Reading an item in today’s paper was salt in a fresh wound. Seems that dogs in my neighborhood are fair game for animal control officers, who now have the authority to shoot them. Thanks to Lexington County Council’s recent revision of law, “nuisance dogs” may be shot after other methods of trapping them fail.

This news pains me deeply. As an animal lover and passionate vegetarian, I already find it hard to live in a place where hunting is glorified and animal welfare is so low on our list of priorities. But this license to shoot dogs is shocking.

I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Ours is a culture that buys into property rights in a big way, which in turn feeds a mindset that dominion and ownership afford the powerful the right to control the powerless. It is how, I believe, we tolerate such high rates of domestic violence and child abuse. Small wonder we are also the home to organized fighting using dogs, hogs and gamecocks. Violence isn’t just accepted, it’s entertainment.

The fresh wound? It happened Sunday. I was out running in the woods near my home when I came across a dog that was severely malnourished and appeared to have been on his own for way too long. He wouldn’t let me touch him, but I coaxed him to follow me back to the house, where I gave him food and water. After several hours of working to get him to trust me, I was able to get close enough to read the tag on his collar.

I left a message for the owner, Pierre Lybrand, who called back and said he was on his way to retrieve the dog. He said he’d just gotten out of church. But what I’d thought would be a happy reunion turned ugly after the man showed up. The dog cowered when approached, and Pierre ended up dragging him to the truck and throwing him into a cage in back.

When I asked how long the dog had been missing, he said “since yesterday.” That’s when I lost it, and threatened to call the Humane Society. He said, “He’s a hunting dog,” as if that explained the clear neglect. “I’ve got 12 dogs. Go ahead and call them.”

I knew I wouldn’t. The dogs would be removed and euthanized. I couldn’t do it.

So instead I’m left with a profound sense of guilt and sadness, wondering if I did the right thing. I can’t shake the look in those eyes as the dog was hauled off, back to his life of abuse. God bless him. And God help the rest of us.

Becci Robbins