The government’s cooperating witnesses painted a much grimmer picture. In one case, a witness said Bad Newz Kennels put up a female pit bull against a dog from New York. After Vick’s dog was defeated, she was taken outside and shot. Later, when another of Vick’s dogs lost a match in which the purse was $26,000, the dog was electrocuted. Nonperforming or unaggressive dogs had apparently been hanged, drowned, electrocuted, shot, or slammed into the ground until dead. When authorities raided the residence, the remains of eight dogs were found buried in a shallow grave behind the house.
This “culling” of nonaggressive animals is a kind of sadistic Darwinism, meant to select only traits that lead to savage victory in the dog pit. Dogs who don’t want to fight are used as bait dogs, killed, or abandoned to the streets, where they end up in already overcrowded shelters. (In fact, Best Friends estimates that more “bully breed” dogs—pit bulls and their kin—are euthanized in shelters than any other breed.)
Whether helping someone recover from an emotional accident or visiting the elderly, pit bulls are making their mark as outstanding therapy dogs.
In July 2007, Vick and three other men were indicted by a federal grand jury on charges of conspiring “to travel in interstate commerce in aid of unlawful activities and to sponsor a dog in an animal fighting venture”—a felony. In August Vick pleaded guilty and admitted to operating an interstate dogfighting ring, financing the operation, and participating directly in some dogfights himself. He also admitted that he knew some of the other participants had killed several underperforming dogs but denied killing any dogs himself. (In the end, Vick also admitted that “collective efforts” by him and two others resulted in the deaths of at least six dogs, by being hanged, drowned, or slammed to the ground.) He apologized to the NFL, his fans, and his teammates. The only ones to whom he did not apologize were his victims, the dogs.
The lawyer for one of Vick’s co-defendants, Quanis Phillips, tried to soft-pedal the charges by making the argument that his client came from a culture in which dogfighting was an acknowledged sport. It was, he said, a way for young men to prove their virility, adding that “dogfighting was an accepted and acceptable activity in their world.” And when Phillips’s friend Michael Vick signed a lavish NFL contract, suddenly they had plenty of money to buy, train, and bet on dogs.
But U.S. District Judge Henry Hudson would have none of this argument. He sentenced Phillips to 21 months in federal prison followed by three years of supervised probation, a term considerably higher than the recommended sentencing guidelines. “You may have thought this was sporting, but it was very callous and cruel,” the judge said. “I hope you understand that now.”
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.”
Dogtown trainer John Garcia holds the Guinness World Record for most dogs walked on leash at one time by one person. He succeeded in walking 25 dogs for 1 kilometer, and 22 dogs for an entire mile, in 2005.
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.
In the first half of the 20th century, pit bulls—like Pete the Pup from the Our Gang movie series—were considered ideal family pets.
As John and the rest of the team first observed the Vick dogs, it quickly became obvious that few had ever been walked on a leash, much less washed, groomed, or shown large amounts of human affection. In effect, they had been living in something like solitary confinement, through no fault of their own. Such undersocialization had left the majority of them full of fear and anxiety.
As a group, the dogs were “incredibly shut down and traumatized,” John said. Some also demonstrated what he called “fear-based aggression,” meaning that their belligerence was largely rooted in their sense of fear and anxiety. In short, they were scary because they were scared. They also demonstrated almost no socialization with other dogs. They’d been kept on chains or in kennels, apart from all other dogs, trained only to fight other dogs to stay alive. They were neglected, abused, brutalized animals forced to express only a narrow range of “emotion”: ferocity and aggression.
Even so, John said, “Dogs are very resilient—way more resilient than humans. I’ve seen dogs that have come through horrendous experiences, from the dog pit to the war in Lebanon, but if you give them food, water, shelter, and love, they’ll do anything for you. They just seem to be able to get over things. People give up much more easily. But dogs can be tied up on a chain their whole life, and still be trusting and willing to please.”
Dogfighting is illegal in all 50 states, and it carries a felony sentence in almost every state.
Like many a good love story, John and Georgia’s began at first sight. As
John observed the 22 dogs, making initial assessments of their behavior and personalities, his heart went out to all of them. But when he first saw the tawny brown female with the dark muzzle and white blaze on her chest, he took a shine to her immediately. But she played hard to get: John entered her enclosure, only to find Georgia aloof and distant. At first, she pretended not to notice him at all, as if she were so highborn that this lowly peasant was invisible. (John later nicknamed her the Diva.) But then their eyes met, and it was all over for both of them.
“And, I swear, it was like my heart just melted,” John recalled. Even though he was there to conduct an assessment—and thus was being only a neutral observer of the dog’s behavior—he couldn’t resist reaching down and scratching Georgia behind her short, cropped ears. The big brown dog looked up at him with her warm brown eyes. Then she rolled onto her back with her paws in the air and presented her belly for more.
But Georgia’s affectionate demeanor masked problems that would threaten her chances of finding a forever home. She displayed severe aggression toward other dogs, which was probably caused by her past status as a champion fighter. Georgia literally had had to fight other dogs for her very life, and working through that trauma could prove difficult. Georgia also showed signs of food aggression, a form of behavior in which a dog will growl, snarl, and eventually bite to protect its food. She also displayed some problems with handling and would need to learn to walk on a leash. But Georgia’s love for John could be her salvation if it could motivate her enough so that these problems could be solved.
The Dogtown team spent several weeks in Virginia to continue to get to know each of the 22 dogs. The extra time helped give them a deeper sense of the dogs’ personalities and problems, while creating a bond that would help ease the dogs’ transitions when they were transported to their new homes in Utah. This remarkable group of survivors demonstrated the tremendous heart and soul of a dog. At Best Friends, they would come to be known as the Vicktory Dogs, as a nod to both their past and the happier, healthier life that awaited them at Dogtown.
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