Aiken County Animal Advocates
THE VOICE OF PAWS
(Palmetto Animal Welfare Services, Inc.)
By Joya DiStefano
His first assignment involved picking up a half-dozen
cats. The area around the single-wide
mobile home indicated young children in residence. A small white dog barked in one window; a
black and white cat sat looking out another.
A young man came out and helped load three adolescent cats and three
kittens, all black and white, into the cages.
The one that got away was not that hard to catch.
“He says they were dropped off on his property,” Officer
Miller said as he climbed into the truck.
Next calls were pick-ups: a cat in a county trap, then a puppy on a
porch, both north of I-20. Almost as an
aside he said, “I brought in 33 animals last week,” adding, “That was just me.”
Officer Miller is one of four animal control officers
working for Aiken County Animal Services.
These men, along with Chief Bobby Arthurs, cover all of nearly
eleven-hundred square miles, including acting as occasional auxiliaries to the
cities of North Augusta and Aiken. Their
primary responsibility is public safety, but as the public-private partnership
between county government and Friends of the Animal Shelter, Inc. (FOTAS)
developed, bringing more resources to an overextended staff, the role of the animal control officer and
shelter staff has been broadened while still upholding the public trust.
“You can be a dogcatcher or you can be an animal control
officer,” Bobby Arthurs says he told the new officer last year during the
ride-along as part of his training. And
Officer Patrick Miller must have gotten the message.
Last spring Officer Miller was instrumental in arranging private
help for a family who had moved and needed a fence to confine their dogs, all
spayed and neutered with current rabies vaccines. On another case, a couple in very hard times,
upgraded the care of their five dogs, got the rabies vaccines, and needed help
getting dogs’ weight up. Officer Miller
arranged temporary food donations. And
that is not the only case.
There were the six dogs in the Valley. They were so thin that when the elderly woman,
receiving her warning, took them to the vet for the rabies shot, the vet called
Officer Miller to have him investigate the case. “I try to work with people,” he said, and has
been assisting with donated food to help fatten up the dogs. He remained quiet a moment then said, “Where
is the cut-off point?” He meant the line
between compassion and fostering an unsustainable dependency, a boundary that an
animal advocate as public servant must confront, or anybody, for that matter. He will find it, rest assured.
As we rode along the county roads, Patrick Miller talked
about the job more than himself. We
picked up the big beautiful gray cat in the trap. He talked about the emaciated horse that was
in the road and no owner was ever found.
There was the Billy goat that kept getting out while the owner was out
of town. He and another officer caught
the butting creature that, once captured, went meekly back to his pen,
again. When we came to the puppy on the
porch, I asked if I could ride her on my lap.
He offered me a pad to separate me from the fleas. I could feel her bones through the filthy
fur.
Riding the animals back to the shelter, Patrick confides
that sometimes he lets an obviously good dog, one whose owners can’t be
located, ride shotgun with him for company before taking it to the
shelter. Patrick ruminates over a case
involving multiple pit bulls. Throughout his involvement, the number and color
of the dogs keeps changing. Maybe the
guy is selling them. Yes, dog fighting
is illegal in South Carolina, “But like everything else, you have to have
proof,” he added.
At least the conditions provided those dogs have significantly
improved. In fact, Patrick makes routine
rounds to places he calls “trouble spots.”
They have all improved. And, in
the month of September, 436 animals came into the county shelter; 252 were cats
and 182 were dogs; 236 cats were euthanized (93%) and 87 dogs (48%). Obviously, we need more animal advocates.
