Banned Dog Won’t Roll Over This Time
This is a story about a man and his dog.
The man is Mark Flint, a 47-year-old purveyor of vitamins, herbs and nutritional supplements such as saw palmetto (said to be helpful for men with enlarged prostates) and ginkgo biloba (said to fight short-term memory loss). With longtime sweetheart Micki Hollien, Flint is the proprietor of the Nutrition Depot, a neat little store in Chatsworth that draws customers from miles around.
The canine is Brandywine de la Shell, or just Brandy to friends. This golden retriever may be registered with the American Kennel Club, but Brandy is no snooty show dog. She is, by all accounts, a lovable pooch who greets everyone by rolling over to invite a tummy rub.
Brandy was just 6 weeks old when Mark started bringing her to the store. That was four years ago, and soon Brandy established herself as the unofficial mascot for Topanga Lassen Plaza. Kids would quickly eat breakfast at Country Deli, ditch their parents and come over to visit Brandy. Customers might forget Mark’s name but they all knew Brandy.
Then on Feb. 1 somebody entered the store who was impervious to Brandy’s charms. This was a county health inspector, and she told Mark Flint to get that dog out of there.
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“She’s a wonderful dog. That’s not fair!” customer Laura Kirk declared one afternoon last week as she reached for a pen. With Brandy at home in Tujunga, Mark Flint now has a petition for company. More than 150 people have signed on, demanding Brandy’s reinstatement. (Along with her signature, one customer wrote, “This dog is so sweet and harmless and we miss her.”)
In the annals of social justice, the plight of Brandy and her best friend may not rank as a high priority. But still, Flint and his supporters can make a strong argument that our local health inspectors can get overly officious.
One owner of such a store--I won’t say where--once told me about an inspector who deliberately looked away from the resident dog. After checking for major problems, she said, “By the way, I didn’t see your dog,” and then walked out the door.
Sam Bellomo, who has the ample title of acting manager for the north area of the County Department of Health Services Environmental Health Division, says the inspector was quite correct in citing Flint. The Nutrition Depot, he says, fits the legal definition of a “food facility,” just as surely as a restaurant or a grocery.
And the law, Bellomo says, only allows for narrow exceptions to the prohibition on dogs. If Flint were blind and Brandy were a guide dog, it would be OK. Or if Flint were a uniformed security officer and Brandy were a certified guard dog.
But Brandy, as Flint admits, is simply a pet. Still, to a potential robber, Flint argues, “She looks like a deterrent . . . even if she’d probably just lick him to death.”
Laura Kirk was one of those customers who couldn’t remember Mark’s name but certainly remembers Brandy. A waitress who lives in Palmdale and works at Mel’s Drive-In in Sherman Oaks, she goes several miles out of her way to shop at the Nutrition Depot. The fact that Brandy wasn’t there made her livid.
“What are they worried about?” Kirk asked. “Everything is sealed in here. Who would buy something here that wasn’t sealed?
“I have three huskies myself that sleep on my bed. . . . I’d rather have a dog come into the restaurant than some of the things that walk through the door. Dogs are more well-mannered than most of the people I wait on.”
Kirk bought a supply of vitamin C, potassium, B complex, magnesium and something called Excel. And she came up with a holistic argument for Brandy, which seemed appropriate given the nature of Flint’s business.
“People come here to get healthy,” she said, “and it’s proven that dogs are very therapeutic.”
Mark Flint absolutely agrees. He is certain that Brandy’s affection helps him deal with the stress of everyday life. “She’s good for my high blood pressure,” he says.
Soon Kirk went on her way and two other regular customers came through the door.
“We’ve come to sign up,” one gray-haired lady declared. “We want our dog back!”
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What if Mark Flint got a note from his doctor, prescribing Brandy’s company as therapy for high blood pressure? Would that change the health department’s attitude? Just a thought.
The good news is that Flint will have a chance to argue for Brandy’s reinstatement. Flint’s humble crusade led him to Leeta Pistone, a senior field deputy for Supervisor Mike Antonovich. Pistone visited the Nutrition Depot and, according to Flint, was entirely sympathetic to his plight. On Monday, Pistone and Bellomo are scheduled to visit the Nutrition Depot.
Bellomo proved a tough one to pin down. He said a professional should not just adhere to the letter of the law, but also to the spirit. This sounded like maybe an exception could be made. But at other times, he seemed quite the stickler, arguing that it was possible a dog could carry bugs that were capable of getting inside those sealed packages.
By all rights, a fourth party should have a seat at this summit. That would be Brandy. It would be nice to see the bureaucracy get a licking.
Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to Harris at the Times Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth, CA 91311. Please include a phone number.
‘I have three huskies myself that sleep on my bed. . . . I’d rather have a dog come into the restaurant than some of the things that walk through the door.’
