Hello Celebritys

The man who put Nelly on a chain and then forgot to feed her and 105+ other dogs pleaded guilty to five counts of animal cruelty and was sentenced to 90 days in jail this week. That's just about one day behind bars for every dog that died.

To refresh, this was the December 2008 case in rural Kay County, Oklahoma where dogs were chained and penned in all kinds of extreme weather without shelter, with green buckets of (frozen) water and barely enough food to stay alive ... The yard that was discovered by two hunters that became the headache for a county that has no animal shelter.

Jerry Southern - the dogs' owner - didn't get to this farm too often. He lived over in Kansas, where he was forbidden to own dogs due to his evil deeds in that state. So he set up shop over the border in a rented property, and staked out dozens of dogs on car axels. Feeding those long distance responsibilities was something he did in his spare time, which wasn't often enough, based on the number of dried up dog remains found at the site. Dead dogs in the (empty) house, dead dogs decomposing in dog crates, dead dogs on their chains. (Photo: warning) Nice guy, Mr. Southern. The dogs were staked near each other just outside of grabbing reach, so you can just imagine how little they liked their neighbor dogs when that rare handful of food came around. Mr. Southern - who claimed to be a misunderstood dog breeder - was up to no good. Unfortunately the sheriffs in that county were caught off guard and not able to gather the evidence that would've nailed him for the felony we all know he was involved with. Below: The scene on the farm after nearly three weeks of food and care, provided by local volunteers.



Southern was originally charged with 96 counts of animal cruelty - one for each dog that a veterinarian deemed a starvation case. Twenty months later, those 96 counts of cruelty were whittled down to a mere five after Southern offered a hefty 10K as a form of "restitution." That amount is set to be distributed to a local shelter and rescue groups including BR, after the courts get a big chunk of the payment, that is. We're told that buying the get out of jail free card was his defense attorney's idea. The DA accepted the plea agreement, apparently worried that pushing for a stronger jail sentence would anger the known-to-be-lenient judge and cause Southern to get off with a deferred sentence. When you're prosecuting an animal abuse case in Oklahoma, you take what you can get - especially while jails are bursting full.

It's hard to know how to feel about all this. We're still a little numb from our memories of taking his dogs off their rusty chain rigs one by one in the screaming wind and carrying them inside a horse trailer to be euthanized. That's not something you forget. Everyone in this team of frozen rescuers (members of BR, the wonderful MABBR and OAA) held it together as well as you can expect in the situation, knowing that twenty some dogs were getting miracle second chances. When one of us lost it during this terrible task, we'd go off to have a moment alone and someone else on the team would take over with the death march to the trailer. Right: This dog died long before the rescue team arrived.

Kay County assistant district attorney Tara Portillo told me that 90 days in jail was one of the stiffest sentences an Oklahoma judge has ever given an animal abuser, and after scouring pet-abuse.com I see that she's not exaggerating. Miss Portillo took the case because she's an animal lover and wanted to see justice served, although she reminded me (not that she needed to) that when it comes down to it, not many are ready to see pit bulls in the same light as other dogs. In her words, "Who the f-k cares about pit bulls?" Well, she does and so do we. But the world does have some questionable priorities. She told me that Peta - who tried hard to convince authorities to kill all the dogs - sent her a bouquet of red roses for taking the case. The public donated dog food and donations in small mountains and volunteers poured out to help. Meanwhile, horrible crimes against children in Portillo's district barely land on the public's sympathy radar.

Donyale Hoye and I went out there that December to offer an alternative to auto-death for all dogs. This county had never really dealt with anything like this, so the Oklahoma Alliance for Animals took custody of all the dogs to ensure that they wouldn't end up back in the hands of the perpetrator (as we're told has happened in other cases) and then, bolstered by the good press that came out of the Vick case, shifted ownership over to us. It took some doing to convince them that, despite impassioned phone calls from random strangers, pit bull rescuers are not all crazy people, and yes, we meant it when we said we would do what we could to get as many as possible into responsible hands. Easier said than done. The weather forced impossibly fast decisions and we all still have regrets about the dogs we couldn't bring home. The sheriffs were great to work with but they were under a deadline, not only with the weather, but with the dog owner who was putting together bail so he could get out of jail, and yes, back to the farm where we were working.

Left: Simon from MABBR, is still one of the biggest hearts I've met in rescue work. He worked non-stop to help the dogs and broke down crying under the pressure of selecting the handful that could be saved within this tiny window of time.

The sheriffs counted hours in their squad car from the driveway of the farm, with guns ready just in case trouble showed up. They got out a few times - once to offer me a wool hat in the freezing wind, and again to bag up the bodies of freshly euthanized dogs and take them to the dump. I stopped them before they bagged up this boy (below). Stunningly beautiful - he was scared to death on his chain and didn't want to be touched. Death allowed me to stroke his still-warm body, so I did that and whispered to him as if he was sleeping contently, stretched out on the ground, finally relaxed after months of hunching over, cold and hungry. The sheriffs stood back and let me pay these final respects, holding their heads down like you do at a funeral. Good bye buddy. So very very sorry what our kind did to you and your family.



We weren't terribly upset to learn that Mr. Southern had to be moved to solitary confinement during his short stay in jail while we were at the farm. It seems that after hours, he was getting pummeled by some of the inmates who were helping sheriffs feed and care for his dying dogs - a real live cowboy's version of justice.

So, a good pummeling, 90 days in jail, 15 years probation and a plea bargain that included a cash settlement. Is "restitution" money the new way of letting animal abusers walk away from their crimes? And if so, is a lighter sentence a fair exchange? ... and finally, where is their money coming from? (God help me - what if it's blood money?)

Despite our deep gratitude to the authorities for powering through this case and setting a new precedent in this state, one part of me wishes that the DA hadn't accepted the money, especially once I heard her answer to my question, "Did Mr. Southern ever show any remorse about his dogs?" Oklahomans don't mince any words. She responded, "He doesn't give a shit."


Above: Two dogs that made it out alive: Turtle on the left and Tully, in front.