Barking Up The Wrong Pooch

The three-month controversy over a three-legged dog ended this week not with a bark but a court-sanctioned whimper.

We met Mike, an arthritic, aging sheltie born without a right rear leg, in January after he caused quite a stir for hanging out in the front yard of his human’s Taylor Ranch home.

Mike, 9, had done this for years, apparently without issue. Neighbors in his cul-de-sac on Prairie Sage NW say the old dog is a sweet lad who occasionally barks but never bites, who barely shuffles off his cushion, given his disability, mellow attitude and abundance of heft and hair.

But, on Jan. 10, two Albuquerque Animal Welfare officers showed up and cited Mike’s human, Marvin Teitelbaum, with not having city dog licenses and for violating the city’s animal restraint/leash law, because the front yard – like every front yard on the block – is not fenced.

Teitelbaum had those city licenses, tucked away under piles of files of dog records. But all he had for the restraint/leash law charge was contempt.

“If Mike was a nuisance, I wouldn’t let him stay in the front yard,” he said then. “I don’t want to make a big issue of this, but I truly feel that Mike should be able to live out his days in peace without being harassed. As long as he is not hurting anyone or causing a disturbance, I don’t see what the problem is.”

Teitelbaum told Mike’s tale in this column Jan. 20.

This Wednesday, he finally got the chance to tell the tale to Metro Court Judge Daniel Ramczyk.

Moments before he entered the courtroom, Teitelbaum, a mariachi player and retired teacher of the developmentally disabled, was unsure of what to expect or what he should say.

But, he said, Mike knew.

“I talked to Mike this morning and asked him, ‘What should I do?’ ” Teitelbaum said. “And he said, ‘Fight for me.’ ”

Which, if you have a dog you love, is not such a strange thing.

To Teitelbaum (and apparently to Mike), this was more than a misdemeanor charge, punishable by up to 90 days in jail, a $500 fine or participation in the city’s “responsible pet school.”

No, this was a stand against an ordinance that interfered with a homeowner’s right to do what he wants on his own property. It was a stand for a sweet old dog who can barely stand, who wants nothing more than to live out his days enjoying the world he can’t see behind a backyard fence.

So Teitelbaum steeled himself, armed with dog tags and licenses, photos of the portable metal fence he now sometimes circles a very confused Mike with, and the hope that wiser, more merciful minds might prevail.

But there was no fight.

There was no trial.

Ramczyk was cheerful, wise, merciful and quick about it, dismissing the charges within seconds.

He chuckled at Mike’s name, made a note about the portable fencing and sent Teitelbaum on his way.

“Tell Mike I said hello and I’m going to dismiss,” Ramczyk said.

For Teitelbaum, it was a relief. But it was also a letdown.

“I was ready to do what I feel is the right thing and advocate for my dog,” he said.

But the woman listed on Animal Welfare records as the complainant against Mike may not agree that any of it was right.

Abby Keller, an employee at a West Side animal hospital, tells a different tale about her encounter with Mike.

The Mike she met can run.

“We were walking our two dogs on their leashes, and he was out in front and he came running really fast,” Keller said. “He caused a ruckus with our dogs, snarling and all that.”

She cannot explain how the chubby, crippled dog I saw could be the vicious, agile monster she encountered.

She ended the conversation before I could ask her why the city complaint never mentions a dog ruckus or a dog running off the property.

What the complaint does say is that when Animal Welfare officers arrived at Teitelbaum’s house, Mike was sitting in the front yard and that he barked but “could not stand or come toward” them.

Teitelbaum was bemused by Keller’s version of events.

“She must have gotten the wrong dog,” he said. “None of my dogs run, certainly not Mike.”

It’s just another odd twist in an odd case of an old dog and an old argument over when an ordinance crosses the line between protection of the community and personal freedom.

“I feel like there should be a lesson to be learned here, but I don’t know what it could be,” he said. “This should never have happened in the first place. What a waste of taxpayer time and money.”

Mike likely doesn’t care. He’s got his own view on the world, from his front yard, bothering no one.

UpFront is a daily front-page news and opinion column. Comment directly to Joline at 823-3603, jkrueger@abqjournal.com or follow her on Twitter @ jolinegkg. Go to www.abqjournal. com/letters/new to submit a letter to the editor.
— This article appeared on page A1 of the Albuquerque Journal