Don’t be fooled by the fishing boats bobbing
in the shimmering harbor, or the wholesome-looking malt shop, or the
good schools, leafy lanes and well-tended homes and lawns. “This
place is as un-American as you can get,” Mr. Stein said. His
disenchantment with Northport — and with suburban life in general
— boils down to one thing: the electric fence, an invisible
dog-confinement system that delivers warning signals and shocks through
a special collar when a dog approaches a property’s
edge.
Mr. Stein, who owns a German shepherd, said he installed such a fence
last year because of the village’s rules regulating real fences.
But instead of simply confining his dog, the electric shocks from
the fence may have caused Aurora, Mr. Stein’s German shepherd,
to attack two local dogs who had strayed onto the property.
Local authorities seized the dog and deemed her dangerous.
After a village court hearing this week that stretched past midnight
— complete with expert testimony on electric fences and dog
behavior, and an ominous shout from a neighbor that “your dog’s
going down tonight” — Mr. Stein said he has little choice
but to euthanize his pet.
Electric fences have grown increasingly popular throughout suburbia,
along with dog-attack lawsuits and anti-fence regulations. Some towns,
including Munsey Park on Long Island and Asbury Park, N.J., have considered
banning the fences in recent years over concerns that they create
a false confidence in pet control.
To Mr. Stein, the proliferation of electric fences
is an Orwellian indicator of the scary state of the American suburb,
the crescendo of what he sees as a spreading suburban virus: stifling
over-regulation, petty bickering, cliques, favoritism and small-town
politics. Mr. Stein, 48, moved into his house on a corner parcel on
Ocean Avenue in 1999. He bought Aurora last year for $1,000. Since
Northport, a village of 7,600 in Suffolk County, requires corner houses
to get special permits for fences so as not to block views, Mr. Stein
bought an electric version from Fido’s But last month, two neighbors
complained to village officials that Aurora attacked their dogs as
they walked near or on Mr. Stein’s property, leading to a failure-to-leash
summons. Dog pound officials and Northport police officers arrived
at Mr. Stein’s house on Oct. 27, and met Mr. Stein, still in
his pajamas, as he returned from dropping his children at school.
He said the police refused to show him the court
order to seize Aurora, so he refused to turn over his dog. The police
chief said they did hand over the paperwork. Mr. Stein locked Aurora
in his car and the police arrested him and took him in handcuffs —
and pajamas — to the precinct house in town, where he was held
in a holding cell for four hours and spent much of that time meditating
in the lotus position.
He left with several summonses, including one
for having a dog off leash and another for obstructing the seizing
of the dog. Officials had a tougher time with Aurora. They removed
her shock collar, but had difficulty getting her off the premises.
The officials finally removed her and put her in a local dog shelter,
no visitors allowed.
It was not Mr. Stein’s first problem
with a pet. In July, 2004, a resident of nearby Centerport filed a
complaint claiming that a previous dog he owned had attacked his dog,
a matter that was settled when Mr. Stein agreed to get rid of the
dog. With a ponytail and an outspoken manner,
Mr. Stein said he has been unpopular with village
officials ever since he publicly led a group that successfully opposed
the opening of a new bank in town.Mr. Stein said his previous
dog died from antifreeze poisoning, and now, with the Aurora story
making the local paper, The Northport Observer, “I’m public
enemy No. 1,” he said.
Mayor George Doll of Northport would not comment except to say that
the Northport police enforced the law correctly. Northport’s
police chief, Eric Bruckenthal, said the action taken against Mr.
Stein was not because of bias, but simply because he broke the law.
The court hearing started at 9 p.m. Monday and ended at 1:30 a.m.
Tuesday, when Paul H. Senzer, the village justice, officially designated
Aurora a “ dangerous dog.” Mr. Senzer agreed with testimony
from the dog behavioral specialist and found that Aurora most likely
had been shocked by the electric fence and attacked the neighbors’
dogs to redirect the pain. He said Mr. Stein could reclaim her only
if he met a strict list of provisions, including erecting a kennel
and fence, hiring a dog behaviorist, and taking out a $100,000 insurance
policy covering any future attacks. “Forget it. I might as well
put the dog to sleep,” Mr. Stein said as he walked out of the
tiny courtroom in Village Hall on Main Street. Interviewed later on
Tuesday, he said he had been unable to find an insurance company to
sell such a policy, or get village permits for such a fence.
“The judge raised the bar so high that I can never get the dog
back,” he said. “He’s effectively killing the dog
without having the guts to actually order her killed.” At the
hearing, Mr. Stein, who said he had argued cases in 26 states and
before the New York Court of Appeals, went with the electric-fence
defense. He pointed out that there are no sidewalks in front of his
house, so passers-by frequently walk their dogs on the edge of his
property, which he called “a blatant violation of Constitutional
rights of private property.” He said he should not be penalized
for what happens to trespassers. Mr. Stein called to the witness stand
an employee of Fido’s Fence, who testified that Aurora would
never have bolted through the invisible fence, so the other dogs must
have crossed the line and aroused her, noting that German shepherds
are a territorial breed.
Jeff Kolbjornsen, a dog trainer, testified
that he inspected Aurora at the pound — pinching her, pulling
her tail, stepping on her paws and putting her in a choke hold —
and found her gentle. But, he said, a shock from an electric fence
could have caused “aberrant behavior” and prompted Aurora
to “redirect the frustration or shock of the pain to another
animal nearby.” Mr. Stein told the judge that when he got the
fence, “There’d be no way to know that this other side
of the equation existed.”
Now he wants to move, maybe to New York City or down South. “Who
wants to live in suburbia?” he asked. “I’m going
to find a place where my dog and I can be free, because there’s
no freedom in the village of Northport.”
_http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/09/nyregion/09fence.html_
(http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/09/nyregion/09fence.html
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