"Sophie"

After being rescued from a Las Vegas shelter, Sophie became a therapy dog.*

Above and beyond their place as family companions and in traditional service occupations, dogs in New Mexico serve in an ever-widening spectrum of therapeutic roles. The physical and emotional benefits to humans that come from relationships with dogs are now recognized and utilized by psychiatric facilities, assisted living centers, hospitals, schools and even prisons.

Today, dogs contribute more to the welfare of individuals and the community than perhaps any other time in the history of the human-dog bond. Additionally, over the past 3 decades, increased awareness of the importance of humane care and control of dogs, the enactment and enforcement of leash laws, and dog bite prevention education, have all been instrumental in drastically reducing the number of reported dog-related injuries in New Mexico and throughout the nation.

* Sophie, a Rottweiler, is owned by Michele Mauldin and visits residents at the Casa Arena Blanca Nursing Center in Alamogordo.

People in New Mexico clearly value their relationship with dogs

Photo: Courtesy Photographer Donna Berryhill

***

Real Life Role Models: A perfect gentleman
Frankie the therapist meets with the women each day.
They've been homeless and victims of some form of abuse. They seem to find comfort in Frankie.

They can talk to Frankie. He listens to them. His support is unwavering. In many ways, he's like them.

Frankie the therapy dog sidles up to residents gathered for a therapy session at Tierra del Sol, a residential treatment program for homeless women. Frankie often sits in with residents to provide comfort during stressful and emotional sessions.

The women and Frankie are each subject to stereotypes. They've all been through hardships and abuse. They've traveled a long, hard road to where they are now. It's serious work for therapist Frankie. "He takes it very, very seriously," says Rutledge Beard, herself a case manager and therapist who just happens to be Frankie's owner.

Frankie the therapist is also Frankie the American Staffordshire Terrier - one of the breeds commonly known as "pit bulls." A certified therapy dog, 3-year-old Frankie is a daily fixture at Tierra del Sol, a northwest Albuquerque residential treatment program for homeless women run by Albuquerque Health Care for the Homeless.

The dog with eyes that match his caramel-colored coat is himself a castoff.  At just over a year old he was found on Louisiana Boulevard by the wife of Beard's veterinarian. He had been thrust from the back of a pickup and dragged by a trailing camper. Meanwhile, the pickup with California plates rolled on, Beard said. "Several vets pieced him back together," she said.

Frankie is now certified by the Delta Society, a Bellevue, Wash.-based group. In Frankie, the women have a constant friend and someone to talk to without ever judging them, Beard said. "He's like a big buddy," Beard said. "A lot of the women have only had negative touch in their lives." Women who refused to communicate with other adults would instead open up to Frankie, Beard said.

Residents with nothing to give would find a way to give treats to Frankie. He takes naps with them, waits for them on green lawn chairs outside their apartments, and nuzzles his heavy, muscular body against them when he hears them become agitated. But in his own way, he's a role model exemplifying how stereotypes can be wrong.

He's just one of 22 "pit bull" dogs to be a certified therapy animal, Beard said, an achievement that seems to shatter notions about the breed being among the dog world's most dangerous. "Theories about them being out of control or loaded guns aren't true," said Beard of Frankie, the pink-nosed dog that's scared of her two chickens.

National Canine Research Council

What is a dog bite?

While the question seems simple enough, the answer is often not what we imagine.

Dog bite numbers offer little useful information about canine behavior. Dog bite numbers are simply a tally of the number of people who sought medical treatment and/or reported a break in skin after exposure to a dog's nail or tooth; in other words, the number of people that have been injured interacting with a dog, whether or not the interaction involved aggression.

So, if dog bite numbers provide little useful information about canine aggression, then what can New Mexico dog bite numbers really tell us about canine / human interaction?

First, they reveal that there is no "dog bite epidemic" in New Mexico, and that all types of dog-related injuries have dramatically decreased over the past 3 decades.

Increased awareness of the importance of humane care and control of dogs, the enactment and enforcement of leash laws, and dog bite prevention education, have all been instrumental in drastically lowering the number of reported dog-related injuries nationwide.

In spite of significant increases in the human and dog population, cities and counties in New Mexico have seen dramatic reductions in the number of reported dog bites from the early 1970s:

Source: Albuquerque Animal Welfare Department

Albuquerque Animal Welfare Department, 2002, 2003: albuquerque-animal-control-report1

National Canine Research Council

Three of the six adult victims were intoxicated at the time of the incident.