Finn McRedmond: Yes. A whack-a-mole ban-them-as-they-come-along strategy is not necessarily the end of the world
Pets animate people. Look to Donald Trump’s repetition of claims that Haitian immigrants are eating dogs in Springfield, Ohio. The veracity of the claim aside, Trump was smart to recognise that this was an expedient route to whipping up anti-immigrant sentiment: “the dogs?! Surely not.” For what could be more alien and estranged from American life than eating a beloved, household pet?
This instinct is not localised to America but has been on full display in Ireland in recent weeks, and in England in recent months – where pets have proven themselves to be a strangely motivating force for tranches of the electorate. On October 1st new legislation that prohibits breeding, selling, importing and rehoming of XL bully dogs (an offshoot of the pit bull, already restricted in Ireland) came into effect. Owners have until February to apply for an exemption to keep their XL bully.
The logic behind the move is completely unassailable – the problem is that the second pets are involved, the rational capacities of their owners often go entirely out the window.
The ban comes after a spate of attacks by the breed across the country. One last year in Limerick was fatal; another in Wexford in 2022 saw a boy hospitalised for months. In Britain – where this row has been rumbling on for some time now – a report suggests that since 2021 these dogs have been responsible for 75 per cent of dog-related fatalities. In Britain in 2022, a 65-year-old woman and a toddler were killed by this breed, in separate incidents.
[ Will the ban on XL bully dogs work? Dog wardens have their sayOpens in new window ]
The resistance to the ban comes in two forms. First, there is always a technical dispute about how tricky it is to genetically isolate one dog breed from another. Banning an XL bully will simply see breeds with minor permutations in their DNA emerge as the next popular thing, so the argument goes. To which I want to say: okay, and? It seems a rather defeatist view to accept that we cannot ban obviously and provably (more) violent animals because new violent ones will take their place. A whack-a-mole ban-them-as-they-come-along strategy is not necessarily the end of the world.
Can the State intervene in the minutiae of our lives, down to the genetic make-up of our dogs? Or, must we accept the proliferation of dangerous dogs as a necessary part of an open society?
Then there is the more understandable but no less defensible argument: they are our pets, we love them, they haven’t hurt us! Sure. And a violent XL bully may still be the exception rather than the rule. But when the data points to the increased likelihood that an XL bully, more than – say – a cocker spaniel, will harm someone we have to interrogate where our moral priorities lie.
This argument sits at a strange and pernicious point, where the rights and lives of animals are upheld as more important than the safety of people. It is easy to see how we get here: animals aren’t morally complicated creatures, and it is easier to advocate for their inherent goodness than it is the murky ambiguous human. But that is no excuse, nor does it absolve the animal rights activist from their duty to humans; instead it asks them to declare honestly their priorities (and, to own up to them).
[ Why ‘they’re eating the dogs’ was a stroke of political genius by TrumpOpens in new window ]
This argument is, of course, just another proxy for broader questions of liberalism and tolerance in our society: can the State intervene in the minutiae of our lives, down to the genetic make-up of our dogs? Or, must we accept the proliferation of dangerous dogs as a necessary part of an open society? The libertarian impulses of the latter may be tempting – but with it we have to accept the potentially fatal and gruesome consequences.
Emotive appeals to the loveliness of dogs are well-and-good. But public health policy is not designed – and nor should it be – on woolly appeals to how much we love our pets. The cultivation of a safe and fair public realm requires hard choices.
Finn McRedmond is an Irish Times columnist
Des Groome: No. There is no good reason to breed pets as strong and athletic as these dogs. But it’s not the breed that poses the risk
When I was eight years old I was bitten badly on the face by the neighbouring farmer’s collie. I had run towards the dog inviting it to play and its reaction was instinctive; a deep bite. Territorial aggression. I remember my father scolded me for treating a working sheep dog as a playmate. Lesson learned. Animals were to be treated with respect and never taken for granted.
More than 40 years later I have a facial scar, an extra wrinkle when I smile. In spite of this my appreciation for animals continues to grow. Those who grew up with livestock and lived a farming childhood will relate. In my career as a vet I have been bitten, kicked, scratched, stamped and trampled by animals reacting instinctively when frightened or in pain. Dogs are unpredictable. There is a risk that any dog can become dangerous. The risk increases with big powerful dogs. Not that a large or restricted breed is more likely to attack, but the risk of life-changing injury is greater.
Society’s relationship with dogs has changed. We are having this debate because of pet humanisation, the trend of forming deep emotional bonds with pets and treating them like family members. This bond is rewarding, as dogs often provide unconditional love. However, pet humanisation entails attributing human-like thoughts to pets which can mean that dogs’ actual needs are compromised by well-intentioned and misguided humanisation.
Dogs have moved from the yard to the bedroom and moved from working roles to companionship. With this change, dogs are increasingly living a life at odds with their natural needs. Some dogs therefore are becoming dangerous and the risk to society has increased.
Since all dogs can be dangerous, recognising the dangerous dog phenotype is safer than shaming one breed
XL bully dogs crystallise this risk. A variant of the American bully, they were developed in the 1980s by crossing bull breeds such as the Staffordshire and bulldog. Their phenotype, how their genes physically manifest, has three dangerous elements: skull to muzzle ratio giving a large bite, height over 50cm, a muscular body of 40 to 60kg. Crucially our team of animal handlers at GymDog finds them too strong to safely intervene when they become aggressive. Therein lies the risk. There is no good reason to breed pets as strong and athletic as these dogs. But it’s not the breed that poses the risk, per se. It’s the phenotype, or observable traits.
[ Protest against Government’s new rules to ban XL bully dogsOpens in new window ]
Most dog aggression is the result of instinct. Dogs bite through fear, territorial instinct, resource guarding, among other reasons. Experts speculate about the trigger for a dog attack afterwards when it is too late. Animal behaviour is an inexact science. Our understanding of dog behaviour is still developing. There is disagreement among vets on whether the instinct of modern dogs still resembles the wolf ancestor. The validity of studying the wolf pack as a model for dog behaviour has only recently been discredited. There is even disagreement among vets on the extent to which working dog genetics impact on a puppy’s suitability as a family pet.
I have worked with chihuahuas who bite owners, cocker spaniels who bite vets, German shepherds who attack while on a lead, a malinois who killed another dog and recently a Newfoundland posing a risk to children through being jealous of a Labrador. And yes, XL bullies have shown me the most frightening aggression. But since all dogs can be dangerous, recognising the dangerous dog phenotype is safer than shaming one breed.
Breed-specific legislation is a good starting point. But breed alone is not an indicator of a dangerous dog. Responsible ownership and training of all breeds needs to be enforced. Legally, we must not rely solely on a roll-call of breeds. The phenotype of the dangerous dog needs to be defined in legislation before the next designer breed emerges.
Des Groome is a vet who founded Kildare Vet Surgery. He is MD of GymDog a dog therapy and socialisation resort in county Kildare. He can be contacted on apetslife.ie. His podcast, a_pets_life, is on Spotify and YouTube.
*This article was amended on October 8th to reflect the fact that XL bully owners have until next February to get a certificate of exemption. From February 1st, it will be illegal to own an XL Bully without one
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