A year and a half had passed since Gracie had begun her new life. Emotionally she was transformed, thoroughly acclimated to living with a family. She was loving and sweet-natured, almost serene at times, as if somehow she’d been able to erase the memories of those first six years. Her bond with Linda was closer than ever. The only thing missing was a canine companion—not just for Gracie, but for Julia, too. Julia still yearned for a dog of her own. Gracie clung so steadfastly to Linda that the kids felt a little left out. There was a time when Linda would have preferred a puppy over an older dog. But what better solution than to give another breeding dog the chance to be just a pet?
She began combing Cavalier rescue sites on the Internet, but none of the groups responded to her inquiries. Then a stylist at her hair salon overheard her talking one day and told her about a Cavalier kennel in Frystown. The owner had a breeding dog she was looking to get rid of, the stylist said. She insisted the kennel was not a puppy mill.
Linda contacted the woman. The dog she had for sale was three years old and had produced three litters. The woman did not intend to breed her again. They haggled over a price. The breeder wanted $800; Linda countered with $500. The breeder asked if Linda had a fenced-in yard—her dogs were accustomed to running freely outside, she said. Linda’s yard wasn’t fenced, but the new dog would have a playmate in Gracie. And she agreed to sign papers promising to have the dog spayed. They agreed on the terms.
Jackie resembled Gracie physically, but she was bigger—twenty-two pounds to Gracie’s sixteen. Her coat was a bit whiter and her tail fanned out into a gorgeous plume. And her personality could not have been more different. She was a daredevil, always nosing open the back door and ducking out. More times than Linda liked, she had to chase Jackie down the block in her pajamas. Inside, Jackie scampered through the house, tipping over trash cans. While Gracie liked to plant herself in Linda’s lap during car rides, Jackie thrust her head out the window, eager to take in the sights. Gracie had mastered the rules of potty training in a matter of months, but Jackie never did seem to get the hang of it.
Early on, when Gracie growled at Jackie out of jealousy, Linda wondered if she’d made a mistake trying to introduce a second dog. But in a matter of weeks the Cavaliers warmed up to each other. To keep Jackie from marking territory all over the house, Linda crated her whenever she was out. Jackie didn’t mind the confinement. She seemed to actually like the den-like feel of the crate.
Before long, to Linda’s surprise, Gracie began climbing into the crate with Jackie. The two dogs curled up together and slept side by side. When they weren’t napping they were playing. Jackie was more assertive, the ringleader: If she grabbed a mouthful of grass from the yard, so did Gracie. If Jackie lay on her stomach and spread her back legs out as if she was bodysurfing, Gracie imitated her. On Linda’s bed, the two dogs would go at each other, jumping back and forth in mock combat. Linda had never seen Gracie act so lively. She was glad to see her focused on something other than herself.
Between the two pets, one thing was understood: Linda belonged to Gracie and no one else. If Jackie slept on Linda’s bed, she was relegated to the foot of it. Gracie alone claimed the coveted spot next to Linda’s pillow.
Anxious to be with Linda from the start, Gracie grew more so as time passed. Where once she relished going on errands in the car, she now grew frantic if Linda left the car to get a cup of coffee or to run into the grocery store—even if Erika and Julia stayed behind to keep her company. One afternoon when Linda dropped Erika off at a friend’s house and got out of the car for just a moment, Gracie panicked and hurled herself out the open window. She wasn’t injured by the fall, but Linda decided the car rides were becoming too traumatic. She began leaving Gracie at home.
The Cavalier’s eyesight exacerbated matters. Gracie’s vision, poor to start with when Linda adopted her, had worsened over time. Now she was practically blind. No longer able to see Linda, she went in search of her constantly. Gracie had committed to memory the floor plan of the family’s house, but if she was anywhere unfamiliar, she was in trouble. At the family’s beach house in Ocean City, New Jersey, she was completely disoriented; she constantly ran into furniture and doorways. At home, when Linda let Gracie outside to use the bathroom, the dog often had trouble finding her way back—she would run in circles until she heard Linda’s voice. One wintry afternoon, when Linda’s back was turned, Gracie toppled headfirst into the goldfish pond at the edge of the patio. Linda quickly fished her out, but it disturbed her to see Gracie having so much difficulty.
