Milford Animal Control – A Recipe For Disaster

I recently lost a somewhat new four-legged best friend, Oscar.

The 13-year-old geriatric canine didn’t get the chance to live out his golden years in comfort and warmth without having to worry about his next meal. He was truly a wonderful laid back old dude happy to hang with you at home or out for a car ride.{{more}}

I think he was so used to being in a car that he thought of the Wrangler as a second home. You see Oscar had formerly lived in an abandoned car with another dog, more than a dozen cats and a human.

I actually met Oscar and Chloe and the human and some of the cats more than a year ago. I was instrumental in relocating most of the animals and assisting the human to better housing.

When Oscar, after being examined by a veterinarian, went back to the human, Chloe moaned loudly for days. My family adopted her and she began the slow process of learning to trust us.

A few months later, I learned that Oscar had been found ‘abandoned’ in the woods. I immediately went down to animal control and formally filled out an adoption application. I was allowed to go look at him where he was isolated in the quarantine section of the municipal animal control facility from which Orange subcontracts animal control duties.

There stood Oscar staring at me one third of the way down the corridor of kennel runs. This portion of the kennel is sectioned off so you can’t even walk up to the kennel and talk to the dogs.

So for the next six months Oscar received minimal care and attention. He was never examined by a veterinarian even though state Animal Control statutes state they must be evaluated after 14 days to determine if quarantine needs to continue or be discontinued.

Under CT General Statutes 22-358c a dog or cat is kept in quarantine if there is a history of biting or a wound of unknown origin. There was no history of either with Oscar.

He was isolated and not allowed to have contact with anyone except the kennel help.

Since he had been living in a car, the chance of coming in contact with a rabid animal was less than my own dogs.

In October, I was finally allowed to adopt him. I asked my friend Mary Beth Stark, owner of Bark Avenue Pethouse, to accompany me to free Oscar. She had been involved in rescuing that carload of animals.

Oscar was put in the car by animal control using a snare pole. He was considered vicious.

When Chloe and Oscar reunited we all shed tears of joy. For the next two-and-a-half months they were inseparable. They slept next to each other, had private conversations (hilarious to witness) and took care of each other.

The first week in January we learned the most horrible news you can hear; that Oscar had an untreatable brain growth. Oscar and I sat in the Wrangler and he consoled me while I cried like a child holding him.

He was just beginning to feel he finally had a warm home and family. He was just beginning to enjoy the good life where you are loved beyond belief and hang out with your best bud and the humans do all the work for you.

Last week, with his humans and Chloe by his side, Oscar took his final ride in the Wrangler. He was surrounded by all the love in the world when he crossed the Rainbow Bridge. We thanked him for allowing us to be part of his life for a short time and wished it could have been for many years instead of the short time it was.

Life hasn’t been fair to Oscar. Through no fault of his own he has been treated with no regard for his health and welfare.

For no conceivable reason, Milford Animal Control decided to isolate him. That practice must cease immediately.

Our companion animals need to be shown respect. To care for them is an honor and a privilege, and time allocated for socialization. Isolation at Milford Animal Control is identical to solitary confinement in a prison.

The town of Orange should start considering whether it should continue to contract animal control services from the city of Milford given what happened to Oscar. Perhaps the issue should be placed on the Board of Selectmen’s agenda for consideration. Milford may call it a shelter, but it operates like a pound.

The opinions in this article are Bridget Albert’s and not necessarily those of this publication.