Important DMN Article Relating to Proposed Dallas Animal Code. Cross Post Okay

May 3, 2008

Last Monday, hunters and backyard breeders were out in droves to oppose the proposed animal friendly ordinances at the City of Dallas Quality of Life meeting. By the grace of God and the forces of reason, we won that round, but just barely. In June, 2008, phone calls and emails supporting the pending Dallas Animal Code will be desperately needed. I'll do my best to notify everyone when your support will mean so much to the animals of Dallas.The below column published 5/1/08 in the DMN shows why we must pass this proposed code into law and make spay/neuter mandatory in Dallas. I hope you read the entire article. Thank you. Margarethttp://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/localnews/columnists/sblow/stories/DN-blow_01met.ART0.North.Edition1.45f579f.html -For Dallas' unwanted pets, death awaits near the back door 07:53 AM CDT on Thursday, May 1, 2008 Paul Curington loves to see animals go out the front door. And by that he simply means "alive." Sadly, the vast majority go out the back door. Paul is interim manager of Dallas Animal Services and Adoption Center. And a backdoor visit to the city's new animal shelter erases any doubt about the need for a stronger pet ordinance. Up front, the new shelter at Interstate 30 and Westmoreland Road is bright and cheery, part of the city's effort to encourage more pet adoptions from its never-ending supply. But it's in a small, sterile room in back that most of the city's stray and unwanted animals are dealt with – needle stick after needle stick, 80 to 100 times a day. The two shelter workers with euthanasia duty on Wednesday didn't want their names used. The man explained, "People hear of euthanasia and even though it means 'good death,' they react differently. I don't want anyone calling me 'dog killer.' " The woman nodded in

agreement. She was gently petting, almost cuddling, a cowering, malnourished street dog of medium size atop a stainless steel table. It was obvious from the dog's swollen teats that she had delivered puppies in the last few weeks. No telling where. The dog leaned against the woman, its sad brown eyes cast downward. "It's hard," she said, "but it has to be done." It has to be done only because of the neglect of so many pet owners. They don't get their animals spayed or neutered. They let them run loose. They dump them when they become inconvenient. "Nobody here wants to do this job," Paul had told me earlier. "But we're here because someone has been irresponsible, and we're having to take up the slack." About 29,000 times a year, they have to take up the slack. And now it's the brown mama dog's turn. The man

injects her first in the rump with a tranquilizer. She's so docile it's not really necessary. As the woman continues to caress her, the man slips a cloth muzzle over her snout and shaves hair from a spot on her foreleg to reveal a vein. The man fills a syringe from a bottle of bright-blue liquid. The brand name on the bottle: "Fatal-Plus." It's sodium pentobarbital, and the city buys it by the case. Working quickly and methodically, the man injects the blue juice into the mama dog's leg. Almost instantly, she goes limp in the woman's arms, eyes open but empty. They check – no heartbeat – and slide the dog into a black plastic trash bag. Then the bag goes into a rolling trash cart at the end of the table. The woman steps outside the door to a bank of holding cages and leads in a black-and-tan mutt with eager eyes and a wagging tail. The procedure starts all over again ... To make it easier on the shelter staff, this is duty they pull only about once a week. But all senior-level workers are expected to take their turn in the "euthanasia lab," as it's called. Soon the black-and-tan dog has taken its place in the rolling trash cart. When it's full, the cart will be rolled into an adjoining refrigerated room. A second door in the cooler leads out onto the loading dock. Two or three times a day, a truck from the city's sanitation department arrives. And, another load of dogs and cats leaves by the backdoor route. They are carried to the landfill to be buried with the rest of the city's trash.

Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Mobile. Try it now.

May 7, 2008

I noticed that one of the council women, Elsa I think, pointed out that those opposed came from outside the city while those who supported the measure actually live within the Dallas City limits Margaret Morin <dogs_good wrote: Last Monday, hunters and backyard breeders were out in droves to oppose the proposed animal friendly ordinances at the City of Dallas Quality of Life meeting. By the grace of God and the forces of reason, we won that round, but just barely. In June, 2008, phone calls and emails

supporting the pending Dallas Animal Code will be desperately needed. I'll do my best to notify everyone when your support will mean so much to the animals of Dallas.The below column published 5/1/08 in the DMN shows why we must pass this proposed code into law and make spay/neuter mandatory in Dallas. I hope you read the entire article. Thank you. Margaret http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/localnews/columnists/sblow/stories/DN-blow_01met.ART0.North.Edition1.45f579f.html - For Dallas' unwanted pets, death awaits near the back door 07:53 AM CDT on Thursday, May 1, 2008 Paul Curington loves to see animals go out the front door. And by that he simply means "alive." Sadly, the vast majority go out the back door. Paul is interim manager of Dallas Animal Services and Adoption Center. And a backdoor visit to the city's new animal shelter erases

any doubt about the need for a stronger pet ordinance. Up front, the new shelter at Interstate 30 and Westmoreland Road is bright and cheery, part of the city's effort to encourage more pet adoptions from its never-ending supply. But it's in a small, sterile room in back that most of the city's stray and unwanted animals are dealt with – needle stick after needle stick, 80 to 100 times a day. The two shelter workers with euthanasia duty on Wednesday didn't want their names used. The man explained, "People hear of euthanasia and even though it means 'good death,' they react differently. I don't want anyone calling me 'dog killer.' " The woman nodded in agreement. She was gently petting, almost cuddling, a cowering, malnourished street dog of medium size atop a stainless steel table. It was obvious from the dog's swollen teats that she had delivered puppies in the

last few weeks. No telling where. The dog leaned against the woman, its sad brown eyes cast downward. "It's hard," she said, "but it has to be done." It has to be done only because of the neglect of so many pet owners. They don't get their animals spayed or neutered. They let them run loose. They dump them when they become inconvenient. "Nobody here wants to do this job," Paul had told me earlier. "But we're here because someone has been irresponsible, and we're having to take up the slack." About 29,000 times a year, they have to take up the slack. And now it's the brown mama dog's turn. The man injects her first in the rump with a tranquilizer. She's so docile it's not really necessary. As the woman continues to caress her, the man slips a cloth muzzle over her snout and shaves hair from a spot on her foreleg to reveal a vein. The

man fills a syringe from a bottle of bright-blue liquid. The brand name on the bottle: "Fatal-Plus." It's sodium pentobarbital, and the city buys it by the case. Working quickly and methodically, the man injects the blue juice into the mama dog's leg. Almost instantly, she goes limp in the woman's arms, eyes open but empty. They check – no heartbeat – and slide the dog into a black plastic trash bag. Then the bag goes into a rolling trash cart at the end of the table. The woman steps outside the door to a bank of holding cages and leads in a black-and-tan mutt with eager eyes and a wagging tail. The procedure starts all over again ... To make it easier on the shelter staff, this is duty they pull only about once a week. But all senior-level workers are expected to take their turn in the "euthanasia lab," as it's called. Soon the black-and-tan dog has taken

its place in the rolling trash cart. When it's full, the cart will be rolled into an adjoining refrigerated room. A second door in the cooler leads out onto the loading dock. Two or three times a day, a truck from the city's sanitation department arrives. And, another load of dogs and cats leaves by the backdoor route. They are carried to the landfill to be buried with the rest of the city's trash. Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Mobile. Try it now. 'Do what thou wilt, but harm none'. Each individual is responsible for discovering his or her own true nature and developing it fully, in harmony with the outer world.

Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Mobile. Try it now.