WARNING. The following contains harrowing details which you may find upsetting.
The phone call didn’t bode well. Mr Carter was brief and to the point. His mother-in-law had been admitted to hospital and her hand had just been amputated. The cause was debatable but suspicion had fallen on the family pet, a crossbreed called Micky.
Details were sketchy but this was one that I was eager to avoid as almost certainly this would become a police matter with the resultant complications of court cases, solicitors, emotional family members and police officers.
The obvious problem was that all my natural instincts were that any animal that was a danger to anybody should be subject to full scrutiny and if found to be unstable then the appropriate action needed to be implemented. After all next time, it could be a child.
The counter to this was the fact that maybe the dog was innocent and was in danger of being blamed for something he had not done.
I reluctantly accepted and a visit was arranged.
I usually enjoyed visits to Padstow, it is a unique place and I was very happy to visit on my days off. The circumstances this time held no attraction.
As soon as I arrived I knew that this was not going to be a “run of the mill” job. The house was in a poor state, peeling paint, cracked glass in the windows, the garden overgrown, the whole set-up advertised neglect.
The door was opened by Mrs Carter and revealed a surprisingly clean and tidy interior and I was greeted by a very friendly, tail wagging Micky. Having been subjected to a very effusive welcome, a general all over sniff and being licked by Micky’s tongue I was offered a seat on the very worn sofa.
It was a bizarre contrast, the exterior of the property was in a very poor state of repair and somewhat neglected. The interior was, however, clean, tidy and despite the obvious lack of funds showed that the family had their priorities right and what little they had was spent where it mattered.
An exhaustive question and answer session revealed that Micky had never shown any aggression and his previous behaviour had been faultless. The police, however, were less than convinced and informed the Carters that they would be applying for a destruction order.
The lady in hospital was recovering but was confused and unable or unwilling to shed light on the incident. The surgeon, however, had reported that the injury was consistent with one that he would expect to find after a dog attack.
It became very apparent that my responsibility was to ascertain if Micky had a temperament issue and to argue their case in court as an expert witness. I freely admit the term expert has always caused me some disquiet. In any court case, there can be highly qualified experts for the prosecution and the defence both of whom totally disagree. So much for being an expert! I was, however, a Member of the British Institute of Professional Dog Trainers and therefore my opinion would be of value and given credence by the magistrates.
I gave my rehearsed speech on these matters. Despite my fee being paid by my client, in this case, the Carters, if I found any behaviour problems that could put people or animals at risk then I would not appear for them in court and if I thought it necessary I would report my findings to the police. I would not be willing to hide potentially dangerous issues.
I would only proceed if this was understood and agreed upon in writing.
This may appear harsh as generally, one’s first commitment is to the client, however when there is a risk of serious injury then total transparency must be a priority.
What followed was a comprehensive examination of Micky’s response to stress. I have no doubt that the modern behaviourist has a more scientific approach, particularly when the results were open to being challenged in a court of law but this was the 80s and behaviourism was in its infancy.
I went through my complete list. I started with the obvious, a complete examination as if Micky was at the vets.
I went through the entire repertoire of ears, mouth, paws and tail, I lifted Micky by his scruff. He showed no hostility when I removed his toy from his mouth and he showed no reaction when I took food away. His reaction to noise was negligible. When we went for a walk and Micky was around people his behaviour was excellent. His response to Zena my own German Shepherd Dog was just playful excitability. In fact, Micky didn’t show any fear or aggressive intent throughout the entire procedure I asked the obvious question what about bones?
It transpired that the Carter family were vegetarians so Micky had never been given a bone and therefore no information was forthcoming.
I have to be honest, at this stage I was beginning to think that Micky was innocent of the charges and thought that we should wait and find out what Mr Carter’s mother-in-law had to say. There was in fact only one thing that I had not checked and of course, it could hardly be relevant as the Carter’s were vegetarian.
When I started in this business a very special piece of advice I was given was to take nothing for granted, never assume anything.
As It happened, in my vehicle in which Zena travelled in a large cage the was a Smokey Bone. Very popular at the time. I retrieved the bone from the car tossed it Micky’s direction and went forward to pick it up.
The response from this benign, happy dog was shocking. With no warning, I found myself on the receiving end of full on attack as Micky protected the bone. In those days when I was dealing with dogs with a suspect temperament or assessing a dogs behaviour, it was customary to wear a jacket that had been adapted in such a way as to offer protection by having the sleeves reinforced and padded.
Micky leapt forward at an alarming speed, I just had time to raise my arm to protect myself. Micky clung on. This was a seriously annoyed dog. In the top pocket of my jacket, I carried what was known in those days as a personal protection alarm particularly used by ladies when out by themselves. With my free hand, I was able to use it making a horrendously loud noise guaranteed to attract attention or in my case the screaming sound made Micky release me.
Naturally, the Carter’s were distraught. There were a lot of tears.
A phone call revealed what mother in law had been reluctant to confess, she had been given a large bone by a neighbour and as she had tried to retrieve it the attack occurred. A search of the overgrown garden revealed the partially buried bone.
I contacted the police officer in charge of the case to explain the situation but to no avail. The policeman was adamant. An elderly lady had been attacked resulting in amputation, the dog was unsafe, there was a school in close proximity. There was to be no compromise.
Today Micky might have stood a chance if the Carter’s could have afforded a good solicitor, if behaviourism had been more recognised if the police officer had not been quite so zealous.
But in the final analysis, the public must be protected, particularly children and the Carter’s did have two very young grandchildren.
Difficult discussions then took place as the Carters came to terms with the options available.
I eventually took Micky with me, we drove to Perranporth Beach, we went for a very long walk, Micky paddled in the sea and retrieved his favourite plastic toy. Finally, we went back to the car where I gave Micky 50 milligrams of acetylpromazine (ACP) Micky slowly drifted into a deep sleep. It was a short drive to the veterinary surgeon who had been appraised of the situation and had been in touch with the appropriate police officer. He administered the necessary drug.
My fee was never paid. I did not pursue it
“If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs that I have known will go to heaven and very, very few humans.”
James Thurber
With subtitle or not?