Posts Tagged ‘Fort Worth Pets’

 Fort Worth is about halfway through their meetings discussing the large aggressive dog problem.  To see the original blog post, see “Fort Worth to Patrol for Pit Bulls? From a press release by the City:

What:

The fourth in a series of public meetings to gather input on concepts recently presented by the city’s Code Compliance staff that aim to be proactive in addressing the growing number of stray animals – particularly large, aggressive dogs – in the city.

When:

6 to 9 p.m. Thursday

Where:

Meadowbrook United Methodist Church, 3900 Meadowbrook Drive

Schedule of remaining meetings

• 6-9 p.m. Thursday, June 4 – Goodwill Industries, Community Garden Room, 4005 Campus Drive
• 9 a.m.-noon Saturday, June 6 – Fort Worth Botanic Garden, Dorothea Leonhardt Lecture Hall, 3220 Botanic Garden Blvd.

My mother sent me this article from the New York Times which says that in New Haven, Connecticut, they are considering allowing up to 6 hens per city lot.  That’s a good thing, I’d say, since I am in favor — major favor — of keeping chickens in town. Of course, here in Fort Worth we are allowed to keep up to 12 hens on our residential lots, a priveledge I have availed myself of in the past.

We are not allowed to keep roosters for obvious reasons. They crow and wake people up. In fact, even if they were allowed, I don’t know if I’d want one. Another important rule is the chickens must be kept 50 feet from the house.  And fenced in, not left running around the yard.

A recent press release from the City of Fort Worth seems to imply that there is a pit bull — or “large aggressive dog” problem in the city.

Let’s be honest, folks: it’s not “large agressive dogs,” it’s the Pit Bulls are what we’re talking about. If there weren’t the pit bulls the large agressive dog problem in Fort Worth could be rounded up and kept in a couple of back yards. But Pit Bulls are everywhere. There are large numbers of these dogs at the humane society shelters, being put to sleep because there are far too many whelped.  But that’s only part of the problem. The rest of the problem — that people prefer to own aggressive dogs to intimidate their neighbors and don’t always keep them in the yard – is the larger deal.

Personally, I think an aggressive dog licence, costing more money and with a microchip, should be discussed. I’ve always been one who feels people’s rights, to be safe and not to be attacked, are more important than pet owners rights to own whatever kind of dog they want and let it run loose. At any rate, here’s the City’s press release:

Public Input Sought for Animal Ordinance Concepts

FORT WORTH – In 2008, city police officers were forced to use their weapons to subdue an aggressive animal 27 times.

Between 2006 and 2008, more than 3,300 reports of bites by an aggressive animal were reported.

Those are significant numbers and represent the significant potential risk to the public from stray aggressive animals.

Concepts recently presented by the city’s Code Compliance staff aim to be proactive in addressing the growing number of stray animals – particularly large, aggressive dogs – in the city.

New approaches could include:

• adding an “aggressive dog” designation defining animal behavior that will trigger mandated enhanced safeguards, preventive measures and penalties
• establishing minimum pen sizes for dogs
• establishing variable fencing enclosure requirements based on the height and weight of animals, with required maintenance and self-locking gates
• giving Animal Control officers authority to seize animals tethered or chained
• requiring all dogs and/or cats to be spayed or neutered unless they have a valid intact-pet permit
• requiring microchips for all pets unless a medical waiver is granted by a veterinarian
• restricting relocation to Fort Worth of any “dangerous dogs” from other communities.

Changes to the fines and fees schedule could include:

• making available a new three-year microchip pet license (with a three-year rabies vaccination)
• making available a provisional license, offered by Animal Control field officers
• making available a late license fee for unlicensed animals claimed at the Animal Care and Control Center
• adding an annual intact-pet permit fee
• adding an annual aggressive dog registration fee
• increasing the cost of fines for dangerous dogs and unrestrained dogs.

As well, Animal Control is using a new, nonlethal net gun which, when fired, deploys a net that entangles aggressive loose animals, making them easier to capture, and is considering re-implementing the use of dart guns in extreme cases.

The public can offer input on the concepts during a series of open meetings:

6-9 p.m. Thursday, May 14 - Fort Worth Botanic Garden, Dorothea Leonhardt Lecture Hall, 3220 Botanic Garden Blvd.

6-9 p.m. Tuesday, May 19 - Travis Avenue Baptist Church, 3028 Lipscomb St.

6-9 p.m. Thursday, May 28 - Meadowbrook United Methodist Church, Community Life Center, 3900 Meadowbrook Drive

6-9 p.m. Thursday, June 4 - Goodwill Industries, Community Garden Room, 4005 Campus Drive

9 a.m.-noon Saturday, June 6 - Fort Worth Botanic Garden, Dorothea Leonhardt Lecture Hall, 3220 Botanic Garden Blvd.