The Cavalier still suffered from dry eye. At one point her veterinarian, Dr. Kezell, recommended remedying the problem by surgically removing her eyeballs. It seemed too drastic a cure; Linda couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Another sign of Gracie’s past remained: While Jackie ate her food slowly and patiently, Gracie inhaled hers—as if her kibble would be taken away if she didn’t consume it fast enough. She never learned to eat at a leisurely pace.
Although her eyesight worsened, Gracie was still able to enjoy life. (Carol Bradley)
Despite her problems, Gracie was happy, and she had become far more sociable than she once was. Linda noticed this especially with her cycling buddies, the friends she got together with most weekends for long bike rides on country roads outside of town. For months, when her friends pedaled into the driveway on Saturday mornings, Gracie stuck by Linda’s side; she wanted nothing to do with the interlopers. In time, though, she let down her guard. If one or another of the cyclists called to Gracie, she would venture toward them. She would even stand still next to them and let them reach down and pet her.
• • •
In june 2007, a fire swept through a dog kennel in a nearby town, killing eighteen Pugs and French Bulldogs, just hours after an official had investigated conditions there. The fire looked suspicious. Upset by the surprise inspection, the breeder had threatened to have the dogs put down rather than clean up the kennel. For the first time in memory, Linda was compelled to go public with her feelings.
“Like many, I was horrified after reading the story about the kennel fire in Bethel Township,” she wrote in a letter to the editor of the Lebanon Daily News. “The owners should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Kudos to Gov. Ed Rendell, a true animal lover, for recognizing that the proliferation of exploitation and animal abuse in Pennsylvania requires swift and arduous punishment.
“As an owner of one of the infamous Chester 300 (300 animals rescued last year in Chester County, Pa.),” she wrote, “I have seen the lasting effects of an animal held captive in a puppy mill for her entire first years of life. When I see her stumble into objects because her vision has been greatly impaired from scar tissue and disease, or see her struggling to chew food because her teeth had to be extracted because of neglect, I can’t fathom how humans can be so heartless.”
She ended the letter with a word of advice.
“When considering pet ownership, please do your homework,” Linda wrote. “The Internet is a powerful means of marketing and selling animals bred in puppy mills. These breeders offer below-market prices and will even ship the animal to you. Purchase only from reputable breeders, and better yet, consider adoption.
“Let’s put an end to puppy mills in Pennsylvania.”
Her cycling friends teased her about her conversion into an animal lover. “They’re thinking: Where did this come from?” she said. Linda laughed along with them. “Yeah, I’ll be one of those eccentric old women living in a house with fifty dogs. Me and all the dogs.”
• • •
The year 2008 was full of change. In February, fourteen months after going to work for Team Pennsylvania, Linda switched jobs again. Her new position was development director for Luther Care, a nonprofit continuing care retirement community that operated three nursing home–assisted living centers as well as a couple of large childcare program
s. The new job meant a little more money, it was closer to home and, best of all, it involved little to no travel. Still, any work-related change entailed a degree of stress. Linda was just settling into her new position when, after being together for six years, she and Eric split up. They reconciled in April, but by the end of May they were separated again. “I think my life is too complicated for him,” Linda said.
She struggled to get over the breakup. At 47, she was blond, blue-eyed, and fit and could easily pass for someone ten years younger. Yet she wondered if she was getting past the point of finding a meaningful relationship. She had the kids, of course; they were talented and good-looking and she was crazy about them. But at 17, 14, and 11, they were also a handful.
For all her challenges, Gracie offered the sense of grounding Linda needed. There was something about the dog’s unfailing loyalty, her complete and unreserved focus that Linda found comforting. Did it stem from gratitude? She had no way of knowing. She sometimes wondered if Gracie hadn’t survived such hellish conditions whether she would be the devoted dog she had become.
