In Newsweek National News comes the indictment of Michael Vick and the cruel activities he's brought into the headlines. It has surfaced gruesome, stomach churning allegations into the headlines of this most violent and deadly sport of Pit bull fighting and how they are conditioned. Yes! I said 'conditioned'. Many may be surprised it's not born into the dogs nature, but trained or conditioned to fight or be elliminated. Read on and learn.
An Ugly World
Michael Vick’s indictment on dogfighting charges has brought the cruel activity into the headlines this week. But animal-rights activists say the practice is nothing new, and is, in fact, growing in popularity.Karen Tam / AP (left); Christopher Barth / Gloucester County Times-AP
Canine Abuse: Dogs trained for fighting (like this one confiscated by animal control officials) can be worth thousands of dollars to their owners, who sometimes sell videotapes (left) of the bloody matches
WEB EXCLUSIVE
By Steve Tuttle
Newsweek
July 18, 2007 - Minnie, a brown pit bull-boxer mix with white feet, was tied to a tree when she was a puppy and repeatedly attacked by other dogs as part of a dogfight-training exercise in Louisville, Ky. She was rescued after her abusers fled and left her for dead, her torn flesh riddled with infections. Today, a year and a half later, Minnie has a huge saddle-shaped scar under the fur on her back, and she’s terrified of tall men and large dogs. Her adoptive parents, Megan and Greg Crabb, spent weeks nursing her back to health. “I cried every time I had to clean her,” Megan recounted to NEWSWEEK. “She was covered in deep bite marks.”
Most fighting dogs aren’t so lucky. If they don’t die of injuries suffered in the ring or get killed by their owners, they’re often euthanized by local authorities because they’re considered too dangerous to re-enter society. The ones that do survive breed more fighting dogs, and their puppies enter an ugly world where survival of the fittest is not just a cliché.
Tami Chappell / Reuters
Accused: Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick has been indicted on charges related to a dogfighting ring in Virginia
This week’s federal indictment of NFL superstar Michael Vick, complete with stomach-turning allegations, has brought this blood sport to the front pages, but it’s really nothing new: organized fighting has been around as long as domesticated dogs. (Vick, who has not pled in the case, is scheduled to appear in court on July 26.) Dog fighting is illegal in all 50 states and a felony in every one but Idaho and Wyoming, but no federal agency tracks national arrest figures. Animal advocacy groups and law enforcement gauge its popularity through media reports and court filings, Web activity, the number of publications—like “Match Night” and “Sporting Dog Journal”—and the simple fact that many urban dog shelters are flooded with pit bulls, by far the most popular fighting breed. According to Mark Kumpf, a member of the National Illegal Animal Fighting Task Force, dogfighting is increasing nationwide. “It’s a multibillion-dollar industry,” Kumpf says, “and it’s partly because it’s glamorized in the entertainment industry in hip-hop, rap, and professional sports.”
In 2006, pet-abuse.com found 122 suspected dogfighting cases nationwide (114 with pit bulls), but that number only represents a fraction of cases. Many police departments don’t report dogfighting, and many cities don’t announce that they have confiscated dogs because owners have been known to break in and steal them back. Wayne Pacelle, president of the Humane Society of the United States, says at least 40,000 people are actively involved in the industry, not including spectators. He calls it the modern day equivalent of the fights in the Roman Colosseum: “It comes from the same dark place in the human spirit.”
One reason it’s growing is because modern technology makes it easy to engage in. Anyone so inclined can log on to Amazon.com and pick up the book “Dogs of Velvet and Steel,” which critics say offers guidance for dogfighting trainers. It’s out of print and highly coveted so a used copy could set you back as much as $1,800. Or you can purchase a copy of “The Dog Pit” at BarnesandNoble.com, a reprint of an 1888 book that explains “How to Breed and Train Fighting Dogs.” There are Web sites with information on fighting strategies and on how to avoid law enforcement, as well as underground videos and DVDs that get passed around by participants.
Pit bull fans howl at the assumption that every pit bull is trained to fight and argue that authorities should “punish the deed, not the breed.” But many pit aficionados like the hard reputation of the dogs. Professional boxer Roy Jones Jr. says he does not enter the pit bulls he owns in fights, but likes studying their moves. “I like the nature of the dogs and how they are cool and calm until you mess with them,” he says. Antwan Patton, a.k.a “Big Boi” of the popular group Outkast, raises pit bulls at Pitfall Kennel in Fayetteville, Ga. “They’re the best dogs because they’re loyal to a fault. I would never hurt one,” he says. His kennel’s Web site makes it clear that “no dogs will be sold for illegal or cruel purposes.”
