Saving Gracie (22 page)

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 been 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.

Smith’s puppy mill rescue dog, Shrimp, died in the spring of 2009, and Smith grieved the loss. Shrimp’s story had spread across the globe; a week before he died, the dog received a fan letter from a child in Sudan.

Pam Bair pampered Jolie, her adopted Cavalier, for two years until Jolie developed heart problems and had to be euthanized on June 29, 2008. Pam became involved with a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel rescue program, and a month later she took in Paulie, a 10-year-old Cavalier who was homeless after his previous owner died.

In Chester County, Shaw continued her work nabbing suspected animal abusers. Assistant district attorney Lori Finnegan became the go-to prosecutor when it came to animal cruelty; she handled more than thirty cases before leaving the D.A.’s office in 2009 to practice law privately. She continues to prosecute animal abuse cases pro bono.

Linda Jackson still tells Gracie’s story to anyone who will listen.

Acknowledgments

Saving Gracie
is more than a book about a dog. It’s the story of a cast of characters who stepped up to help rescue a damaged dog—and of the people who rescue thousands of dogs like Gracie.

Topping the list is Linda Jackson, a woman who had not sought publicity but who graciously allowed me into her life to chronicle Gracie’s transformation as well as her own change in attitude. She opened her home and her heart, and her children, Ryan, Erika, and Julia, cooperated, too. That was priceless.

Humane society police officer Cheryl Shaw and the rest of the staff of the Chester County Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals were more than willing to dredge up the minute details necessary to describe the raid of Michael Wolf’s kennel and the aftermath. Susie Spackman, Chuck McDevitt, Jill Green Roxbury, Mike Beswick, Craig Baxter, and Becky Turnbull were enormously helpful.

At the Berks County Animal Rescue League, CEO Harry Brown took time from his crowded schedule to talk about his work. Pam Bair was a delight to spend time with; her compassion for animals spilled over into every conversation we had.

Chester County assistant District Attorneys Lori Finnegan and Kate Wright provided me a transcript of the court proceedings against Michael Wolf, which was hugely helpful, and patiently answered round after round of questions.

Puppy mill experts Bob Baker and Libby Williams shared a wealth of historical background on large-volume dog breeding. Bob has more firsthand experience than anyone when it comes to investigating reckless breeders, and Libby is a one-woman clearinghouse of information. They provided much-needed perspective about the epidemic growth of the industry.

I thank Laura and Mike Hewitt, Alycia Meldon, and Susan Krewatch for sharing the stories of their Cavalier King Charles Spaniels; they are consummate animal lovers, all. Gretchen Bernardi and Lisa Peterson helped me understand the American Kennel Club’s role in the debate over large-volume breeders. The Humane Society of the United States’ Stephanie Shain was most cooperative in sharing information and photos.

None of this would have been necessary, of course, if my agent, Jeff Kleinman, hadn’t seen the potential in a book about a puppy mill rescue. His unbridled enthusiasm kept me stoked, and his unerring eye helped mold the framework of the book. I couldn’t have asked for a better guide through the byzantine world of book publishing.

My editor at Howell Book House, Pam Mourouzis, had the foresight to recognize a story that needed to be told. She was a pleasure to work with. Development editor Beth Adelman brought a broad base of knowledge and a surgeon’s skill to bear with her questions, suggestions, and gentle carving of my words. Her bedside manner was superb. Wiley & Son’s Amy Sell, Malati Chavali, and Adrienne Fontaine worked behind the scenes to market and publicize the book.

I counted on a stable of writer friends for commiseration and support as I struggled to make the transition from newspaper reporting to tackling an entire book. Rochelle Sharpe was there from the beginning; she helped me examine every tea leaf along the way. Deb Pines helped me resurrect the beat-notes system we’d used many moons ago at the Gannett Westchester Newspapers in New York. Roni Rabin edited the manuscript with care and expertise. My parents, George and Irene Bradley, were there for me, and my brother, Jeff, and sister, Brooke, cheered me on all the way.

In Great Falls, I thank a host of other friends who knew when to ask how the book was going and when to change the subject. Their support meant more than they realize. I’m grateful to Ralph Beltrone and Brad Opheim for transforming the slope-ceilinged attic of our 1916 house into a cozy writer’s loft—the perfect place to hole up on a wintry Montana afternoon. (The pups like it, too.)

The biggest shout-out goes to my husband, Steve L’Heureux, whose steadfast love and encouragement enabled me to keep my eye on the prize. He was there for me all the way, and I can’t thank him enough.