Albuquerque Weekly Citizen

Olive Branch Rallies to the Map. Part or Poor Canines.

A stranger passing along the streets of Albuquerque at this season of the year would not go over many squares until convinced of one thing, that 'The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals' has obtained no foothold here, and if he, or she, possesses a spark of humane feeling for brutes or humans, it must burst into a pretty lively flame over the needless cruelty exhibited by the 'dog-catcher' and the lack of compassion exhibited by the crowds that quickly gather at the first shriek of terror and agony wrung from the heart of some poor, inoffensive, helpless 'doggie.' The very existence of the catcher argues despicable cowardice in somebody: the fact that he exists and unmolested, plies his bloody, barbarous trade argues more. In the cities of the east where want and squalor and every form of misery fester and fatten in the putrid air, where it were a mercy, perhaps, to kill, there may be a shadow of justification for the law that is enforced by heroic measures on the part of mayors and councils. But here, where God's pure air is unpolluted by noisome exhalations from swill, disease laden ground, there is no excuse to deprive a dog of his liberty and who knows? pursuit of happiness. And the gaunt Pueblos who hunger and thirst here goes mad, and that he, if his ears were searched for rabies, his empty stomach supplied by a pale meal and his tiny, trembling, fear-stricken heart quieted by a kind word we'd be found as safe as any dog born in Albuquerque. Dog catching from its cold blooded, unnecessary it is peculiarly reprehensible. Every day of the seven the streets are filled with teams from neighboring ranches, and from far beyond river and mountain Mexicans and Americans alike, on foot or in Sierra cabin to the dogs their truest, trustiest guardian and friend and he becomes a part of the family life, sharing the best and the worst in cottage, but faithful ever. These watchers accompany their masters and once separated from them they grow frightened and bewildered and there is the catcher's chance of which he is not slow to avail himself. The American understands the law and knows pretty well where to find his pet if he hasn't been dragged to death over the streets or murdered in the pound and goes after him, hurries out of town and damns the people generally. But the Mexican accepts his suerte, bemoans the loss of his buen perro, but probably is entirely ignorant of the unjust law which has deprived him of valuable property. If the man who has come in here to spend his money and add to the prosperity of the town, loves or values his dog sufficiently to protect him he is forced to pay an outrageous license fee for the few hours he may be in town. Ranch dogs don't go mad and they ought to be respected and ranchmen do get mad and they too ought to be respected, and Albuquerque ought to be far enough ahead of the 'effete east' to be able to teach her how to be both just and humane.

Olive Essie Bite.