Linda’s friend Jennifer was amazed at how faithfully Gracie would sit at Linda’s feet, gazing up at her in utter adoration. “Enjoy her while you can,” Jennifer told her. “She’s your once-in-a-lifetime pet.” Jennifer had developed a close bond with her own pet, a Siamese cat named Kirbie. When Kirbie got hit by a car and died, Jennifer was overcome with grief. Linda knew that if something happened to Gracie, she would be equally devastated.
By the end of summer 2008, Linda and Eric were back together and her personal life regained some stability. And on a completely different level, thanks to Gracie she found herself concerned about animals in ways she’d never been before.
She thought twice about the silver fox coat that hung in her closet and the suffering that had taken place needlessly to produce this bit of frivolous luxury. On bike rides outside Lebanon, she fretted over the black-and-white calves who stood, tied outside Dogloos, dotting the farms they passed. The vulnerable-looking calves had been taken from their mothers early; they were isolated and were being fed a diet of milk. In a matter of weeks they would be slaughtered and turned into veal. From a distance they reminded Linda of her Cavaliers, and seeing them began to upset her.
She donated money to the Berks County Animal Rescue League, a small thank-you for having cared for Gracie those first few months after the raid. And she became a dues-paying member of the HSUS. When the organization issued an appeal to stop the practice of dragging ill or injured “downer” cattle to slaughter, Linda wrote her member of Congress asking for his support.
Her concern over puppy mills deepened. She began following the efforts of the Rendell administration to overhaul the state’s dog law. She wasn’t annoyed when she heard people complain that the Rendell administration was putting animals’ rights ahead of humans’; there was a time when she might have agreed with them. But no longer. For the first time in her life, she felt it was important to have compassion for all creatures. “People who care about animals care about all living things, really,” she said. “That doesn’t diminish the importance of other people.”
From left to right: Erika, Julia, Ryan, and Linda Jackson with Jackie, Molly, and Gracie. From one Cavalier to three. Eric Walter)
She wondered why Pennsylvania’s dog breeders, even the responsible ones, balked at the proposed reforms instead of joining the effort to weed out the reckless breeders. “They’re all worried about it—they’re all worried about it,” she said, “and it makes me wonder if they’re not maybe just walking the fine line there.”
She cautioned friends and acquaintances who were thinking about buying a dog at a pet store about the perils of doing so. “Maybe you might want to rescue a dog,” she suggested.
In January 2009, thirteen months after purchasing Jackie, Linda returned to the breeder in Frystown to buy a third retired breeding dog, a seven-year-old black and tan Cavalier named Molly. The circle was now complete. Julia had Jackie. Erika and Ryan had Molly. And Linda had Gracie.
Blind, needy, now nine years old, Gracie wasn’t destined for greatness. She would never capture the top prize at Westminster or save a child who had fallen down a well.
Nevertheless, she had accomplished something. She had survived a puppy mill. She had learned to trust in people, to love and be loved. And in her own humble way, she had helped focus attention on the plight of the hundreds of thousands of dogs like her.
At the end of a workday, when Linda walked through the door and announced, “Hi girls, I’m home,” Gracie ran toward her with absolute joy. That alone seemed a small miracle.
Epilogue
Pennsylvania’s enactment of a tougher dog law had a ripple effect nationwide. Before passing its reform bill, the state had a reputation for lawlessness when it came to dog breeding. “You could break the rules all you wanted and you were not going to get in trouble,” Stephanie Shain of the Humane Society of the United States said. The new message was, “If they can do it in Pennsylvania, there’s hope.”
Overhauling the federal Animal Welfare Act would be the most uniform way to tackle puppy mills, but activists have had better luck at the state level. Nebraska and Rhode Island addressed dog breeding in 2007, the year before Pennsylvania’s breakthrough. In 2008, the same year Pennsylvania revamped its dog law, legislators in Louisiana, Virginia, and Maine passed new statutes. In 2009, Arizona, Connecticut, Indiana, Oregon, Tennessee, and Washington voted in new standards for kennel operators. When this book was written, proposals were pending in California, North Carolina, and Massachusetts. Illinois established a task force to propose legislation in 2010, and twenty-two other states began considering puppy mill legislation.
