Carol Mithers writes about accused dog hoarder Kimi Peck, whoâs on trial this month in Colorado after being arrested for animal cruelty, in Los Angeles magazineâs July issue. Mithers, who flew to Colorado to get Peckâs side of the story, speaks with her editor, Matthew Segal, about Peck, hoarding, and the âdramaticâ world of dog rescue.
Carol, how did you learn about Kimi Peck?
Iâve been following stories about rescue hoarding since I learned about the issue three years ago. I found it so strange and disturbing. There have been a series of high-profile rescue hoarding cases in that time, a number of them around L.A., and hers was one of them.
When you think back on your conversation with her, what stands out most in the gap between the person youâd been reading about and the person whom you met?
The almost over-the-top intensity of some of Peckâs critics made me wonder if sheâd been unfairly accused. Peckâs intelligent and literate, so we had a good conversation, and while Iâd heard stories of her being verbally abusive, she was extremely friendly to me. But hearing her blame her years of problems on a conspiracy of people, some of whom I knew had never met each other, suggested the charges were accurate. I know other rescues and rescuers whoâve been in business for many years, and they simply donât have these issues.
For anybody who hasnât read the story yet, how many ârescuedâ dogs did she keep at one time?
The accumulation of dogs varied, but in Burbank, it seems to have been as high as 300 to 400.
And how bad were the conditions?
Peck says they werenât bad at all. But the sheer numbers make that impossible. The guidelines for standards of care spelled out by the Association of Shelter Veterinarians say explicitly that animals kept long-term should be provided with daily enrichment, exercise, and alternatives to cage housing.
Those who worked with Peck in Burbank described dogs kept confined to tiny crates for protracted periods or never let out of closed rooms, crates stacked with the animalsâ waste running down to those below, and untreated medical conditions like severe dental disease.
I also interviewed a long-time activist from a very mainstream L.A. rescue organization who knew Peck and had had no personal conflict with her. (She didnât want to be named.) When Peck was losing her home in Kern County, this rescuer went to see if she could help and was shocked to find 300 dogs living in a metal utility barn, fenced area, and inside the house. âThereâs no way you can keep animals healthy in that situation,â she told me, describing the set-up as âlike a science experiment.â She said she informed Peck that âthis is off the rails,â and Peckâs surprise at that reaction âshowed me I wasnât speaking to a rational person.â
And then she entered animal rescue, where her passion for âsavingâ dogs was equaled only by the passion of the people who set out to get her out of the rescue business.
Thereâs a lot of drama in the rescue movement, which reminded me of the far left in terms of ideological and sectarian infighting. Peck fueled her opponentsâ passion by how viciously she lashed out when challenged. But what I think drives people crazy about hoarding is that because it falls into a legal gray zone, they canât stop it. They see animals suffering and are powerless to do anything. One of Peckâs former volunteers broke down crying when she described filing a signed complaint to animal services, which she knew would get her barred from the rescue. She told me, âI said goodbye to the dogs I couldnât take. I knew there was no organization or officials coming to save them.â
Some of that intensity surely relates to the life-and-death nature of rescue work, too. But the notion of neglected and abused children just doesnât seem to inspire the same level of emotion that dogs and cats do. If you were to speculate, whatâs going on?
Iâm not a religious person, but the words that come to mind are âoriginal sin.â Children are people, which makes them complicated. Even if you try to help, they can be difficult and ungrateful. Dogs and cats are innocentâweâre the ones who cause all their problems.
As you point out in the piece, back in the 1970s, 20 million dogs and cats were being euthanized in the U.S. each year. The number is far lower, with the death toll in L.A. dropping from around 110,000 in that decade to something like 60,000 in the 1980s. Where does it stand now?
Because some animals that come into a public shelter will be too sick or violent to be adoptable, a save rate of 90 percent is considered achieving No Kill status. The City of Los Angeles is getting closer. In the first nine months of fiscal year 2014-2105, about 80 percent of dogs and cats made it out of the shelter alive. In L.A. County by contrast, it was only 52 percent. Shelter intake is substantially higher in poor communities; changing that is the focus of some really interesting new rescue work.
