To Steal or Not to Steal ?

 

Dinggggg

Dinggggg

But I’m watching the playoffs.

Dinggggggg

 

“OK OK, I’ll look.” I yell at my laptop.

You have been tagged on a post. I take a deep breath.

2 Pit bulls- Possibly will be sold for drugs to become bait-dogs. Please help.

I click on the post. There are 57 comments. People in rescue and concerned humans commenting over and over about “Hope someone can save these poor dogs.”

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Don’t do it, Inder. Just don’t . It’s the same dance.

My fingers type these words. “I’ll get them.”

Darn it.

It’s a drug-den and I’m new to Dallas. I’m somewhat familiar with the dingy underbelly of Houston. This is new. I need a lookout person.

“Can someone go with me to steal these dogs?” I type and wait.

No response.

It’s the age-old dilemma. We want to save dogs but we want someone else to save them. It’s always someone else.

ME

 

There’s just one person I know in Dallas and I ask her. A 30-year-old Vegan woman who just loves animals and is a kind generous and lovable soul. She is very slightly built- but she doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll go with you.” She types.

Together we go through the rigmarole. A pair of new box-cutters at Home Depot. Gloves, leashes, treat. And we are off.

The things to determine are

  • Is it a prized fighting dog? In that case we are screwed. He will be aggressive, and expensive and well protected.
  • Is it a bait dog? He would be timid and injured.
  • Is he a dog that’s just neglected?

 

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My strategy to steal or report cruelty or buy will depend upon that.

I check for dog-fighting paraphernalia; none. I approach the dog to check for friendliness. He is in a dog-house in a vacant lot. There is filth all around him and he comes out slowly. He has a giant chain around his neck with 5 locks dangling from it. His gait is labored, his neck is lowered, his shoulders are hurting from the heavy chain.

Gosh.

I extend my hand to him. He comes close and sniffs it. Then he just drops to the ground and throws his legs in the air. He want’s human contact- any contact other than a human striking it.

I rub his belly. He moans and groans. I’m his new friend.

I’m just about to remove his chain from his neck when I hear a voice behind me.

“Is there a problem?” An extremely thin, older man walks up to me. His hands are placed on his hips.

“Plan B, Plan B, Plan B”

I try to get him to give up his dogs and negotiate a humane release for them. But he just wants some money. His missing teeth confirm my doubt for what he wants money for.

My life is a struggle to prevent drug use, but I am pro-life. Just pro-dog-life. He wants a 100$ apiece or he will report me to the police for attempting to steal his dogs.

I threaten cruelty and tethering citations. But he’s played this game a hundred times before. He calls my bluff.

I offer him 80 $ and he agrees right away.

Five minutes later two sweet pit bulls are on their freedom ride. In an air-conditioned car after years of being in dirt and filth and the elements, within a minute both are snoring.

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That’s how I almost went back to stealing. The sweet woman who was my lookout driver had type 9-1-1 on her phone already and her trembling finger hovered over the green button of her phone. She had told me she hasn’t stolen anything in her life. I promised her that I would try and keep her record intact. And we did.

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Two dogs got another shot at life or a shot at a humane death.

And I almost stole again.

But some crimes are worth it- aren’t they?

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