Erin Patton (no relation) a sports marketing executive who’s worked with many prominent athletes, says African-American men, in particular those growing up in lower-income areas, have always owned pit bulls to deter violence. “In the hood you can’t always afford a Brinks security system … but a pit bull served the same purpose.”
Even though the brightest media focus is on prominent athletes like Vick, it’s wrong to generalize from the specific. Old dogfighting lithographs show gentlemen dressed in their Sunday best, but today it could just as easily be the country guy down South as the gangster wannabe in the big city. Street fighting can involve many types of breeds and is much less ritualized than the so-called professional game, whose boosters look down their noses at the unorganized brawls.
For a behind-the-scenes look inside the ritualized pro world, NEWSWEEK interviewed “Fat Dog,” 45, who didn’t want to use his real name because dogfighting is illegal. He raises pit bulls in the low country near Savannah, Ga., and says he can trace his dogs’ fighting bloodlines back to the 1800s. “I have attended about 50 professional matches in my life, and I have only seen two or three dogs die. They have every opportunity to quit just like a boxer does,” he says. He claims that “90 percent” of dogfight matches don’t end in death because of the money invested: “If you lose a good dog, that’s $3,500 and then the litter you won’t have.”
The last match Fat Dog attended was in Sleepy Hollow, N.C., and there were only about 20 people there. The structure was built just for dogfighting, complete with bleachers and a concession stand. Modeled after boxing, there were three matches with timed rounds, an under-card and the big stars in the finale.
Leading up to the battle the dogs spend about six weeks in “the keep,” or training period, according to police who have investigated dogfighting. Owners use expensive treadmills to get the dogs in fighting trim, and some use the carrot and stick approach—the carrot being a live cat suspended in front of the dog to keep it running.
After the bets are made, the fight takes place in a walled ring with a dirt or carpet floor. “Face your dogs!” is called out and the handlers wait to hear “Release!” The battle is on until one dog fails to cross the “scratch” line or is injured too severely to continue. Broken limbs are common.
If the dogs lock up, their jaws are pried open by a ”break stick.” Sometimes a dog will “fang” itself, or bite through its own upper lip. The handler will stick a pencil in the dog’s mouth and stick it under the lip to free the tooth, Fat Dog says.
An average fight lasts less than 45 minutes, and fighters agree ahead of time to a specific weight and sex of the competitors. Because both males and females are trained to fight, breeding can be tricky. Some dog owners use what is called a “rape box” to secure the female, which essentially means tying her to a barrel until the male has mated.
Despite his past association with fighting, Fat Dog says he hopes it will eventually end. “I don’t like the bad name it gives pit bulls—if you’re an owner you might as well live with Satan or be a child molester.”
With Allison Samuels
Michael Vick’s Shameful Scandal
The superstar deserves all the protections of the law. But that doesn’t mean he has the right to remain Atlanta’s starting quarterback.
WEB-EXCLUSIVE COMMENTARY
By Mark Starr
July 18, 2007 - Say what you want about Pacman Jones, nobody has ever accused him of being involved in the hanging, drowning and electrocution of dogs.
That distinction now belongs to the Atlanta Falcons quarterback, Michael Vick, who was indicted Tuesday on federal charges relating to dogfighting enterprises dating back to his rookie season, 2001. If convicted, Vick could face up to six years in prison, as long as his NFL career to date, and $350,000 in fines.
Vick is not the first NFL superstar and team leader to face serious criminal charges. Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis and two of his buddies were charged with murder after the 2000 Super Bowl in Atlanta, when a street brawl left two men dead outside a nightclub. But the case was settled—Lewis pleaded guilty to misdemeanor obstruction of justice—months before the next football season began and was back in uniform when training camp opened.
While it was a tragic crime—doubly tragic in that Lewis’s plea deal was the only conviction in the case—a crime arising out of a street brawl is not as incomprehensible to the average person as this grisly and gruesome array of savage misdeeds directed at helpless animals. During the course of this investigation, I read a great deal about a burgeoning subculture of dogfighting in this country. But we have witnessed other burgeoning cultures in this country, like crack and crystal meth, and growth has never been confused with acceptable.
Far too acceptable though is our culture of entitlement for athletes. And far too often our athletic elite get to cruise through life, using fame and money to skirt the rules and laws that govern the behavior of the rest of us. And on those rare occasions when they are called to account for their behavior, they appear willfully ignorant of what is going on in their lives. Barry Bonds never knew that what he was swallowing was illegal steroids. Pacman Jones had no idea what ensued when his posse made a chaotic exit from a Las Vegas strip club and a club employee was shot. And Vick had no idea his property was being used—apparently for training, breeding and staged events—in a dogfighting racket.
