordshire terrier (the term used by the American Kennel Club) and the American pit bull terrier (the term used by the United Kennel Club). But “pitties” or other “bully breeds” are often interbred haphazardly to produce animals with massive, muscular forequarters, an enormous head, and powerful jaws. These dogs are very strong, very intelligent, and very loyal; this loyalty and their desire to please their masters has made them the current favorite of illegal dogfighting operations.
In addition to the battle-scarred dogs, investigators discovered more evidence that pointed to the existence of a dogfighting business: They found “rape racks,” crude contraptions used to restrain females for forced breeding; pry bars, used to open the jaws of a dog that has latched on to another; treadmills, used to build up endurance in the dogs; and discarded syringes, for injecting the dogs with steroids and stimulants to jack up their power and aggression. In an upstairs room, the investigators found a blood-spattered fighting pit, where the animals were forced to fight to the death in grim battles that could last as much as two hours.
“These dogs lived very minimal lives,” Surry County Animal Control Officer Bill Brickman, who participated in the raid, said later. “Most of them were kept chained or in cages and released only to train or to fight. We found some places where the dog chains had worn a track in the ground that was six inches deep. These animals were not trained to give love or affection, but only to kill another dog.”
THE DARK WORLD OF DOGFIGHTING
Dogfighting, unfortunately, is not an isolated problem in the United States. At its heart, it is a gambling operation, where spectators typically bet thousands of dollars on a match; because of its covert nature, it also attracts myriad other social problems. For example, at about the same time Vick’s operation was discovered, Texas state police revealed shocking details about dogfighting in rural Texas after a 17-month undercover investigation. Fifty people were indicted and 187 pit bulls confiscated, including a champion female known for ripping off opponents’ genitals. Although some people may imagine dogfighting as a genteel, misunderstood form of blood sport once practiced by the landed gentry, like the running of stags, foxhunting, or cockfighting, what the Texas agents found was anything but.
“It’s like the Saturday night poker game for hardened criminals,” one of the agents told the New York Times. The fights, which drew up to a hundred people, were held in remote places like an abandoned motel in a run-down refinery town, a horse corral in a Houston slum, or a barn at a remote farm. Tens of thousands of dollars were wagered on the fights. Although the illegality of the fights led to their being surreptitious affairs, requiring an invitation, they were amazingly well organized, taking place weekly or semimonthly at eight different locations. The fights attracted not only older, more experienced dogfighters, but also a newer, younger breed of thugs, who participated in drug dealing and gang activity and carried guns. In addition to screaming obscenities at the bloodied pit bulls in the ring, people were observed by agents popping pills and making side deals selling cocaine and firearms and fencing stolen property. Dogfights are not only cruelly abusive to animals; they are also magnets for criminal activity of all kinds.
An aerial view of the Vick property shows the dogs’ pens and doghouses, which had been painted black to avoid detection.
“I believe dogfighting is on the upswing,” John Goodwin, deputy manager of the Animal Cruelty Campaign for the Humane Society, told ESPN. “And I believe that certain elements of pop culture have glamorized dogfighting and glamorized big, tough pit bulls.”
THE CASE AGAINST THE QUARTERBACK
These gruesome, almost medieval, discoveries would have been enough to make statewide news. But the story instantly exploded into national headlines when it became known that the owner of the house on Moonlight Road was Michael Vick, the 27-year-old star quarterback of the Atlanta Falcons.
One of the ten richest athletes in pro sports, Vick came from humble beginnings. He grew up in a public housing project in the tough, crime-ridden East End neighborhood of Newport News, Virginia, an area known in
hip-hop slang as Bad Newz (the dogfighting operation came to be known as Bad Newz Kennels) that was plagued by drive-by shootings and drug dealing. Vick said later that as a kid, “I would go fishing even if the fish weren’t biting, just to get out of there.”
Vick’s athletic talent took him out of the projects and sent him to college at Virginia Tech. After only two years in college, he turned pro, being selected as the first overall pick and the first African-American quarterback ever taken first in the NFL draft. When he signed a $130 million contract with the Atlanta Falcons in 2004, he became the highest-paid player in the NFL.
It would later emerge through the testimony of anonymous cooperating witnesses, though, that Vick was also a star in the dark and savage world of dogfighting, a world filled with blood, violence, and cruelty against creatures who came to him filled only with trust and the desire to please.
At first, Vick professed to know little about the dogs and equipment found at the house on Moonlight Road. He claimed rarely to have been at the house, and said that his cousins and other family members lived there. But as the investigation continued, it became increasingly clear that Vick was very much involved in the brutal business of Bad Newz Kennels. In a damning interview on ESPN, a man who said he’d been fighting dogs for 30 years described Vick as “one of the heavyweights” of the dogfighting world: “He’s a pit bull fighter. He’s one of the ones they call ‘the big boys.’ That’s who bets a large dollar.” The man said Vick would bet as much as $40,000 on a single dogfight.