A Hard Lesson Well Learned!

A Hard Lesson Well Learned!

This month’s article involves ongoing legal matters, both civil and criminal, and is therefore necessarily vague in some areas. The objective is not to recount the past but to urge everyone to carefully select their handler after a lengthy investigation and using all available resources.

Sometime on the evening of March 26th, I was awakened by the insistent pinging of my bedside cell phone. A third party whom I didn’t recognize advised me that my Dachshund had been “seized” by the Madison County, Ohio, Sheriff’s Department. The current whereabouts of the dog was unknown, and the unfamiliar do-gooder didn’t provide much help. It was a very long night.

This is a nightmare that you never think is going to happen to you, but it could, and it’s largely preventable. The events that followed were certainly an educational experience for me, and I hope that this article will serve as a vehicle to prevent you and your dogs from encountering the same fate.

Vixen on the Road

It all started when a very close friend of mine offered to help finish Vixen, my Miniature Wirehaired Dachshund bitch who had 14 points, but needed a major. My friend “Doc” owns her sire, and she wanted another Champion notch in her already great stud dog’s belt. Besides that, she’s known for doing nice things for both people and dogs. For my part, I had already given up trying to show my own dogs to their best advantage, leaving it to someone a lot younger. A mutual friend, “Ms. P” (apologies to the Beagle), offered to do the honors for a fee. Doc paid the fee, and Ms. P picked up my dog from me at a match show in New Jersey with the intent to show her at each of the shows in the Louisville cluster where there would be majors.

Vixen was shown on the first day of the cluster and didn’t win. No big surprise there, and a review of the marked catalog looked like a good job of judging. After that, the silence set in. As it turns out, Ms. P returned home due to a somewhat pressing legal matter and left my dog in the care of people still unknown. Vixen did get shown for at least a couple more days, but was also mysteriously absent at times. By Sunday, Ms. P had returned to Louisville to pick up several dogs and, at the same time, temporarily “rehomed” several dogs across state lines to prevent their anticipated seizure by law enforcement.

The Reality of My Missing Dog Sets in

My first challenge was to find out exactly where my dog was, and on the following day, I was able to determine through the news media that Vixen was being held at the county humane society in Ohio. She was to be seen eventually by a veterinarian. All of the dogs removed from the property were being held on the order of the county sheriff as evidence and could not be reclaimed by their owners. There was initial information that the dogs would be held until the legal matters were resolved. We also had to provide both law enforcement and the shelter with multiple documents proving ownership. Orders were also issued to prevent the release or relocation of those dogs that had been moved across state lines.

Of course, it wasn’t long before the news media picked up the story and, in typical fashion, sensationalized the squalid conditions at Ms. P’s residence and the presence of a number of canine cadavers. Photos and video footage confirmed the lurid details. The county sheriff himself went on television to decry the evident abuse. Necropsy showed that two of the dogs died from Parvo, some from other causes, and some were too decomposed for analysis. Parvo, as we know, is insidious, and Ms. P had taken exposed dogs to one of the largest clusters in the country. (None of the seized dogs showed any evidence of the disease at any time.)

One shining light was the local humane society, which is a no-kill shelter staffed by caring volunteers and overseen by a very capable and compassionate director. Although she (the director) could not release the dogs until allowed by law enforcement, she was very good at communicating with me as to Vixen’s status and, when it appeared that the impoundment would continue, she actually granted me visitation rights although they were released before I actually visited. She did the very best for all the dogs and the owners too. The following Monday, the director of the shelter notified me that all the dogs not owned by Ms. P had been released. I immediately headed west, and the following morning picked up Vixen. The dog was visibly traumatized, but appeared healthy and well cared for. I continued down to Kentucky and picked up two dogs that had been relocated by Ms. P to avoid seizure. They, too, were returned immediately to their Long Island owner, a very successful and prominent breeder.

Vixen Makes It Home, but Don’t Make My Mistakes

So, with a week’s worth of heartache and anger, and a few thousand dollars of expense in their recovery, we got our dogs back without any permanent damage. At least they got released before Ms. P got out of jail. The underlying fault, though, was my own. I should have known, and indeed, I had previously been told that conditions and conduct by this person were unacceptable. There was a lot I could have done that might have prevented the whole occurrence. I thought I knew the person through several years of superficial contact. I didn’t.

There are several organizations out there that will help new owners in search of a handler and provide some degree of reassurance that the person to whom you relinquish care of your dogs will keep them safe and honor their professional commitment for which you are paying. Neither of them is perfect, nor do they relieve you of the responsibility of making sure for yourself.

Use PHA & AKC Tools and Your Smarts

The Professional Handlers Association (PHA) was founded in 1926 by handlers, for handlers, and out of a sense of pride in their profession. In the 1960s, the AKC (American Kennel Club) began to license Professional Handlers, and the organizations co-existed. The AKC license was extended on a Breed-by-Breed, Group-by-Group basis, and you were not allowed to accept money for handling unless you were specifically licensed for that breed. I was happy to be an AKC licensed Professional Handler, but the real pride was in wearing that small piece of metal that is the PHA emblem. It wasn’t mandatory. Still isn’t. But it does reflect an acceptance by your peers and THAT is about as good as it gets.

