WBAL TV morning news just reported on a resolution to a dog shooting and the raid of a rowhouse used for dog fighting. Both stories are in the Baltimore Sun, and I previously wrote about the dog shooting and controversy for The Truth About Guns.

Federal officer gets probation in dog park shooting of Bear-Bear

A federal officer, more of a security guard, really, named Shepherd had released his german shepherd into a community dog run. Bear-Bear, the siberian husky above, challenged the shepherd. Shepherd reacted to what was probably dog play by shooting the husky in the hip with his 9mm Glock service weapon. The hollow point round severely wounded the dog, and Bear-Bear soon died. Authorities initially dismissed the case as no big deal, but Quail Run residents considered such a callow use of a firearm less than a hundred yards from homes with children to be a very big deal. Animal groups protested the needless killing of the dog. Under public pressure, authorities found some charges for Shepherd after all.

They say that when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. What concerns me is whether the same is true for firearms.

Police investigate suspected dog fighting in W. Baltimore

On the third floor of the house, in a room police believe was the dog fighting room because of the amount of blood on the walls and the mattresses present, police found a dog tied to a radiator. The dog, a small male pit bull, had multiple scars on his face and his teeth had been removed, according to the report.

They also found a dead pit bull and several puppies. These were not fighting dogs, though - they were mugs thrown in the ring as confidence-building opponents for the real fighters. That's why the teeth were removed. Other dogs' teeth had been filed down. WBAL emphasized that the seized dogs were not dangerous and urged viewers to adopt them.

I think the real animals are outside the ring.

Update: I wasn't going to pile on Michael Vick, but the LA Times has this:

Dog owner can't forgive Michael Vick

On this night, like many other nights, Mel was waiting for his owners to take him outside, but he couldn't alert them with a bark. He doesn't bark. He won't bark. The bark has been beaten out of him. ... Every time the 4-year-old dog meets a stranger, he goes into convulsions. He staggers back into a wall for protection. He lowers his face and tries to hide. New faces are not new friends, but old terrors.

 

...

It turns out that Mel had been a bait dog, thrown into the ring as a sort of sparring partner for the tougher dogs, sometimes even muzzled so he wouldn't fight back, beaten daily to sap his will. Mel was under constant attack, and couldn't fight back, and the deep cuts were visible on more than just his fur.

"You could see that Michael Vick went to a lot of trouble to make Mel this way," Hunter said. "When people pet him, I tell them, pet him from under his chin, not over his head. He lives in fear of someone putting their hand over his head."

So they have a name: Bait dogs. Mel is the black dog below.