Not too long ago, I did a post about Sir Patrick Stewart and his pit bull, Ginger. As you may recall, Stewart and his wife are fostering the dog, but can’t adopt her because breed specific laws in the U.K. are preventing them from taking her there.

Their story, which is heartbreaking and heartwarming, made me think about breed specific laws here. And I’ve come to the conclusion that the harshest of these rules and regulations — while well-intentioned — are worthless.

What is breed-specific legislation?

According to the National Canine Research Council, breed-specific legislation (BSL) or breed-discriminatory legislation (BDL) is “a law or ordinance that prohibits or restricts the keeping of dogs of specific breeds, dogs presumed to be specific breeds, mixes of specific breeds, and/or dogs presumed to be mixes of one or more of those breeds.”

These rules and regulations include but are not limited to:

• Complete bans
• Mandatory spay/neuter
• Muzzling
• Liability insurance requirements
• Mandatory micro-chipping and/or tattoos
• Age requirements for those who own or walk certain types of dogs
• Exclusion from some public places
• Training requirements
• Submission of photograph(s) and additional identifying information to the relevant authority/authorities.

Taking aim at ‘dangerous dogs’

Some of these laws are reasonable — and unfortunately, some are necessary. Those that promote responsible pet ownership, public education and awareness, can actually be effective.

But sadly, most of the harshest breed-specific laws are knee-jerk reactions to tragic incidents involving alleged dog “attacks.”

Because the victims are often children, the incidents resulting in permanent injuries or — in the most horrible circumstances — death, grab national headlines and there is a rush to judgment before all of the facts are known. Bowing to public pressure, ignorant but well-meaning lawmakers create sweeping laws that are designed to “protect” the public.

The reality is that these laws target entire groups of dogs based on the actions of a few. according to an article on onegreenplanet.org, the “dangerous dog” breeds often targeted by breed-specific laws are:

• Pit bulls (not an actual breed)
• American bulldogs
• Mastiffs
• Dalmatians
• Chow Chows
• German Shepherds
• Doberman Pinscher

Other breeds also make the list, according to the article. In fact, the author maintains, some of these laws can even affect Chihuahuas. Personally, I find it sad, but not surprising. It seems these laws are designed any type of dog that has a tendency to bite.

That being stated, I’ve never been bitten by a Chihuahua. But I did get bitten by my ex-husband’s yellow Lab-cross.  And I still have the scar to prove it…

Collateral damage

The saddest part of this whole situation is that a lot of these laws have drastic, if unintended consequences.

Breed-specific laws create a huge burden for animal welfare and rescue groups in two significant ways. They force people to surrender or “dump” their dogs, and make those dogs harder to place. Trust me, I know. I volunteered with a rescue group for years (and still do, on a limited basis).

Worse yet, these laws result in needless, senseless, pointless deaths. Whole groups of dogs are slaughtered. Because they “look” dangerous. Because they belong to a breed prone to “aggressive tendencies.” Or for no reason, whatsoever.

Now here’s where I get really angry, and the post gets controversial.

What if we did this to people. What if we decided that a whole group of people was “dangerous” based on the actions of a few? And what if we decided to restrict where this entire “dangerous” race lived or made them wear identifying clothing, or worse yet, decided to wipe them off the face of the earth?

Oh, wait… humans have done something like that from time to time, haven’t we? Why not all that long ago, the President of the United States tried to prohibit entire groups of people from certain countries from coming here just because a few Muslim extremists from that part of the world have engaged in terrorism.

Look at the outrage that created.

I rest my case.