Paul Clas, the PHA’s Vice President, took a few minutes to explain to me what the organization is doing to prevent situations such as mine. To begin, they require three letters of recommendation. Easy enough, but they also require photos of your kennel facilities and may conduct a kennel visit. They inspect the applicant’s vehicle, and they require “care custody and control” insurance for the benefit of the handler’s clients in the event of a mishap. The PHA accepts, and its Board of Directors reviews, complaints regarding its members. They don’t outright decline many applicants, but they do work with newbies to bring their facilities and qualifications up to acceptable standards. For its part, AKC was compelled to give up the formal licensing of handlers as a result of litigation filed by one disgruntled handler. After some years of generalized mayhem, AKC instituted its Registered Handlers Program (RHP) in 2001. Tim Thomas, now AKC Vice President, Judging Operations, reviewed the program’s requirements for voluntary membership. In general, the requisites are identical to the PHA. AKC has a separate Code of Ethics which members sign and abide by. Facilities and insurance are important, and they are subject to unannounced kennel visits by the same AKC staff that inspects breeders. More recently, they are required to complete the Darkness to Light course to help prevent abuse.

The AKC RHP is administered in part by AKC field staff, each of them a former, well-respected Professional Handler. They are on site at shows. They are well versed in every aspect of handling and dog care, and they have the show situation pretty well in hand. It’s the after-hours stuff that they don’t encounter as often.

Now, if you think that by describing these groups I’m showing favoritism, get over it. (Once in a while, the Professional Handler actually has the better dog). Many good dogs and great dogs can be found on the leads of Owner Handlers as well as those paid to do the job. I’m very happy to put up either. Both Paul and Tim go to great lengths to advise that the dog owner searching for a handler can and should do their homework. There are many honest, hardworking, and very well-qualified people who are “part time” Professional Handlers like I once was. I can name a dozen without trying. The obligation, though, is on the client to watch, observe, ask, visit, and otherwise investigate the person to whom you are going to entrust your dog. A casual acquaintance, even a friendship of some duration, just isn’t enough. Tim Thomas, a former handler himself, suggests watching what time your future handler arrives and departs from shows, what they do in preparation for the ring, and observe the care regimen for the dogs during the off hours. Visit their kennel. It doesn’t have to be fancy; it does have to be clean and safe. Talk to current folks who have that person handle for them.

Experience Counts

The AKC requires at least seven years of handling experience before acceptance into the RHP. Some folks get that through a registered apprenticeship. Some go the way I did and work with “A-list” handlers as their temporary assistants, or fill in for them in the case of conflicts. Handling ability matters, of course, but it’s the stuff you can’t see that should be of the most importance. There are lots of conscientious, talented, and eager young people out there earning their wings who deserve your consideration.

But even with the best, most credentialed handlers things can go wrong. Now might be a good time to consider what you would do if you were forced to prove ownership of a dog in order to recover it. Sure, my dogs are microchipped—well, most of them anyway. Some have chips from Canada and even Sweden, both are virtually worthless unless reregistered with an American company. AKC registration papers? Also, pretty much worthless in court, but they did help a bit in my own case. The clincher was a photograph of Vixen with a litter. A contract of sale complete with valid microchip number works pretty well too. At the very least, you may want to review your chip numbers and update the information on file with the recording agencies.

So, here’s my advice, learned in the school of bad experience and passed on in the hope that you might avoid similar problems:

• Read, confirm, review, and reregister every single one of your microchip numbers. Chips shift, registries go out of business, and there are always mistakes. Most registries, for a small fee, will reregister chips from others. Do it!
• Be sure that you can legally prove ownership, above and beyond AKC “papers” in the event you need to recover your dog or dogs. Photos with you or the dog with a litter can serve as evidence.
• Follow the lead of the pros, like PHA and AKC RHP, and thoroughly investigate any person to whom you are going to entrust your dog. Don’t be polite… a truly good handler will acknowledge and appreciate your efforts.
• A good shelter (and most of them are) is your best asset in the recovery of an impounded animal. Communicate with them politely and frequently. Ask to visit the animal. Let them know how important the animal is to you and how valuable it is.
• Listen and heed advice given to you by those who have had experience. Your “gut reaction” and desire to give everybody a chance can be disastrous. You don’t have to believe everything you hear, but you owe it to your dog to check it out.
• If the worst happens, make sure that local law enforcement is fully involved. There is a system, and although it’s far from perfect you will get further by cooperating and communicating than you will by trying to force the issue.
• In this, as in most other life events, communication is the key—by e-mail, by telephone, by Zoom, by letter, or even in person. Communicate politely, forcefully, and often.