Read Online Hounded to Death by Laurien Berenson - Free Book Online

comes.”
    I could see Margo, sitting off to one side of the dais. Her fingers were knit together tightly in her lap. Her expression was strained.
    Charles, by contrast, looked calm and composed. He grasped the sides of the podium between his hands and gazed out over his audience.
    â€œUnfortunately in its current state, the sport of dogs has become a somewhat unnatural activity. Driven by the desire to produce dogs that will excel in the show ring, putting the need to win above all else, breeders are manipulating canine genetics in the quest to produce a perfect specimen. A quest that has not only proven elusive but has also worked to the detriment of many breeds. One only has to look at the narrow, pointed head of the Collie, the profuse, almost unworkable coat of the Poodle, or the reproductive difficulties of many of the Toy breeds to see how true this is.”
    â€œI would beg to differ,” Aunt Peg said under her breath.
    No surprise, she sounded annoyed. As soon as Charles had uttered the words, I’d known that the reference to Poodles would make her bristle.
    â€œWe have taken animals that, in their pure and natural state, are a thing of grace and beauty, of intelligence and fierce loyalty, and we have turned them into little more than puppets for human entertainment.”
    â€œWhat’s your point?” somebody called out from the back of the room.
    Angry muttering followed. It was, I suspected, directed more at Charles than at the heckler.
    â€œI’ll tell you my point,” Charles said. Despite the obvious opposition in the room, he remained unruffled.
    â€œDog shows were originally intended to be a sporting competition to determine whose dogs were best suited for the purpose for which they’d been produced. That is obviously no longer true. In the show ring, we have retrievers who can’t retrieve, Newfoundlands who’ve never been allowed to swim, and terriers who wouldn’t recognize vermin if it ran between their legs. One by one, the usefulness of our breeds is slipping away. They’re being ruined by what has essentially turned into a canine beauty contest. And that is a damn shame.”
    The audience—all of them dog lovers, and all of them dog show aficionados—was growing mutinous now. People were speaking loudly among themselves. Other voices joined those of the initial heckler.
    Caroline rose, excused herself, slipped from the row of chairs, and left the room.
    Charles, still speaking, didn’t appear to notice.
    â€œAs we look toward the future, we need to recognize that not only are the animal rights groups not going to go away, but they are going to increase their base of support. It would be a show of wisdom on our part to accept the fact that they have some valid points. Rather than dismissing their agenda, we need to find a way to reconcile and to work together with them.”
    â€œNo way!” someone called out.
    A woman I didn’t know stood up. “You want us to reconcile with people who think it’s all right to stage protests by showing up at dog shows, opening crates, and turning defenseless dogs loose to run in traffic? That’s the kind of agenda you think we ought to support?”
    Charles looked to see who had spoken up.
    â€œI’ll admit that in an effort to get our attention, some of their tactics have been extreme. But that doesn’t negate the fact that some of what they’re saying has merit. We are the ones who are to blame for letting dog shows reach their current state. We have work to do, people, and it’s high time that we accepted that fact.”
    Charles may have firmly believed what he was saying, but if he had expected to find even a shred of approval or agreement in this room, he had sadly misjudged his audience. He tried once again to drive home his point.
    â€œIn a perfect, future world the huge dog shows that we know today, the events that are little more than testimonies to