Neighbor kills dog, shatters Browns Point family
Wed, 03/08/2006
Through tears of mourning and frustration, Gretchen Davis continues to search for answers.
Gretchen and her family want to know who, and more importantly why, someone in their neighborhood shot and killed their beloved dog, Sally, with a pellet rifle.
"This isn't supposed to happen here," said Gretchen, still visibly shell shocked from the violent act that occurred on February 23. She never imagined that someone in such a welcoming and friendly community as Browns Point could act so wickedly.
"I used to think this was a great place to live," she said, "but now I just want to move."
Her family relocated to the seaside shelter of Browns Point to escape the stresses of the fast-paced urban life surrounding her in Tacoma and Federal Way. Marine View drive-the main thoroughfare bisecting Browns Point-seemed deserted, even during rush hour. But the small-town charm and friendly atmosphere of the quaint waterfront community soon turned bitter for Gretchen, who believes someone in her neighborhood robbed her family of its newest canine member.
"I let Sally and Fat Dog (the nickname Gretchen gives to the family's 10-year-old lab) out the front door," she said, recalling the tragic afternoon. "They weren't out five minutes."
Gretchen's teenage son Joseph greeted the dogs when they returned to the back porch, and he immediately notified his mother that something happened to Sally.
Skeptical, Gretchen walked to the porch, where she noticed Sally laying flat on her belly outside the back door. Something seemed horribly wrong with her.
"My initial reaction was 'oh God, she's not OK,'" recalled Gretchen, who then had no idea what happened to her dog. She scooped up the young pup and took her to the veterinarian's clinic a few blocks from her home, and the staff hooked her up to an IV and took X-rays.
The vet shaved off an area of fur in front of her left hindquarter and discovered a single puncture wound, which ruled out a bloody encounter with another animal.
"We knew there was a lot of blood," Gretchen said, "but we had no idea what was wrong with her."
The X-rays confirmed a solitary pellet lodged in her abdomen.
Sally's condition deteriorated quickly as her heart rate and blood pressure began to drop. The vet wrapped her in blankets and added dopamine to her IV to increase her vital signs, but Sally would still need surgery to treat her injury.
The clinic in Browns Point had no blood on hand for a transfusion, so the vet recommended Gretchen and her family hurry Sally to the emergency center in Tacoma. With the emergency vet prepared for their arrival, the family sped towards the city with their wounded dog.
But the Tacoma vets could not stabilize Sally's condition for surgery. Within minutes of arriving, Sally's heart stopped.
"We had already agreed that they could perform CPR on her," Gretchen said. "They were able to bring her back."
The small heart in her 27-pound body began to beat again, but the vet came out from the surgery room to tell Gretchen that Sally could not breathe on her own. Her injuries had inflicted too much damage, she recalled, and the vet declared their dog brain dead.
Instead of approving a risky surgery that would not likely save Sally, the family elected to spend a few last moments with her before she died.
"We could look into her eyes," Gretchen said, pausing as her own eyes filled with tears, "and see that she really wasn't there."
Understanding the soul of their playful and loving dog had finally passed on, Gretchen said her family "made the decision to stop Sally's heart."
The next morning, Gretchen called Animal Control and the Sheriff's Office with limited success.
"The Sheriff was less than helpful," Gretchen said, visibly frustrated at their encounter.
He advised their family against putting up any signs around Browns Point for fear of retaliation from the shooter.
"He said that if I found the person and took them to court, then that person might say something like 'well, you weren't obeying leash laws and your dog dug up my yard,' and counter-sue," Gretchen added. "He told us that unless we find someone, there's nothing they can do."
The incident seems to have stirred up far more questions than answers.
Confused and angry, Gretchen asked why a homeowner who had a problem with her dogs would not confront her personally before taking such drastic measures.
"I can understand someone getting upset that my dogs go into their yard," Gretchen said, "but it makes no sense to me why someone would do this."
"I could understand if it had been a car that killed her," Gretchen said, "but I live in a quiet neighborhood and somebody shot my dog. Someone killed the little beloved animal in my world."
The family spent most of that Saturday mourning the loss of the small corgie/dachsund mix they rescued from an abusive home and showered with love. Gretchen headed out early on Sunday in search of information in her neighborhood.
"I went door-to-door and met with everyone who was home," she said. "Most of the people in the community have responded with absolute kindness."
And while she has turned up sympathy and support from many of her neighbors, Gretchen has yet to discover any information or evidence.
"The Sheriff told me I needed to be quiet," she said. "But I just can't stay quiet any longer."
She wants to spread the word that a begrudged homeowner in her neighborhood used the pellet rifle to keep her dogs out of their yard.
"It hadn't occurred to me until now," Gretchen said, "but the same thing happened to this dog, too." She motioned to the obese but excessively friendly and playful lab asleep in her hallway.
Back in November or December, Vanilla unexplainably took a pellet in the rump, Gretchen said. His injury-unlike Sally's-proved only superficial.
"I didn't think anything of it at the time," Gretchen said, "I thought it might have been a random drive-by or something."
"But somebody close is doing this," she said.
And when she finds out who, she wants to ask why.
"In my heart, I would like to know who shot her," Gretchen said, "and I would like to have a conversation with them. I would like to explain to them what that has actually meant for us."
"They've robbed us of a big part of our life," she said. "Our little friend is dead."