Vick, as an NFL spokesman was quick to point out, has not been convicted of anything and "all concerned should allow the legal process to determine the facts." Moreover, it is not clear whether the NFL will regard Vick as a first-time offender under its new conduct policy; if so, it is possible he will not be subject to disciplinary measures and could be allowed to report to training camp next week. The Atlanta Falcons find themselves with a bunch of terrible options. To bring out the best in Vick, the Falcons hired a new coach, Bobby Petrino, who came out of the University of Louisville with a reputation for successfully developing quarterbacks. To reaffirm the Falcons’ commitment to Vick, they traded his highly regarded backup, Matt Schaub, to Houston this past off-season. Right now the alternative to Vick is Joey Harrington, already a flop in two previous NFL cities.
Vick has long been a favorite son of Falcons owner Arthur Blank. He arrived in the NFL out of Virginia Tech, the first pick in the entire draft, and despite three so-so seasons of largely unrealized potential, the Falcons rewarded him with a staggering 10-year, $130 million deal (including a whopping $37 million in signing bonuses). After three more seasons, "unrealized" may still be the operative word. No quarterback in NFL history has ever run the ball as well as Vick. But running quarterbacks tend to have a limited NFL shelf life along with limited success. The Falcons would prefer Vick’s running to complement his passing attack. And his passing game has been consistently sub-par; over the past three seasons, he has ranked 20th, 25th and 21st in the league. That flop who now backs him up, Harrington, ranked 29th, 27th and 22nd during those same years. In other words, without his golden legs, Vick is essentially Harrington.
An even more telling comparison is with Drew Brees, who entered the league the same year. The San Diego Chargers held the first pick in that 2001 draft and, even though they needed a quarterback, they traded the first choice to Atlanta and then drafted Brees with the first pick in the second round. In his six seasons, Vick has played 74 games and completed 53.8 percent of his passes and thrown for 11,505 yards, an average of 6.7 per attempt, as well as 71 touchdowns. Brees, in 75 games with San Diego and now New Orleans, has completed 62.7 percent of his passes for 16,766 yards, an average of 7.1 yards per attempt. And he has thrown 106 TD passes.
Maybe this would have been the year when Vick, with a passing attack better geared to his skills, ascended to the level where his salary suggests he belongs. But it is hard to imagine, with an indictment hanging over him in this particularly sordid matter, how he could perform at a higher level while commanding the respect of his teammates. And then there is the question of the hometown fans. Fans have been known to put blinders on when it comes to its favorites. We saw that earlier this month in San Francisco, with the loving reception that Barry Bonds received. But Bonds is only suspected of cheating at a game. Vick is accused of being complicit in grotesquely inhumane acts. Are Falcon fans willing to embrace this man as the face of their football team?
Perhaps more important, is Arthur Blank. Blank, who has been a highly regarded NFL owner, has reportedly been out of the country and hasn’t commented publicly since the indictment of his star player. And while some may view the Vick case as a test of the owner’s loyalty, it would seem to be a test of other principles as well. The NFL, not to mention Blank’s Home Depot empire, are posited as mainstream American businesses. And there is not a remotely mainstream note in this sordid affair. Vick is almost certain to see all his endorsement deals—Nike, Coca-Cola, Rawlings and others—disappear. While he deserves all the legal protections our society offers, none guarantee him the right to keep his job as the Falcons’ starting quarterback. Moreover, with Vick facing prison time if convicted, maintaining him as the team’s centerpiece may be a rather imprudent investment in the team’s future.
It may not be fair to bring up a man’s mother in this matter. But years ago, I happened to see a remarkable documentary called "Lemonade Stories" that featured successful entrepreneurs and their relationships with their mothers. Blank and his mother were one of the featured subjects (as was Virgin king Richard Branson and my brother, Billy Starr). Molly Blank was a remarkable woman, who took over the family business, a small pharmacy, after her husband died when Arthur was a teenager and transformed it into a multimillion-dollar wholesale business. She was a feisty, opinionated, engaging and high-minded woman. Recalling that film, I have some notion of how she might feel about this Michael Vick affair. Now it’s the son’s call.
Going for the Throat
Though illegal, dog fighting continues to draw crowds hungry for the sight of blood and the gambling thrill. A law enforcement officer takes us inside this underground world.
