Defining "Humane"

    "Why is a noble hound over yonder on a manure heap . . .?
     "If he were what he was when Odysseus left for Troy he would soon show you what he could do. There was not a wild beast in the forest that could get away from him . . . But he has fallen on evil times . . . for his master is gone."   Homer, The Odyssey.

     Tonka and several other dogs were accepted by the Humane Society of Sarasota County in July 2012, transferred from Sarasota County Animal Services whose kennels were at that moment full. She had been picked up as a stray and was perhaps 14 months old. Today Tonka is 2 and a half years and has been in the shelter for over a year. There has been a concerted effort by HSSC staff and volunteers to make her a "good citizen" and have her adopted by a "qualified" person. She needs special handling at all times. Tonka's bred is matter of debate. She is almost 50 pounds, short haired, beige with a white stomach and a dab on each paw. Her eyes are yellow and nose skin is pinkish. Tonka is listed as a Pit Bull Terrier mix. If you Google search "Pit Bull Terrier" the pictures that appear are distant relatives of Tonka. Now Google search "Thai Ridgeback" - what appear are her close cousins. She has the ears and body structure but is missing the hairy ridge down her spine that also distinguishes TRs. In its place is a 2 inch scar and a line of seven white spots. (Tonka does have distinctive ridges running down the back of her hind legs.) If Tonka is a TR mix she is something special - there are only a couple of hundred TRs in the United States. It is also a source of Tonka's problems. TRs are not fully domesticated - perhaps 80% of the way. At HSSC there are two outstanding animal behaviorists - one believes Tonka is a Thai Ridgeback mix and one does not.
     As Tonka's stay at the shelter continued I became more involved with her. The past several months I have worked with her 3 or 4 times a week. We have become close friends. On Wednesdays and Fridays Tonka would jump into the back of my car, put her front paws on the console between the front seats and slather my face. As the car began to move she would get down and lay on the floor in the back. We would ride to Sarasota's Bay Front Park and walk. Our other destination was often the path around Dead Man's Lake in the Meadows. We also patrolled the HSSC neighborhood between 12th and 17th Streets. The objective of our outings was to get Tonka to relax and control herself when surrounded by distractions. She needed exposure to people, traffic and noise. She behaved best walking 17th and 12th streets - much traffic - she would walk by my leg, ears and tail down and the leash loose. On the path in the Meadows she was OK requiring snacks when sighting other walkers. For strange dogs she would bark and rear up ready to engage - I would reverse course.
The Bay Front had the most distractions, people, children, fountains, dogs, boats and Tonka wished to investigate everything. I could keep her under control and concentrating on me with snacks - sometimes - but frequently my only recourse was outright retreat. Eventually we walked along the Bay only where there were no people. It also occurred to me when Tonka was raging and I was working to reestablish control - what would happen if at that instant I was struck by a meteor or had a stroke - who would get hurt? At the end of each walk I would find a bench with a panoramic view - sail boats, sun and sea. Tonka would jump up next to me, sit and shoulder to shoulder we would share snacks and a bottle of water. Tonka is a wonderful, affectionate and gentle dog.
     Tonka bit the Vet Technician. She did not draw blood. But when combined with her aggressive behavior she was deemed too dangerous to be adopted out by HSSC. Furthermore staff is not expected to accept dog bites as a condition of employment. So Tonka has fallen on evil times. She has not found a master. Adoption by me is not an option because of condo regulations and other reasons. So Tonka must be either euthanized or moved from the HSSC "shelter" to a "refuge" where no animal is terminated - assuming one can be found with a vacant cage. Animals can be adopted from a refuge under strict conditions. But most dogs are warehoused for the duration of their lives.
     Thoroughly depressed I went to HSSC to learn of Tonka's fate. In her old cage was a new dog. Waiting for a meeting I took Walker, a happy, young hound out to get some exercise. In the yard I exchanged greetings with another coach. The sound of my voice was met with a loud eruption of mournful cries from the back of the building. Tonka was still on campus in an isolation cage in Pod 3.
She had heard me and the wailing continued until I secured permission and took her out of the cage. Then we hugged.
     So distinguished reader - you decide what should happen to Tonka - which would be more "humane"? Should Tonka be "put down" or should she be "caged" for life? What you decide is the way this piece ends.

