Yukon kennel owner's troubles overshadow bigger issue: all those unwanted dogs

The legal battle between Yukon kennel owner Shelley Cuthbert and her neighbours is a longstanding — and, some would argue, increasingly absurd — issue within our community. But the focus on Cuthbert's personal battles has overshadowed the more meaningful question of what animal control and neglect issues signify within a community.

Cuthbert's Tagish Estates neighbours took her to court over the noise, smell and perceived safety issues related to her Any Domesticated Animal Rescue and Boarding Kennels in 2016, at which time Cuthbert had around 80 dogs.

In October 2017, a judge ruled in favour of her neighbours, and ordered Cuthbert to reduce the number of dogs on her property to two.

Cuthbert refused to comply. She maintains that her business provides an essential service to the Carcross/Tagish First Nation (CTFN), with whom she was contracted as a dogcatcher, and that the dogs in her care could be put down if she were to give them up.

The issue has since spiraled out of control, with Cuthbert voluntarily camped out off-grid with her now 50-odd dogs, on public land near Tarfu Lake.

The Yukon Department of Energy, Mines and Resources has filed with the Yukon Supreme Court to have her leave the site, an issue that will be heard in court later this month.

Depending on who you ask, Cuthbert is either a caring, dedicated eccentric who deeply loves animals, or a possibly unstable dog hoarder.

What is missing from the conversation is what the need for such a dog rescue — whether run by Cuthbert or otherwise — really means. When people have difficulty affording to meet their own basic needs, they have difficulty meeting those of animals in their care.

How animals are cared for within a community is a barometer of the health of that community.

'Social stress,' animal neglect linked: study

While no Yukon-specific studies were available on the potential links between animal welfare and community welfare, Yukon communities that have historically seen animal control issues tend to have substantially lower median incomes than those that have not.

The Yukon Bureau of Statistics reports that, in 2015, Carcross and Tagish — communities on the traditional lands of CTFN — had median household incomes of $55,000 and $52,000 respectively, nearly half that of nearby, affluent Whitehorse, which had a median of $94,000 a year.

Ross River, which has had problems with dogs for years — an issue that came to a head in 2015 when a man was tragically mauled and partially eaten by a pack of loose dogs — has a median household income of $45,000 a year, or just $22,000 in single-person households. That community saw another dog attack in January 2018.  

A 2010 study by the University of Pennsylvania found areas with high rates of "social stress" such as poverty, crime and structural decline, were positively associated with animal neglect but not with animal abuse, which was best understood as "an individual phenomenon."

That poverty and "social stress" are potentially linked to animal neglect, and neglected animals are indicators of such problems within a community, is not an isolated Yukon problem.  

In May 2017, Donnelly Rose Eaglestick was mauled to death by a pack of loose dogs in Little Grand Rapids First Nation, Man. Eaglestick was a single mother and the attack left her five-year-old daughter orphaned.

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The median household income for that community in 2015 was just $32,000 a year, according to the Canadian Bureau of Statistics.

Likewise, it is not specifically a First Nations or rural problem; in September of this year, an animal control officer was brutally attacked by an escaped dog in Surrey, B.C., receiving an injury that required extensive surgery.

Surrey has the highest child poverty rate in the greater Vancouver area.

In November, two children were injured following a dog attack in Montreal North, a borough known for high levels of poverty.

Housing issues

Difficulty with housing issues is the "most common reason" people surrender their pets to the Mae Bachur Animal Shelter in Whitehorse, says Humane Society Yukon executive director Dan Moore.

With the price and scarcity of rentals — let alone pet-friendly ones — straight across the territory and a $7 gap between the Yukon minimum wage and the calculated living wage, that shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone.

The humane society lists the cost of owning a dog, before one-time expenses like spaying (which the territory has a subsidy program to assist with) to be around $1,250 a year.

If you live in the communities where there is no veterinarian, that number does not include the cost of fuel to take your pet to larger centres for either emergencies or check-ups.

Moreover, even if you have the best of intentions for your pet, if you're a household making $45,000 a year and find yourself with a dog with aggression or behavioural issues, you're less likely to be able to afford fancy dog training or even devote the time to train the animal yourself, resulting in more untreated problem animals.

What we are really dealing with when we talk about issues of animal welfare are not the consequences of animal neglect, but the consequences of our neglect for others.

That we in Yukon have a situation where a private citizen — rightly or wrongly — has between 50 and 80 unwanted or uncared for dogs at her rescue is an indicator that something is wrong no matter what way we shake it.

This column is part of CBC's Opinion section. For more information about this section, please read this editor's blog and our FAQ.