|
Some
people never give up, which is good news for dogs.
By this
summer, construction should be complete on Gallatin County's first
animal shelter. Strays no longer will be shipped to neighboring
Henry County, where "euthanasia" means a gunshot to the head.
"I am
so thrilled," says Jean Allen, a dog groomer who has lived in
Gallatin, home of the Kentucky Speedway, for 18 years. "To be
honest, this was one of my main goals ever since I moved here."
Ms.
Allen belongs to the Gallatin County Humane Society, whose membership
hovers around eight people. That's typical.
Across
Kentucky, a handful of folks have refused to settle for the state's
tradition of squalid dog pounds run by untrained wardens.
Some
are tenacious, no-nonsense women living in rural counties, where they
raise money for animal care by selling $6 tickets to spaghetti
dinners. Others are professionally trained animal-control
officials--yes, a few counties have them--who every year lobby the
legislature for change.
Also in
the mix is Randy Skaggs, who runs a non-profit shelter in Elliott
County. He collected data on every county in the state, then
sued 70 of them in 2000 for failing to provide even the minimal animal
control required by law.
The
counties are now off the hook. A Circuit Court judge in Franklin
County ruled they could not be sued as a group. But the state's
Frankfort-based Agriculture Department is still fighting the suit,
which alleges it has failed to enforce the state's dog-licensing law.
$1.50 fee mostly ignored
I had
to chuckle over the recent increase in Hamilton County's dog-license
fee, from $9 to $14 a year. Commissioners ought to try running
animal-control in Kentucky, where the fee has been $1.50 since 1954.
|
Most
dog owners ignore the charge, and politicians are loathe to raise it.
So they pretend a couple of cages in someone's backyard is a shelter,
while virtually ignoring the public-health threat posed by strays.
Gallatin County got lucky. Besides the steady pressure for
change, it has benefited from a surprising source. A sympathetic
politician named Kenny McFarland.
"If it
weren't for him, we wouldn't have a shelter," says humane society
member Sandy Brown.
A
.22 solution
For
years, Gallatin has paid Henry County to take in strays, which were
dispatched with a .22-caliber bullet to the back of the head.
Working
with Gallatin's dog catcher, humane society members tried to find
alternatives for salvageable dogs. Ms. Brown has taken in 45
cats, including two kittens left on her porch by the dogcatcher.
"I just
can't stand to see animals mistreated," she says.
Finally, in 2000, the General Assembly designated $1 million to help
counties build proper shelters. Gallatin received $50,000.
Mr.
McFarland, a building contractor, donated land for the shelter and
volunteered his services to build it. He hopes it will attract
youngsters interested in animal-related careers, and maybe a
veterinarian in need of office space.
Plus,
"I like animals," he says.
That's
a good quality in a politician. We need more of them.
Maybe then, more local governments in Kentucky would fulfill their
basic responsibility to deal with animal problems.
Go to Article
|