Before Pennsylvania’s law passed, Bob Baker, the dean of puppy mill investigators, had urged animal welfare advocates in Missouri, the country’s largest puppy mill state, to lobby for a stronger law there as well. But the activists were so demoralized by their failed attempts in the past that they dismissed his suggestions. In the wake of Pennsylvania’s success, they invited Baker back to hear again what he had to say.
Pennsylvania’s crackdown had a chilling effect on its own breeders. More than 300 of the state’s 2,674 licensed kennel operators—about 10 percent—said they planned to go out of business in 2009. In Lancaster County alone, 17 percent of licensed breeders said they would close.
State officials continued their cleanup efforts. On June 23, 2009, Pennsylvania’s Dog Law bureau seized 216 dogs from Almost Heaven and closed the kennel, pulling the plug on one of the state’s worst operators. A year earlier, the Pennsylvania SPCA had found up to 800 dogs and other animals living in squalid conditions just two months after the kennel passed a state inspection. A day after the June 23 raid, the Pennsylvania SPCA removed another twenty-two sick and injured cats and other animals the state had not been authorized to rescue. (State officials were allowed to remove dogs only.) The Dog Law bureau was able to shut Almost Heaven down permanently after owner Derbe “Skip” Eckhart failed to meet the deadline for appealing the denial of his 2009 kennel license.
The state Department of Agriculture fired Richard Martrich, the dog warden supervisor for the southeast region of the state, where Almost Heaven, Michael Wolf’s Mike-Mar Kennel, and a host of other problem breeders were located. The state Board of Veterinary Medicine suspended the license of Tom Stevenson, the veterinarian for Michael Wolf, Joyce Stoltzfus, and a number of other large-volume breeders, after he was charged with animal cruelty. An undercover investigator with the Pennsylvania SPCA said she saw him place the tail of a 9-week-old Poodle-mix puppy under scalding water and amputate it without anesthesia.
And in 2009, Governor Ed Rendell signed into law a bill banning tail-docking of dogs five days or older, debarking of dogs, and cesarean sections on dogs unless they are performed by a licensed veterinarian and under anesthesia. Puppy mill operators had bee
n known to practice all three procedures on their own, with nothing to relieve the dogs’ pain.
Following their convictions on animal cruelty charges, Wolf, Gordon Trottier, and Margaret Hills were suspended for life and fined $5,000 each by the American Kennel Club. In December 2006, they were found to be in violation of their probation after SPCA humane society police officer Cheryl Shaw and others conducted a surprise inspection of Wolf’s property and found two kittens, a cat, dog food, and dog feces. None of the defendants was jailed as a result of the violation, but all three were forbidden to own or keep animals for fifteen years.
In 2007, Wolf put his Lower Oxford property up for sale and moved to nearby Christiana. He bought land in South Carolina and by 2009 was believed to have relocated there with Trottier. No one knew his whereabouts for certain. The Chester County probation office said only that Wolf was no longer required to report in.
The Humane Society of the United States stepped up its campaign against the Petland pet store chain. The HSUS reported that some of the puppies supplied to Petland stores came from kennel operators with animal cruelty convictions or with numerous violations of the Animal Welfare Act, and from federally unlicensed kennels. More than 600 customer complaints about the chain prompted a consumer lawsuit in federal court in Arizona.
Meanwhile, Bob Baker continued investigating puppy mills for the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, which launched its own campaign to curtail irresponsible breeders. By 2009, he had visited more than 1,000 substandard kennels.
Bill Smith of Main Line Animal Rescue began urging a boycott of organic dairy operations run by farmers who had puppy mills on the side. Several breeders who also supplied milk to Horizon Organics shut down their dog kennels entirely to avoid repercussions with their milk sales.
Saving Gracie Page 21
