by D. R. Hildebrand
Six years ago star quarterback Michael Vick was sentenced to two years in jail for promoting, funding, and facilitating a dogfighting operation, then lying about the details of his involvement. He served his sentence, paid his fine, participated in community service, and eventually returned to the NFL with the Philadelphia Eagles.
Now Vick has written an autobiography, Finally Free, with the hope of articulating his gratitude for second chances. He was recently set to sign copies of the book at book stores but cancelled when “reported protests escalated into threats of violence” not only against Vick but his family, his publisher, and the retailers that were scheduled to host him.
(Photo: Raleigh News & Observer/Getty)
Debating Vick’s crime, his sentence, the degree to which he is remorseful and so on will likely continue for some time. My own opinions about these issues have vacillated, even unexpectedly, the more I learn and the more I consider. It is the bigger picture, though—the response to it all and the context of it all—that I find consistently, relentlessly baffling.
Vick’s crime was heinous. No one I know disputes that. The reaction that has surfaced from it, however, is the wrong one. Our discussions are focused almost exclusively on the victims and not on the pathology of violence. We are angered because they are dogs, not because we permit and perpetuate a vast culture of abuse. These events would not, six years later, still sit at the fore of our thoughts had anyone been mistreating any other animal—including, even, humans. Read more…
mobile unit full of adoptable mutt-igrees as well as a couple of puppy mill rescues. I snapped the image above of Bartlett’s rescue pup Tiny Tim the last time I swung by his studio. Look at that face!