Joe Fudge / AP (left); Ric Feld / AP
Removed: This dog was taken out of a house owned by Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick.
WEB EXCLUSIVE
By Steve Tuttle
Newsweek
June 4, 2007 - The recent discovery of dozens of dogs and dog-fighting paraphernalia at a house owned by NFL superstar Michael Vick has drawn much media attention to this centuries-old blood sport. Illegal in all 50 states, dog fighting still has a loyal underground following. Millions of dollars are wagered annually on the outcomes of these outlaw matches, and the Humane Society of the United States estimates that participants and spectators number in the tens of thousands.
NEWSWEEK’s Steve Tuttle talked to Detective C. R. Beals of the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department to better understand just exactly what goes on at one of these gory fights. Beals, who has focused on this type of crime for over a decade, has been an expert witness in a number of dog-fighting cases and is his department’s blood sport authority, which also includes cockfighting.
Excerpts: NEWSWEEK:
What happens at a typical organized dog fight?
C. R. Beals: There are three basic types of dog fighting. There are the professional dog fights—I hate to use the word professional and dog fighting in the same sentence. There are the hobbyists, or the persons who aspire to be professional dog fighters, and then there are the street-level fighters, the gangbangers who torture their dogs into being mean and they’ll fight anything.
What about the professionals?
On the professional level it's very well organized. The secrecy is very, very heavy. They will fly dogs across the United States. The matches are set up either by phone or by Internet and the meet can be a neutral place for both parties. The dogs are fought in a very strict weight class. If your dog doesn't come in at the weight it’s supposed to for the match, you forfeit the entry fee, which can be pretty heavy sometimes.
At a fight back East several years back the police took over $500,000 from the participants and spectators there. Let’s be honest, if I'm willing to put my dog on a plane to fly to a neutral spot to fight your dog, I'm not going to do it just for grins.
Describe the start of a fight.
The handlers say, “Face your dogs!” At that point, the dogs are turned around and faced toward each other. There is what they call the scratch line, and when the dog crosses that line he is “scratched,” meaning he has full intent to get involved in the fight. The dogs are released from the corner, they “scratch,” and then engage. At times the impact of the dogs blocking up is audible, you can hear them collide with one another. It's unbelievable. There is no collar, nothing. They're completely void of any type of control or restraint.
Steve Helber / AP
Vick blamed family members for taking advantage of his generosity after police found evidence of dog fighting at a home owned by the pro football player
How do you know who wins?
If a dog refuses to scratch, or if the dog jumps out of the ring or refuses to fight, it's over. If a dog gets a lucky shot, if you get a dog that zips in and hits just right and takes out a jugular, the dog is all done. If you get a dog with a broken limb or a broken leg, it’s over. Broken limbs are common. You just see how much punishment the other dog will take until he just gives up or he's incapacitated so he can't fight any more.
How long can a fight last?
It varies; it's like a boxing match. But there are timed rounds and they have rest periods and go at it again.
How big do the crowds get?
For security reasons, the crowds are kept as small as possible.
What are the venues like?
The venue can be anything, anywhere. It can be a barn, a commercial building. I have actually seen where they have gone into a housing tract and they broke into a new home and used one of the rooms for a pit. It can be any place that will afford the secrecy they need to prevent getting apprehended.
How are the dogs isolated from the people at a fight?
In the professional world, a man-eater, or a dog that will bite other people, cannot be tolerated and will most likely be destroyed. There are two handlers, either the owner or designated handler, and a referee in the pit with the dogs. The dog has to concentrate on the other dog.
Don’t they have a wall?
They do separate and contain the dogs, because they lock up and start tumbling around. The walls are usually 18 to 25 feet, round or square, and usually two and a half to four feet high. They use plyboard, hay bales, any type of barrier. The preference is dirt floor but they also use carpeting to allow dogs to get good traction.
How do they separate them if they’re locked up?
They use what they call a “breaking stick.” It's a misnomer that the pit bull's jaw locks, but they have such hellacious tenacity that once they get a hold they are not going to let go. Both handlers will have a breaking stick in their pocket, nine to 15 inches long with a flat point on one end of it. It’s generally something rigid made of wood or white nylon like cutting boards or plastic. They pry the jaws apart and pull the dogs back to the corner and sponge them like a boxer.
How many dogs are killed in the fights?
