Putting Teeth Into L.A.’s Dog License Laws

Heidi was a bitch, but I loved her.

Fanny was a bitch too, but I loved her even more.

As for Lunah, well, I don’t know her, but no doubt she is loved too.

Lunah was the name Gini Barrett and her husband, Richard Katz, the once and perhaps future state legislator, decided upon for the stray, injured Labrador mix they found in 1988 on a roadside not far from their Sylmar home. Lunah is still with them, but Barrett seldom takes her out for walks.

Barrett says she’s learned from experience that now it would only be a matter of minutes before a pack of strays, usually from the gene pool of the pit bull and Rottweiler, would attack Lunah.

Packs of wild and stray dogs are part of the reason Barrett, a member of the city’s Animal Regulation Commission and western regional director of the American Humane Assn., has advanced a bold proposal: a $500 licensing fee for owners who fail to spay or neuter their dogs, and a $500 fine for scofflaws.

There are various exemptions, but still: For many dog owners, this ordinance, still subject to City Council review, could add up to a potential cost of $1,000.

That ought to get people’s attention.

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Simply getting attention and stimulating debate, Barrett says, is why the board picked such big, round numbers in the first place. Part of the problem is that too many people, even dog owners, aren’t aware that L.A. has a canine crisis. Given the sensational headlines and TV coverage, people may think the more pressing concern is what to do about boa constrictors that have a taste for Chihuahua or finding out once and for all who, or what, killed a certain pug.

May Pal the pug and Babette the Chihuahua rest in peace. And so, too, may the 55,000 unwanted dogs that were “put down” or “put to sleep,” as the euphemisms go, by the city last year. Countywide, more than 170,000 of our proverbial best friends were put to death, to a great degree because people are such idiots.

At a city animal shelter last week, Barrett said, she watched a man hand over an 8-week-old puppy “because it had peed on the floor.” Often people carry in a box full of puppies with their mother on a leash. Barrett remembers one woman’s angry lament: “I don’t know what else to do--she keeps getting pregnant!” For that woman, the term “loose dog” may have had two meanings.

The canine death toll is appalling, an ugly monument to irresponsible pet ownership, yet animal control remains a low priority. Nobody wants stronger animal control laws more, Barrett says, than the veterinary technicians who are charged with doing the dirty work of killing canines. Nobody, that is, except perhaps for those whose children have been mauled by strays or dogs that are irresponsibly cared for.

As conceived by the animal control board--and adopted on a 4-0 vote Tuesday--the $500 fee and $500 fine add up to a big stick that would encourage dog owners to have their pets spayed or neutered. Dogs that have undergone these alterations could be licensed for only $10.

Many thousands of dogs would be exempted under the plan and could be licensed for $35. The exemptions, as now considered, would apply to unaltered show dogs, guide dogs, police dogs and employed performing dogs. Membership in dog clubs is considered for exemptions. A dog whose owner completes 100 hours of volunteer service for the Department of Animal Regulations would also be exempted.

The plan is, obviously, wide open to the charge of elitism. Why should fancy show dogs qualify for a $35 fee while the loyal family dog requires a $500 fee if you want her to be able to have puppies? The fee and fine would obviously hurt poor people much more than the well-to-do.

Barrett says she is sure the City Council will tweak and refine the proposal. Perhaps the price of the penalties and fees would be lowered. Whatever the council does, she says, it’s important that the city bring back a dog license canvassing program to ensure enforcement of new laws.

Meanwhile, there is hope that state legislation could also control the pet population. State Sen. Herschel Rosenthal (D-Van Nuys) is drafting a bill that targets a largely uncontrolled industry among unlicensed dog breeders. Lynette Stevens, Rosenthal’s chief of staff, says it is conservatively estimated that the state loses $240 million in sales tax revenue that should be paid by these “backyard breeders.” Current state law requires a breeder’s permit for anyone who sells 50 dogs in a calendar year. Rosenthal’s idea is to require a permit of anyone who sells or even gives away a dog.

The city already has an obscure law requiring a license for dog breeders, Stevens says. But when she checked records several months ago, only six or seven licenses had been issued. A look at the Sunday classifieds would suggest that there are hundreds of unlicensed breeders out there.

I wonder if the breeder we took Heidi to was licensed.

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That was a long time ago. I was maybe 5 or 6 years old when I awakened to the sound of Heidi’s whines and first witnessed what is commonly called the miracle of birth. We had moved her bed from the little bathroom to the room I shared with my older brother. There were five little dachshunds in all, their eyes shut tight. One pair of eyes would never open. We sadly watched as Heidi tried to lick life into her stillborn pup.

Fanny was a little black mutt who was part of the family for 17 years. She had three litters--four, then three, then one, all of which we gave to the neighbors who owned a pet store.

I was maybe 13 years old the day Fanny was in heat and I decided to protect her honor.

Four or five neighbor dogs--small mutts all--had come calling. They were gathered by the garage, separated from their desire by a cinder-block wall. The day before, some had managed to scale the wooden gate.

I figured I’d shoo these bad dogs away. The dogs eyed me warily as I picked up a broom. Then I screamed and charged, wielding the broom as a weapon. The dogs turned tail and ran.

They’d gone 50 feet up the driveway when the leader of the pack decided this wasn’t much fun. Suddenly he stopped, turned, growled and came after me with his fangs bared. So did the others.

I just barely made it to the side porch and through the door.

These days, I’d probably just have the bitch spayed. After one litter, maybe.

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Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to Harris at the Times Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth, CA 91311, or via e-mail at scott.harris@latimes.com Please include a phone number.