It is a lovely, rain-swept Friday morning, nearly everyone but myself is at school, and I am left to relax, perhaps tidy a bit, check my Twitter feed…and chase a certain set of three month old puppies around the house. They dump over the trash, rip up the duct tape I placed on the floor, run up and down the hall at a wild pace, annoy the older dog, search out food, chew up my underwear, and I’m sure, while I’m not looking, soil the carpet somewhere, despite my efforts to a) take them outside, then b) put newspaper down, and let us not forget c) try to put them out again.

See, Basenjis are like cats, and are not to be controlled…just like certain members of the opposite sex whom I will not go into at this moment in time but don’t worry, I’ll get to them too.

The problem today with these animals (don’t worry, we are still on the actual fur-covered creatures streaking about the house) is that they hate water.

They run from it. It takes two people to give our little ten pound Briseis a bath – one to hold the sprayer and the other to keep her from leaping out her skin and out of the tub. When put out in the rain, they will squash themselves between the screen and the door, screaming and yowling and giving pathetic looks, ear back, tails bedraggled, and they aren’t even wet yet. So, on this lovely and wind-swept morn, I can’t take them out, nor can I leave them in their crate, because while I can zone out a lot of things, zoning out frantic Basenji screams is a bit much.

So, I let them in.

I gate them in the kitchen. They pad around there, finding tidbits, chewing on the fridge handle. Then they get bored. They jump up, place front paws on top of child gate, which is much taller than they when standing with all four white feet on the ground. Then, they cry. They whine. And then that doesn’t work, they both in unison jettison off those little back legs and are running about the house. Attempts to tell them to calm down, stay in a room, don’t scream at me, sit in my lap, hey don’t chew that, what ARE you doing, leave the bathroom trash alone, leave BT alone, leave my laundry alone, chew on your own toys, leave my desk alone, leave my foot alone, GET OUT OF THERE, BT, stop growling at them, don’t you pee on my carpet, hey, stop! stop! STOP! — all these to no avail.

As I sit and calmly pull my hair out, massage strained temples, and wonder if they will ever be trained, I ruminate on others in my life who refuse to be controlled, who similarly come and go at their will, and (here the allegory starts to fall apart, I’m afraid to say) though it really wouldn’t break my heart if they just disappeared, I’ve gotten over worse, they refuse to go, and, they, who will remain nameless, insist on staying in my life, but at perfectly infrequent intervals. Do they go? No. Do they stay? No. Do they waver in the limbo in between, where they may be an admirer, or maybe just a really busy friend who says sweet things on occasion, but then disappears the moment the next stop would be taken? Oh yes.

My poor attempts to have a clean slate, meet new people, and move on from those of yesteryear are being sabotaged by both my failure to really leave the area, and that all these guys from my past life refuse to forget about me. I wouldn’t mind if they weren’t serially flaky and undependable. And when I say this I don’t mean if I reach out for help I would go wanting, because I’m sure they would be there to help and walk the line between really meaning anything to me, and then promptly run for the wind.

There are many of them, who contact me once a month or so – they each have their own very concrete schedule – with nice things to say, fun conversations to be had, and then…niente. Until, of course, thirty days or two weeks or three fifths through the next lunar cycle they each turn up again, and the merry-go-round continueth.

So, if any of you are listening, oh boys of flaky crust and charged friendship, get serious or get packing. I actually do have plenty enough male friends (enough to fill acres and acres in my head) and your sweet, unfulfilled friendship is actually nothing new, and if I want, I can go check under every rock between here and Timbuktu for another nice, friendly, almost-flirtatious guy to come to my rescue, pump up my ego, mumble sweet nothings, and really be there…without actually ever taking me on a real date.

So there.

Briseis and Kalypso, the twin girls

Some might be wondering how the twin dogs we got are working out. They are as cute as can be, a perfectly matched team of canines, truly, while walking them down the street, I feel a sense of real pride at their beauty and their elegance.

That’s not to say that they are perfect saints, like my dog. We had a dinner guest over last night when a sudden snarling broke out in my bedroom.

My daughter sprang up from her chair. “What are they into now!” she cried out. “They must have found some chocolate.”

“Do your dogs eat chocolate?” I asked. But she was gone to break up the fight. Quickly thereafter, the two baby dogs burst out of the hallway, snarling and snapping. “Get out,” she told them, driving them toward the back door. “Worthless animals!” A slam sounded as she urged them out into the back yard.

Now she came back to the dinner table. “Do you know what it was?” She exclaimed. “It wasn’t chocolate after all. I was thinking if it was chocolate, it might be understandable, but all that was over marshmallow Peeps!”

“They eat Peeps?” I was shocked.

“Apparently they consider them a delicacy,” she said, grumbling as she sat back down.

The pups eat marshmallows. In fact, apparently they will fight for marshamallows. Not to the death, but to the boot out the back door at least.