No hotter or more important issue exists in all of dogdom than that of the theft of dogs. Accurate figures are hard to come by, but it seems conservative to say that almost a million dogs a year are stolen. The vast majority of these canines go to laboratories; the rest are sold as pets and hunting dogs.

The dog seems to be the most desirable animal for research work. Medical schools use them; food research institutes, chemical labs, psychological and reaction labs, dog food companies, all use them. The list is endless, the total numbers in the hundreds of thousands. The research is valuable and necessary. Most medical teams of doctors working on transplants learn to coordinate teamwork by performing a highly complicated operation several times on dogs before turning to humans. The research generally is conducted under clean conditions, for this is necessary for the accurate gathering of knowledge. That the experiments be humane has been provided for by recent public law. All this is fine and commendable, but for dog owners the existence of so much research increases the danger that their animal may be stolen in order to be sold to a lab. Hunters are especially vulnerable because their dogs tend to run loose more and often they live in rural areas where it is easier to steal a dog. Furthermore, the market value of hunting dogs is better, either as working or research animals, because they are usually strong and healthy.

I lost a dog this way about eight years ago. The dog that was stolen was a bitch I had already paid the stud fee on to breed to the National Pheasant Champion that year. I took her out to Long Island for an afternoon hunt. She got away from me, became lost, then looped back toward the car. Before she got there, somebody drove up, opened his door, whistled her inside and drove off. I could see it all from a distance, but I couldn't get there in time.

I rushed to the police. They were sympathetic but un-cooperative. "Mister, we get a dozen complaints a week on stolen or lost dogs. We've got more important things to do than chase around on them."
I got mad because this was pretty important to me, but later I could see their point.

"Well," I said, "I'm going to drive around until I see the guy, then get you to come arrest him."
"Can't do that unless you have positive identification of your dog," said the officer.
"What are you talking about?"
"You've got to be able to prove it before we'll make an arrest."
"I know my dog when I see it."
"That's not enough legally. If his collar's still on him, that's helpful, but the thief undoubtedly tore it off and threw it away within the first hundred feet. Markings don't stand up under a court of law. Tattoos are the best thing. Your dog tattooed?"
"No."
"Too bad. The only other thing is scars that a vet can positively identify."
"What about witnesses to verify the identity of the dog?"
"Not much," he shrugged, "especially if you've got a Weimaraner that looks like a thousand others. A room full of witnesses can't prove it then. Tattoo's the best thing."

Recently I spoke with a uniformed dog warden in Pennsylvania who told me some hair-raising stories of dog theft in his area. Pets were stolen from backyards, houses, parked cars. Whole kennels were cleaned out by dognappers who waited until the owner and family left home for a while. One amateur Beagle fancier who had spent a lifetime developing his own strain for hunting and field trials lost his entire kennel, including three field champions, though the thieves had to scale a fence and break a locked gate.

How to stop this black market in dogs?
The Congress of the U. S. tried with Public Law 89-544, known as The Laboratory Animal Welfare Act. Under the rules of this act, which appeared in the Federal Register of December 15, 1966, the Department of Agriculture issues licenses to dog and cat dealers, inspects laboratory facilities, and so on. All of this is helpful, but dog theft continues. Consider the following experiences of Mr. M. A. Jones from Mena, Arkansas, who is a three-time dog loser:
"... Thieves have been stealing us blind here in this part of the state. It goes on all year but starts in a big way in August and goes on until after the first of the year."
Or the following excerpt from an Associated Press story dated June 19, 1968:
"Three men .. . were arrested here [East Windsor, N. J.] Sunday as they were transporting 210 dogs to a Princeton Laboratory and charged with carrying animals in a cruel way. . . . One of the dogs was dead and another died soon after the arrest, police said."

In my opinion, tattooing is the only easy way to protect your dog from theft. A registered tattoo clearly identifies him as your personal property beyond any legal doubt. Because a tattoo will stand up in any court of law in the country, the chances are good that when a dognapper discovers a tattooed dog among those he has nabbed, he'll pull it out of the bunch and turn it loose rather than run the risk of a serious fine or a jail sentence.

Another restraining influence which the tattoo exerts is on the research lab as a buyer. As a result of the House hearings and PL 89-544, enough attention has been focused on the situation so the labs don't want to cause any unnecessary disturbance. Obviously, the discovery of a tattooed dog in a laboratory would create the kind of trouble no laboratory could afford, and the use of such dogs would surely be discovered. The result is that the labs refuse to buy them. Furthermore, it is a Federal crime to transport or sell stolen domestic animals in interstate or foreign commerce—another reason why all dealers and labs shy away from tattooed dogs, which can be positively identified by police or owners. Law provides for penalties of up to a year in prison or a fine of up to $1,000 or both.
This is why I urge you to tattoo your dog.
The process of tattooing is very simple. Two methods are available, one superior to the other, in my opinion. The oldest and poorest way is called the clamp method, and it is used to mark the inside of the dog's ear. The clamp is a gadget similar to a pair of pliers into which four numerals or letters formed by tiny, needle-sharp nails are inserted. The underside of the animal's ear is cleaned with alcohol, then two people hold the dog down on his back, one grasping his hind legs, the other his front legs and head. A third person works the tattoo pliers, breaking the skin of the ear with a quick squeeze, then thoroughly wiping the area with the tattoo ink which works into the perforations and becomes permanent when healed.

