Her Name Was Batman

It was a routine call, the kind we get everyday. Dog chained up outside, not being cared for. The Animal Control officer responded, and wove his way through the toys cluttering the front yard. A knock on the door was answered by a young teenager, who obliged the officer by taking him around to the back of the house to check on the dog. The back yard was as unorganized as the front, and in the middle was the domain of the dog. Heavy link chain, knotted due to the lack of a swivel, a ramshackle dog house, overturned dishes, and one very exuberant, adolescent Shepherd type dog eagerly awaiting some human companionship.

The dog was on the gaunt side, and the teen proudly explained that she had had pups a little while back and had lost some weight while caring for them. One rear leg was badly swollen and the dog was bearing no weight on it. When questioned of this, the teen shrugged and said the dog had been hit by a car earlier in the week and he thought it was sprained. The Officer left a notice for the parents to get in touch with the office.

A review of the address turned up no license or rabies vaccination for that house. Previous complaints had been filed, but all on different types of dogs. When the owner finally called, she advised that the dog had never been to vet. As for the leg, she would 'wait and see if it got better'. The owner was told that immediate veterinary care was needed for the leg, and she would be required to vaccinate and license the dog within ten days. The phone conversation ended on a less than civil note.

Five minutes before closing, I took a call from an owner requesting we pick up their dog for euthanasia. Imagine my shock when the address given was the same as the injured dog my officer had responded to earlier. The owner said they could not afford to have the leg checked, and did not wish to be bothered with the dog any longer. I dispatched the night officer to pick up the dog and began my overtime wait for the dog to come in for euthanasia.

It is little condolence that I ended Batman's pain that night. I know this family will not remain without a dog and it makes for many sleepless nights worrying about the next canine companion they acquire. In a way, this dog was the lucky one. She only had to suffer this home for a year. The next dog may live like this for many years and it grieves me tremendously to know that so many people would willingly offer their puppies and dogs to homes like this.

As the sodium pentobarbital did it's job, the final words of the owner made me shudder. "Sure wish we'd of kept one of them pups."