Most likely the dogs will be stopped short of death, however there are a number of other things that go beyond that and it just depends on how good of a vet the owner is. You can't go to the neighborhood vet with a dog that you fought because you’d be turned in. Most of them practice their own style of veterinary medicine. Dogs die of infection, they die of shock after the fight, or they're injured so bad they just expire. The actual death in the ring is probably not as often as one might think.
What do they do with dogs that aren’t good fighters?
They think, why waste dog food on them. We’re talking dollars and cents. If it isn’t going to make a yield there’s no reason to feed it. That sounds cold, but I’m being bluntly honest. I have actually gone to a place where one of the ways to get rid of a dog was simply attaching a raw electrode to the dog’s tongue and a raw electrode to his testicles and then plugging it into the wall. That’s sick.
How do they train the dogs?
These dogs are conditioned, not trained. That entails such things as treadmills, or cat-mills—they'll either use a caged cat or a rabbit. They’ll simply tie a cat or rabbit to a hot walker like for a horse—it’s a big thing that looks like a merry go round with spokes on it. They’ll tie a dead cat or a live cat to one of the spokes and tie the dog to one of the other spokes and let him tug that around all day. They use weight training where they have the dogs pull weighted sleds. Then they have the spring pole, which is simply either a tree or a large pole with a spring or a cable or tire on it and the dog will jump up and grab it. He will actually hang on to it and bounce and have his own personal tug of war.
What is the “keep?”
The keep is the intense conditioning period in prep for the fight. During that period of time the dog is handled regularly, exercised regularly. His diet is monitored, he is given vitamins, and his weight is monitored.
What is the rape box?
These dogs are trained to be nasty towards another dog, so consequently if you’re going to breed you don't want a female that’s in heat tearing up your stud. So you put her in a rape box, which means you basically tie her to a barrel. Then you put him in there with a muzzle on and he does his thing and leaves.
How do bets get placed?
There will be an entry fee into the thing. That comprises the purse and the winner gets that. Then the owners of the dogs will have side bets between themselves. They'll probably cover some action with other people in the audience, and there will be side bets between people in the audience. Sometimes they take outside action and actually film the fight, so you can view it at a later date if you disagree about how your money was won or lost and you weren't among the chosen few who attended.
Are the fights moving away from pit bulls to other breeds?
You hear that from time to time. Over history there have been a number of dogs tried—the Shar-Pei was raised as a pit dog but now they're a trendy pet. But pound for pound they always come back to the little pit bull terrier because they're more bang for your buck, they're the best things going. They’re small, they’re compact, and they work well for that kind of scenario. The only reason for dog fighting is gambling, period. It's just like cock fighting. It's strictly a gambling scenario, nothing more. They raised Rhodesian Ridgebacks for fighting; Rottweilers are something you’d see on the street level.
How big is this subculture?
The level that garners the most attention is street level because it's in your face and it's practiced by gangs. They'll use anything that has four legs, preferably if it looks like a pit bull, but they’ll use Rots or anything else. But professional dog fighting is also there, and it's very, very hard to stumble on. It's real hard to say exactly how big it is, but it is prevalent.
How do you catch these guys?
We use informants, we use people in the neighborhood that call in, we use something as simple as somebody driving by who saw a bunch of dogs staked out. People love animals and when they see something that doesn't look right and they're likely to tell someone and it filters back to us. There are informants, people who didn't think they got a fair shake at a fight who will turn in folks.
Why do you think professional athletes would be into something like this?
I will be very honest—and I hate to say it—but there have been law-enforcement officers involved, professional athletes, professional people, blue-collar people, gangster people. It's a mixed bag.
Where do they house these dogs?
Wherever they can. Sometimes warehouses, garages, sometimes “on the yard” as they refer to it. That means they drive a car axle into the ground, put a piece of chain on the axle, and put a dog on the end of the chain, and that’s where the dog lives.
Is it bigger than cockfighting?
I wouldn't say which is largest; it depends on where you are geographically in the country. It's a gambling "sport," and wherever they can do either one they will.
How do they keep the fight locations secret?
They use countersurveillance—or as we call it dry cleaning—they use background checks, phone calls. There’s secrecy, mystique. You might make an arrangement for a fight and they say show up at the Howdy Doody Motel at 6 o’clock Wednesday evening on the 24th. And when you go there and you check in pretty soon you get a phone call in your room that says go to this corner. A car will pick you up, take you someplace else, and then you’ll be offloaded out of the car and onto a bus or something. It's very, very cloak and dagger.
I guess they feel like they have to do all that?
Yes, because there are people who are animal lovers who would do everything up to and including put a bullet into some of these clowns.
Dog Fighting
Photo Gallery: Beastly Battles