Kicking the dog
A few weeks ago, Zeta and I went downtown to join in an organized dog walk put on by a local animal welfare group. About a dozen people, with over a dozen dogs, took to the trail around Lady Bird Lake in the late morning heat. Zeta loved it–I must admit I don’t get her out of the house as often as I should, but then we are having a ridiculous heat wave in Austin right now.
Zeta really doesn’t enter into this story, as she remained oblivious to the finer points of human interaction. This is more about human behavior. One man brought his two dogs with him on a split leash. The dogs were certainly rambunctious, and it seemed like they were not too accustomed to being out among other dogs. They would sometimes quickly lunge at other dogs, but I could not tell for sure if they were doing this with any aggression or if it was just an attempt to play. I know my dog, when she is leashed, can make some sudden movements out of sheer excitement. The man generally kept the dogs under control. I was concerned at times about the way he seemed to be disciplining them–there was a lot of yelling, and the occasional sudden move toward one dog or the other, as if to threaten something. I didn’t say anything, as I hadn’t seen anything specifically objectionable.
Near the end of the walk, that changed. I was on one end of the group and this man was at the other. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his leg start to move, and I heard a sound like a field goal kick, followed by a whimper. A sense of shock delayed my reaction, but others standing closer to the man were quick to inform him, firmly yet as politely as possible, that kicking his dog would only make the problems worse. The man’s reaction was somewhere between defiant and apologetic. I do not think, based on my limited observations, that these dogs are being routinely abused, but nothing excuses the kick that I saw.
I think the people who were there did the best they could with the situation. It would not do any good to attack this guy, verbally or physically, and all anyone could do is inform him that what he did was wrong. This got me wondering, though, what any of us could have done if we suspected these dogs were being routinely abused. Of course the man could be charged with animal cruelty and could face fines and jail time, but what would happen to the dogs? Specifically, can one individual step in and rescue a dog or dogs from an abusive situation?
Yes and no, as it turns out.
This is addressed in Chapter 821, Subchapter B of the Texas Health and Safety Code. According to the statute itself, a “peace officer or an officer who has responsibility for animal control in a county or municipality” who thinks an animal is being abused “may apply…for a warrant to seize the animal.” If the officer can show probable cause, the judge or magistrate may order the animal taken into custody. The animal gets impounded, and a hearing must be held within 10 days to determine whether cruel treatment has occurred.
A private citizen does not have the power to petition a court on behalf of an animal believed to be abused. Furthermore, if a judge orders a warrant for the animal, the animal gets impounded, which typically means the animal goes to a public shelter or a private shelter contracted to the city or county. It’s far from ideal, but hopefully it would be better than staying in the abusive environment.
The animal’s owner can present evidence at the hearing. If the owner has a conviction or finding of animal cruelty in a criminal case involving this animal, that is automatically admitted as evidence of abuse. The owner’s statements at this hearing cannot be used against the owner in a criminal prosecution for animal cruelty, so the owner can freely present evidence and testify without Fifth Amendment concerns. The statute does not say what the burden of proof is for the hearing, but since it is a civil matter it is probably a preponderance of the evidence standard.
If the court finds that no abuse has occurred, the animal is returned to the owner. If the court finds that abuse has occurred, it gets complicated.
If the court finds that the animal’s owner has cruelly treated the animal, the owner shall be divested of ownership of the animal, and the court shall:
(1) order a public sale of the animal by auction;
(2) order the animal given to a nonprofit animal shelter, pound, or society for the protection of animals; or
(3) order the animal humanely destroyed if the court decides that the best interests of the animal or that the public health and safety would be served by doing so.
This is a tough thing to wrap one’s head around. On the one hand, these laws recognize and protect the rights of animals to be free from abuse and pain. The statute that criminalizes abuse of “nonlivestock animals” defines “cruel manner” as “a manner that causes or permits unjustified or unwarranted pain or suffering.” The statute that protects cruelly-treated animals allows for the prompt removal of an animal from an abusive situation. This is analogous to the statute allowing the state to take possession of children when there is an immediate danger to the child’s health or safety. On the other hand, these laws treat animals as personal property to be sold once the owner’s rights have been terminated by the court.
We don’t have to solve the property question right now, though. An animal has value sufficient to warrant legal intervention if abuse can be shown to have occurred. It requires the involvement of a police or animal control officer, which may or may not be easily available depending on where you live. Of course, I can only speak to the laws in Texas, but I suspect other states may have similar procedures.


