For Slater the Mastiff, Death May Beat Life as a Guard Dog

I’m against capital punishment for people, but what about dogs? Seems like I ought to develop a little consistency on the subject, but frankly, I don’t want to think about it. Too much stress in my life already.

That doesn’t mean I wasn’t drawn to the story last week about the dog named Slater who was put to death Saturday for its attack on a 10-year-old boy last Christmas. The boy needed more than 50 stitches on his face.

What had to strike any reader was how the courtroom argument over the dog’s fate echoed that for accused humans. The dog’s attorney (yes, he had one) wanted to give his client a chance at life by sending him to a company that uses guard dogs. Slater’s owners also suggested the boy may have provoked the attack with a karate chop.

The county’s attorney, on the other hand, said Slater deserved no such break. She urged the harshest punishment society can inflict for the 120-pound Neapolitan mastiff.

A judge agreed and reluctantly pronounced sentence. Slater’s two owners were downcast but said they wouldn’t appeal.

I can’t deal with the issue, so I turned to Patricia Guiver, founder of Orange County’s Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

Thinking nothing sounded crueler than death, I figured Guiver would make the case for sparing the dog. She surprised me.

“I’m certainly sympathetic with the owners, but the only alternative the judge was offered was that the dog should go to a guard dog agency, and I certainly wouldn’t have wished that on the dog,” she said.

“What kind of life is that?” Guiver asked. “This dog was raised with loving owners and had been the family pet and to have to spend the rest of his life as a guard dog. . . . I’m not saying anyone there would have been abusive, but who knows what might happen when you’re guarding a car lot or a junkyard or whatever.”

The thought occurred that those supporting capital punishment for people never do so on grounds the criminals would be happier dead.

But, Guiver said, “there are worse things to a dog than to be gently euthanized by a vet with an injection.”

Guiver, who doubles as a writer of the Delilah Doolittle pet detective mysteries (she’s working on the sixth in the series now), said a courtroom was the proper place to decide Slater’s fate.

“You can’t automatically euthanize every dog that bites,” she said. “Unfortunately, a lot of dogs bite, and a lot of them bite children, because they’re smaller and are more likely to chase or taunt the dog.”

Still, she said, “I think common sense says you can’t have children being at risk to a vicious dog.”

The deck isn’t always stacked against the dog. Guiver cited a 1996 Orange County case in which a dog named Boo twice won death-sentence reprieves. “He had to be muzzled for the rest of his life and kept in an enclosed area,” she said.

The SPCA, Guiver said, doesn’t contest humane euthanizing of dogs. “It’s the manner in which they’re euthanized. Large shelters euthanize lots of animals every day. Of course, we don’t like it and hope it’s done under the most humane conditions.”

The group decries “irresponsible owners” who don’t spay and neuter their pets, which Guiver said inevitably results in the need to euthanize unwanted animals.

I asked Guiver if she might find grist for a future book in a case like Slater’s.

“This kind of story would not be a Delilah story,” she said. “But my agent is trying to get me to do something harder, a little edgier.”

However, she doubts that her readers, conditioned to books like “Delilah Doolittle and the Purloined Pooch,” would accept a radical departure.

“No dead dogs are allowed in my stories,” Guiver said. “Dead people, but no dead dogs. That’s pretty much the rules.”

In all honesty, I can’t say I’m grieving Slater’s demise.

And at this writing, no word of any candlelight vigils.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.