— A Letter from Brendan —
Lucy's Story
As told by Brendan Jones · U.S. Veteran · #SaveLucy
Yesterday the police took away my deployment dog. A dog I have had for ten years. A dog I bonded with in a war zone. A girl who escaped ISIS, Bedouins, and the dog-eat-dog world of the Arabian desert. She barked at the wrong person — a well-connected and legally savvy lady who has been hostile to us since we first moved into the neighborhood two years ago.
I brought Lucy home from the Middle East — from the very border of what was then the Islamic State — following a deployment there ten years ago. What follows is the sad epilogue, although I hope and pray that the final page has not yet been written.
About a year ago, Lucy nipped a jogger on the arm, something she had never done before and has not done since. She had just had surgery to remove a lump on her left front leg, still heavily bandaged, groggy with medication, wearing a huge plastic cone. She felt vulnerable. The jogger's arms inadvertently reached inside the cone. Feeling threatened, Lucy nipped. It wasn't an aggressive bite — it was a defensive nip. She bit once and immediately released. The jogger wanted to let it go. But others used this incident to push for Lucy to be declared a "dangerous dog."
This has been two years of constant harassment, abusive texts directed at my wife, Facebook groups set up to gossip about and libel us, and attempts to weaponize the justice system against us. I basically stopped counting after the 15th or 16th time the cops were called over specious claims. Until yesterday, we had successfully fended off each of their attempts to use the law against us.
Late last year, I finally acquiesced to the dangerous dog declaration — even though I know after ten and a half years with her that she is not. I was weary. It was taking a psychological toll on my wife, who was made to feel like a pariah in her own community. Giving in was a colossal blunder. Instead of satiating them, it encouraged them. Worse, it gave them the legal groundwork for what followed.
I took Lucy outside after I woke up, as I have done every day for years. On this morning, she somehow slipped out of her collar. She stopped to sniff while I was walking and the collar slipped right off. Lucy, now free, ran toward the road without leaving my yard, where she stood barking at a passer-by — that bird of prey woman who hates us from her beak to her talons.
Nothing happened. I caught Lucy within seconds. She never left our yard. I reattached the collar and we went back inside. But this lady had already struck. She witnessed a freak equipment mishap and chose litigiousness over grace.
Soon, two police vehicles roared into my driveway. Animal control officers handed me a summons — Misdemeanor 1 charges for failing to restrain a dangerous dog. More distressingly, they seized my scared and confused 11-year-old companion, who now sits caged in some dog dungeon. This whole scene unfolded in front of my devastated children.
It's a terrible feeling to deploy ten times only to come home and find yourself at war with the very neighbors you went overseas to serve. While I went to Yemen, Iraq, and the Horn of Africa, I did not go to law school. Now my well-connected neighbors are using the law against my family. In this fight, I'm the one who is outgunned.
She must be terrified. She's not dangerous — she's just shy and scared of people she doesn't know. You would be too if you'd grown up where she did. She survived war. She deserves to be curled on a rug, not caged in a kennel, awaiting death, because her veteran owner fell into a legal trap.
Thank you for your time. I would be humbly grateful for your support in this fight. God bless you all.
— Brendan Jones · #SaveLucy
Yesterday the police took away my deployment dog. A dog I have had for ten years. A dog I bonded with in a war zone. A girl who escaped ISIS, Bedouins, and the dog-eat-dog world of the Arabian desert. She barked at the wrong person — a well-connected and legally savvy lady who has been hostile to us since we first moved into the neighborhood two years ago.
I brought Lucy home from the Middle East — from the very border of what was then the Islamic State — following a deployment there ten years ago. What follows is the sad epilogue, although I hope and pray that the final page has not yet been written.
About a year ago, Lucy nipped a jogger on the arm, something she had never done before and has not done since. She had just had surgery to remove a lump on her left front leg, still heavily bandaged, groggy with medication, wearing a huge plastic cone. Lucy nipped. It wasn't an aggressive bite — it was a defensive nip. She bit once and immediately released. The jogger wanted to let it go. But others used this incident to push for Lucy to be declared a "dangerous dog."
Two years of constant harassment, abusive texts directed at my wife, Facebook groups set up to gossip and libel us. Until yesterday, we had successfully fended off each of their attempts to use the law against us.
I finally acquiesced to the dangerous dog declaration — even though I know after ten and a half years that she is not. Giving in was a colossal blunder. Instead of satiating them, it encouraged them.
Lucy slipped out of her collar. She stood barking at a passer-by — that bird of prey woman who hates us from her beak to her talons. Nothing happened. I caught Lucy within seconds. She never left our yard. She chose litigiousness over grace.
Two police vehicles roared into my driveway. Animal control officers seized my scared and confused 11-year-old companion, who now sits caged in some dog dungeon. This whole scene unfolded in front of my devastated children.
It's a terrible feeling to deploy ten times only to come home and find yourself at war with the very neighbors you went overseas to serve. In this fight, I'm the one who is outgunned.
She survived war. She deserves to be curled on a rug, not caged in a kennel. Thank you for your time. God bless you all.
— Brendan Jones · #SaveLucy