When my dog was stolen, I ran out and bought one of these sets and tattooed the remaining dogs in my kennel. This was in the days before any tattoo registry existed, so the problem was what to use in the way of a number. I finally settled on the dog's Field Dog Stud Book registration number, which involved tattooing FDSE 492844. Theoretically, this meant that if the dog were lost, a finder could get in touch with me through the registry if he were persistent and wanted to. It also meant three squeezes on the pliers—a lot of punching on the ear, which proved the biggest drawback.

Clamp tattooing is somewhat like having your ear pierced, but you're supposed merely to break the skin, not go deep into it or through it. The first squeeze comes as a surprise to the dog, for he doesn't realize quite what happened, but the second time he is ready to defend himself, and the third time he'll probably bite. A muzzle gets around this.

The biggest problem is that unless you're just plain lucky, you'll hit a blood vessel and cause a hematoma, which is exactly what happened to me. This is like a big bubble of blood which forms under the skin, and it is hard and bothersome to treat, particularly in field dogs who knock their ears a lot. The clamp method leaves a neat, clear marking, but the risk of hematoma is too much for me.

The second marking system makes use of a small portable pen like the ones in tattoo parlors. With this you can write any place on the dog with almost no trouble at all. Generally the tattoo is put on the inside of the leg groin where the blood vessels are deep, so there is little or no chance of hematoma.

To tattoo by the needle also requires three people. Two people hold the dog down on a table on its back so that the inside of the right leg is easily accessible. The third man first shaves the hair from the tattoo area with electric clippers, swabs it off with alcohol to disinfect, then rubs petroleum jelly over the spot. He now picks up his tattoo pen and handwrites the assigned number on the dog.

The whole process takes less than three minutes and is practically painless. The only problem is that the chattering of the tattoo needle upsets certain dogs the same way an aerosol spray will drive some dogs nuts. It is best to tranquilize this type of animal.

Making the tattoo is actually the final step hi protecting your dog from theft or loss. First comes the matter of registration.

Because many people have seen the merit of tattoos as a means of identification, it is now possible to have your dog's tattoo listed in a registry. The trouble is that there are several registries to choose from, perhaps more than half a dozen. Unfortunately this leads to confusion, for if you or the police or the local pound find a tattooed dog, which registry do you get in touch with? To date, neither the American Kennel Club (all breeds), the Field Dog Stud Book (bird dogs), nor the United Kennel Club (hounds) has seen fit to come forward and say "This is our system."
I checked into two registries, and here's how they work. The National Dog Registry, 227 Stebbins Rd., Carmel, N.Y. 10512, (phone: 914-277-4485) was started in early 1966 by Dr. David H. Timrud, a physician at Princeton University's infirmary, who had his beloved house dog stolen and went to no end of time, trouble, and expense to recover it. When all proved fruitless, he spoke to several veterinarians who encouraged him to start a national tattoo registry. This he did. The system he used is based on your social security number. Since everybody in the country has one, this is what is tattooed on your dog's right groin. The number is then registered for the lifetime of the owner upon payment of $15. Permanent registration permits you to tattoo all the dogs you will ever own with your social security number without any additional cost. The number is rather long, nine digits, and in the case of transfer or sale it becomes more complicated, although provisions are made for this.

Most of the tattooing for the NDR is done through clinics—women's civic groups, Humane Societies, dog clubs, field trial clubs, dog shows. NDR is strongest in the East, in the megapolis from Boston to Virginia. At these clinics, one pays for the registry of his social security number with NDR (fees above), and for the tattoo, usually a $5 fee which goes to the person who does the job—sometimes a veterinarian, more often someone handy with the tattoo pen.

What the future will bring out of all this remains to be seen. My own feeling is that sooner or later the AKC, FDSB, UKC and other dog registries will require tattooing for permanent positive identification. At this point AKC has gone only so far as to recommend the groin tattoo in preference to ear tattoo.

There is another interesting aspect to this problem of dog theft. Connecticut seems to have solved it pretty well by legislation. In that state a law was passed that all dogs in a pound after two weeks, unclaimed by the owner or not placed, can be sold to research laboratories and medical schools. There was a great hullabaloo over this law—humane societies and anti-vivisectionists opposed it—but in practice it has eliminated just about all theft of dogs for sale to laboratories in a state which used to have a high rate of such crimes because of its many research institutions and medical schools.

The general public has little idea of the vast number of dogs put away by pounds because they are unwanted or are problem cases. If other states passed legislation similar to that in Connecticut, the vast majority of dog thefts would stop overnight. Want an ax to grind? Here's one for you.

This still does not eliminate the need for tattooing. It is a positive system for identifying dogs and having them returned when lost. All seeing-eye dogs are automatically tattooed, which speaks for itself. On the financial side, a tattoo clinic offers a fine way for your hunting or field trial club to raise some money for its treasury and at the same time accomplish a most worthwhile purpose. Jeff Griffen Reprinted through the courtesy of Field & Stream