I know you have a couple of rescue dogs. Whatâs their story? When my family and I adopted our first rescue dog, we were greeted with what seemed to be a great deal of skepticism by rescue volunteers. Kidsâthey donât seem so popular with rescue volunteers.
When my family applied to adopt Haskell, our first dog from a rescue group, in 1999, I had no idea what rescue was, and I was shocked when someone came to the house to see if it was âgood enough.â Beyond that, though, the process wasnât difficult, and we had a six-year-old daughter at the time. When Haskell died at age 11, we went back to the same group and adopted a puppy. Caseyâs an intelligent and very headstrong chow mix whoâs now 10 1/2. Almost three years ago, we agreed to be a temporary foster home for Pinta, a scared young Rottweiler rescued from the South L.A. shelter. A week later, we were in love and signed the adoption papers.
After adopting my sharpei-golden mix, I came to realize that the rescue people have to be distrustful; after all, itâs often the case that a dog winds up in a shelter or abandoned because of poor or inadequate stewardship. But even then, it seems like rescue can have a somewhat brittle us-versus-the-world outlook. When I jokingly referred to my dog as a pig, I was corrected to say that she was âfood-motivated.â What seemed utterly humorless and PC at the time, I guess, is probably a function of how much poor decision-making volunteers see.
If you love animals, and especially if youâve known some intimately and know how distinct they are as individuals, itâs unbearably sad to go into a shelter and see how many are there as âsurplus.â When I walked through the South L.A. shelter for this story, I saw five dogs I would have been happy to take home. Someone had owned them and let them go. Or lost them, or wasnât able to keep them. Thatâs not even considering those animals that were actively mistreated. Itâs easy to get a jaundiced view of humanity. At the same time, I canât bear people who refer to animals as âfur-babies.â
Duly noted. So your dogsâare they the extent of your involvement with the No Kill movement?
Yes. I love my dogs, but Iâm more interested in people.
One of the great ironies, which you focus on in the story, is that the rescue movement has given rise to hoarders who kind of hide in plain view: Rescue hoarders.
No Kill didnât create hoarding, but it can disguise hoarding pathology as something else, and worse, can attract funding and active support. Whether belief in No Kill is creating more hoarders is an interesting question. Gary Patronekâ
Heâs an expert you interview for the piece.
Yes, he told me that more hoarding cases were coming to light, both in the U.S. and in Europe, and no one knows why. No Kill seems to make it easier for hoarders to get hold of animals. I support the No Kill ideal, but itâs harder to realize than some of its proponents would have us believe.
Of course, Peck denies hoarding animals, but what traits, generally speaking, do hoarders share?
Researchers divide animal hoarders into types, with the difference being their motivation. The âexploiterâ accumulates animals strictly for his/her own pleasure; the âoverwhelmed caregiverâ and ârescue hoarderâ both justify what theyâre doing as righteous and necessary to save the animals from euthanasia. But the bottom line is that none of them care properly for their animals, and the animals suffer terribly as a result.
Has working on this story changed your perspective in any way?
It makes me value the work of good rescues even more, but Iâm also a lot more suspicious. Iâve become aware that there are rescue scams, tooâpeople soliciting GoFundMe donations to âsaveâ animals that turn out to be dead or nonexistent.
Last thing: I think most of us would assume weâd know a hoarding situation when we see one, but apparently, thatâs just not what happens. What are some tips to make sure youâre getting your dog from a reputable organization?
Stay local, and only deal with groups willing to let you see where they keep their animals and share the names of their vets and some past adopters. Never give in to Internet sob stories that ask you to finance sending animals to people, sanctuaries, or groups you donât know personally. If a rescue says itâs a nonprofit, get a tax ID number, and check its reputation on Guidestar or Charity Navigator. Rescuer groups should provide statistics on how many animals they take in and how many theyâve adopted out. No reputable rescue will say, âWe take everyone.â
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