MSU College of Law News

Dog Fighting Rumors Persist
But officials say the underground blood sport is hard to track
Dubuque Telegraph Herald
August 22, 2007
By M.D. Kittle and Matt Ryno

His face is a mass of deep cuts, as are his shoulders and neck. Both of his front legs are broken.

But Billy Bear isn't about to quit. Any semblance of passivity, of gentleness, was long driven out of a pit bull -- trained to be a killer.

At the referee's signal, his master releases him, and unable to support himself on his front legs, he slides on his chest across the blood and urine stained carpet, propelled by his good hind legs, toward the opponent who rushes to meet him. Driven by instinct, intensive training and love for the owner who has brought him to this moment, Billy Bear drives himself painfully into the other dog's charge.

Less than 20 minutes later, rendered useless by the other dog, Billy Bear lies spent beside his master, his stomach constricted with pain. He turns his head back toward the ring, his eyes glazed searching for a last look at the other dog as he receives a bullet in his brain.

The story of Billy Bear, told by C.M. Brown, in Atlanta Magazine, colors the pages of Dog Fighting Detailed Discussion, a comprehensive report published two years before the nation knew of NFL quarterback Michael Vick's reported dalliance in the illegal blood sport.

Compiled by the Michigan State University College of Law, the report addresses the prevalence, culture and criminality of a long-established American diversion -- documenting what is a secret, underground world that is nearly impossible to penetrate.

Now that Atlanta Falcons star Michael Vick awaits the terms of his plea deal for his role in a reported dogfighting ring, those who have pushed for tougher penalties express hope that the spotlight will shine on the shadowy crime.

"The Michael Vick case has brought to the broad attention an activity that was underground," said David Favre, professor of law at the Michigan State University College of Law. "Hopefully more research and funding will be provided to police departments so they can go after these people."

Quiet crime
The problem is tracking dogfighting rings, which experts say range from small players looking to see who has the toughest dog to the big-time operators, like Vick's outfit, heavily financed and organized across state lines.

"It's very, very underground. We don't have much to go on," said Jane McCall, executive director of the Dubuque Regional Humane Society.

McCall said her organization has received reports and rumors of dogfighting in recent months, but proving illegal activity remains the sticking point.

Recently, the humane society took in a puppy from a woman in a neighboring county. McCall said the woman claimed she got the dog from "someone who saved it from someone who was going to use it for bait" in pit bull training sessions.

And that's how it seems to go, according to law enforcement officials. Hints, allegations, suspected activity, but few arrests and fewer convictions.

"We never were able to put anything together that we had dogfighting occurring in our locale," said Assistant Dubuque Police Chief Terry Tobin. "We heard rumors of people maybe training dogs for fighting in other areas, but we've never been able to confirm them."

Tobin said most of the reported incidents come from outside the city. McCall asserts there was quite a bit of dogfighting in downtown Dubuque a few years ago, but the criminal activity was broken up by community policing efforts. Tobin said he can't recall of a confirmed case in Dubuque.

Dubuque County Chief Deputy Don Vrotsos said the Sheriff's Department, too, has only heard rumors and allegations of dogfighting in the county. In Wisconsin, Lafayette County Sheriff Scott Pedley, said his department has recorded no cases of animal fighting of any kind.

Culture of blood sport
While he admits the activity is tough to track, Tom Colvin asserts animal fighting is more popular in Iowa than ever.

"We have every indication that dogfighting and cockfighting is happening in the state of Iowa," said Colvin, executive director of the Animal Rescue League of Iowa, based in Des Moines.

Colvin, who also serves as president of the Iowa Federation of Humane Societies, could not provide statistics, but he said rural areas of the state are far more likely to host animal fighting. "It just seems it's pretty easy to find a barn somewhere in the middle of the cornfield and make it very difficult for law enforcement to come across," he said.

Nationally, the Humane Society of the United States estimates there are at least 40,000 dogfighters in America, though that number seems to underestimate the epidemic of street fighting in urban areas, according to the Michigan State College of Law report. In 2003, the city of Chicago alone recorded and responded to 1,093 animal fighting complaints, according to the study.

Bite in the bark
Iowa was one of the last states to make animal fighting a felony. It did so in 2004. "We are almost in our infancy in the state as far as law enforcement of animal fighting in the state," said Colvin, of the Animal Rescue League of Iowa.

Today, animal fighting is classified as a Class D felony, which means some pretty serious jail time for anyone convicted of the crime. In Iowa, anyone involved in procuring contest devices like spurs or treadmills to induce and train animals to fight, those who promote animal fighting contests or transport animals to events are subject to the charge. Spectators can be charged with an aggravated misdemeanor.

"I think we are going to start seeing more arrests because of the felony status," Colvin said. Animal rights activists like McCall say the Vick case did a big favor to the cause of stamping out dogfighting, but they also worry that the media attention will somehow lead some to believe the blood sport is "cool."

"I think it did bring it to the attention of the public, and (the case) has brought out the horrible thing that it is," McCall said.