We’ve begun to take some pretty extreme measures to keep the dogs in line. Our latest innovation involves using the dining room chairs to block their access to the living room sofa when we’re not around.
I really don’t give May enough credit for her problem-solving skills, though. A sideways ottoman and a set of chairs isn’t an obstacle for May. It’s a challenge.
On Thanksgiving, I got to meet these poodle puppies:
If you spread grass seeds in your backyard without first checking to see if any old plush dog toys are still on the ground, you can make your own chia pet.
Also, old plush dog toys that have been laying in the mud since at least August look an awful lot like real animal hides.
Here’s an example of what, to a lawyer, ought to be a patently ridiculous argument, but that also deserves a certain grudging respect for its sheer audacity. This is from a 2009 unpublished decision by the Texas First District Court of Appeals in Houston, Bradley v. Texas:
Appellant, Marcus Andre Bradley, challenges the order of the county court at law denying him the relief that he requested in his application for a writ of habeas corpus. In his sole issue, appellant contends that the State’s prosecution of him for the offense of cruelty to animals, after a justice court had, in a prior proceeding, terminated his ownership of 45 pit bull dogs and ordered him to pay $9,020 to the Houston Humane Society for the boarding and care of the dogs, is barred under the “doctrine[s] of double jeopardy and collateral estoppel.”
We affirm the order of the trial court.
It’s mostly the double jeopardy argument that intrigues me. The Sixth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution says that a person cannot be tried twice for the same offense, but it’s not as simple as it might sound. The government can’t charge you with the same offense if you are acquitted after a trial, or if the case is declared a mistrial after a certain point in the case. That doesn’t apply, though, if one case is criminal and the other isn’t. Continue reading
You may have heard about Arthur, the dog who joined a Swedish adventure racing team during the Adventure Racing World Championship in Ecuador in November.
Via Team Peak Performance/Facebook
Via Team Peak Performance/Facebook
The team has posted updates about Arthur on their Facebook page and elsewhere. Arthur, who is now world-famous, arrived in Sweden on November 20, and the team created the Arthur Foundation to help other dogs like him around the world: Continue reading
A story came out a couple of weeks ago about a recently-deceased woman whose will directs that her dog’s ashes should be mixed with hers and buried with her. The problem, of course, is that her dog is still alive and healthy. Her attorney claims that “the dog has aggression issues that pose a risk to other animals and human handlers,” and that “a veterinarian consulted on the matter recommended that the 105-pound dog be euthanized.” I have no basis for disputing these claims, but it certainly makes the situation simpler than if the dog were both healthy and well-behaved.
Yes, this is blatant emotional manipulation.
The woman lived in Indiana, and the attorney says that he request is not illegal under that state’s law. I’m not sure it would be illegal in Texas, either, but it raises more than a few questions. Euthanasia of pets, a/k/a companion animals, must be performed by a licensed veterinarian or under the supervision of one under most states’ laws (PDF summaries of euthanasia laws are here and here). As far as I know, though, nothing legally obligates a licensed professional to perform euthanasia, especially when the animal is otherwise healthy and not subject to any sort of court order based on aggression. In other words, an executor of a will that requires euthanasia of a pet could be rebuffed by a veterinarian.
This raises the troubling question of whether a person could euthanize a pet, in accordance with someone’s will or for whatever other reason, themselves. I’ll limit myself to Texas’ animal cruelty statute for now, and it seems to leave that possibility open. Section 42.092(b)(1) of the Texas Penal Code states that “[a] person commits an offense if the person intentionally, knowingly, or recklessly…in a cruel manner kills…an animal.” The statute defines “cruel manner” as “a manner that causes or permits unjustified or unwarranted pain or suffering.” Tex. Pen. Code § 42.092(a)(3). The offense is a state jail felony for a first offense, or a third-degree felony for subsequent offenses. The only Texas court decisions that I could find citing that part of the statute involved unambiguously “cruel” treatment of an animal—specifically, setting a bat on fire and beating and stabbing cats to death.
Basically, there is no explicit prohibition under Texas law on a pet owner euthanizing their own pet, provided it is not “cruel.”
On a semi-related note, I learned that it might even be legally permissible under Texas law for a person to kill a dog in a less-than-perfectly-humane manner if it “is attacking, is about to attack, or has recently attacked livestock, domestic animals, or fowls,” provided the person witnessed the attack. I don’t know how you determine that a dog is “about to attack” with legal certainty.
This weekend, Love-A-Bull is celebrating Pit Bull Awareness Day with several events. You can learn more about them at their website.*
The main event is Sunday, October 26 at Republic Square Park in downtown Austin.
Here are some scenes from last year, including the always-effervescent Coco Puffin:
Is it weird that I want the car in this Febreze commercial, which I assume is supposed to represent the exact sort of car we shouldn’t want?
It’s not that I have any great love of dog smell. I think it’s just preferring dogs to anything human.
The Dumb and Dumber car can only dream of being this cool.