    

Ancient Incidents - Hartwick College in the USSR

 

     We walked past the headquarters of Gosplan, the Soviet State Planning Agency, on the way to the auditorium in downtown Moscow. (1980s) My college group consisted of about 25 individuals. Already seated were another 50-60 students and faculty from Penn State. We were there to have a frank and friendly exchange of views with Soviet officials from an unnamed agency. Three men were seated on the stage ready to receive questions. The first came from Penn State students. "How many people did Stalin murder?" No response from the stage. "Will the Soviet Union ever have free elections?" The panelists neither responded or even moved. With the third question "How many people are in the slave labor camps?" I concluded that this session would be a tedious waste of time. The next question came from a Hartwick student. To reconstruct from a flagging memory, Wayne, a first year student asked; "Considering the incredible number of things a highly developed nation produces, is it realistic to have a state agency (i.e. Gosplan) trying to determine quantities to be produced and how much goods will cost? Isn't a market economy absolutely necessary?" The Soviet officials smiled and became animated - each wanted to respond. Perhaps I am overstating but my heart leap with joy. A provocative and intelligent question - those that wished to learn via a dialogue with the Soviets were now engaged. The questions that followed were all designed to challenge, elicit information and demonstrate a knowledge of the USSR - equal to Wayne's.

     Volgograd had a reputation in the 1980s as home to a "conservative" KGB establishment. So I was surprised when my Hartwick group was invited by a local university literary group to meet one evening at the local Palace of Culture. (Once in Tbilisi, Georgia my group was invited to a similar gathering one morning and dis invited that same afternoon.) The meeting was pleasant - I wandered around watching young men and women mixing. The Russians all spoke some English and could practice it and also learn American. In one brief discussion with three Russian young women I responded to a question by precisely quoting Lenin. One responded with "Mein Gott !" which I believe is German. It was also a conversation stopper that I regretted.

     The following day I was again surprised to be informed by Jennifer (not my daughter) and two other students that they had invited the Russian students to our Hotel for a return party the following evening. I knew Jennifer was intelligent and now added "organizer" to her characteristics. We were housed in the old Hotel Intourist. (It was just around the corner from the department store that was the Stalingrad HGQ for the doomed German 6th Army.) On the fifth floor of the Hotel was a buffet with a short steam line, a few tables and when serving, staffed by three older women. The party at the buffet went off as scheduled without incident or interference - my impression was that the authorities had cut my group and their young people some slack. At 10:00 PM the buffet area was also a mess - snack wrappers, mineral water and vodka bottles, cigarette butts overwhelming ashtrays. I thought of the servers arriving to see this chaos and felt sorry for them. I also anticipated catching some hell from the Hotel administration. Then Jennifer reappeared. "Professor - I know what you are thinking - we'll take care of it." She smiled and left. So I added "clairvoyant" and "takes charge" to her personal characteristics. Happily I returned to my room. At about 7:30 AM I visited the buffet - the servers were fulfilling their duties - one guest was having tea - and the area was immaculately clean.

    Czechoslovakian Soviet Socialist Republic (1977). Customs Control had finished inspecting our train and we were now rolling through morning darkness in Austria. I lay on a lower "couchette" - in the couchette above was an alpha student with a tremendous sense of humor - Michael. My first experience taking a group of college students to the USSR was over and I was near giddy with relief. Yes, there had been problems and stress. Three days ago as our train departed Leningrad, Michael casually put his passport down in another cabin and it disappeared. We reported the theft, he was questioned, searched and of course had to surrender various parts of Soviet military uniforms he had illegally secured on the black market. No passport, no souvenirs and now the prospect of an enforced stay at the Czech border awaiting a new passport. His mood was a mix of high anxiety and profound loss. Today at the border security personnel in jumpsuits holding screwdrivers had literally disassembled the cabin where his document vanished. They found the passport stuffed up behind a petition and held two passengers for questioning. But that was then - now we were out from behind the Iron Curtain and moving rapidly towards Vienna.

     The train began to slow and then lurched to a hard stop. I heard running through the carriage aisle. The cabin door flew open and the light snapped on. Close to my nose the barrel of an assault rifle held by a soldier topped with a scarlet beret. Aroused irritable from what must have been refreshing sleep, Michael yelled "Turn off that light !" I responded "Mike shut up!"

Michael then noted the presence of the armed intruder. "Ohhh. OK!" The light went out and door closed. But no sleep for me - time instead to watch a dawn brighten and illuminate the Austrian countryside.

                                                      

 

Captain "This is my ball. I don't trust you. But if you have some chew toys perhaps we can play!"