But he lacks what is perhaps the most essential ingredient in a dog’s life: a human who will take emotional responsibility for him.
Sadly, I see dogs like Ernie all the time, victims of a new, uniquely American kind of abuse, animals without advocates. Dogs like Flash, a Westchester border collie who spent her days chasing invisible sheep beyond a chain link fence, and Reg, an enormous black Lab in Atlanta who, like Ernie, was untrained, grew neurotic and rambunctious, and eventually was confined to the family playroom day and night. He leaves that room for several brief walks each day.
Who knows how many Ernies and Regs there are in urban apartments and suburban backyards? Few media outlets or animals rights groups would classify a $1,200 purebred as a candidate for rescue. In fact, I’ve contacted rescue groups to see if they could help; they were sympathetic, but they felt more comfortable with traditional kinds of abuse. A situation like this—emotional mistreatment is not illegal—was beyond their purview.
I understand, but Ernie haunts me. He may be the most abused dog I know.
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