Can Poor People Own Dogs in New Zealand?

For 14-year old Poasa it was a day like any other. Fido, his friend for one and a half years tried to accompany him to school. "No, no," said Poasa as almost any day, "schools are for kids, gardens are for dogs. Go home Fido, I'll be back soon enough." He already enjoyed the idea of coming home and playing with Fido and Warrior. Warrior was his second dog, which he got only a few months ago.

What did Poasa know of a Dog Control Amendment Act passed by overzealous members in parliament in 2003? He would never have suspected that those members in parliament had granted gruesome powers to come after him and his dogs. But he soon would find out how far the government was prepared to go.

Fido was a fine harmless dog. As was Warrior. They did have only one flaw, which would be their death warrant: they were not registered. The family of nine kids with a tenth on the way simply couldn't afford the fees. Perhaps if the council had allowed them to pay in instalments, they might have. But when they had the dollars it was the washing machine, a school uniform, the car, or simply dog food that just ate the extra money away. And why register? Fido and Warrior weren't dangerous, they didn't bite!

That afternoon Poasa and his siblings did indeed play with Fido and Warrior. When Fido ran unto the foot path they followed him the bring him back. But suddenly another kid on a bike "lavalava-cracked" (whipped) Fido. A hurt and scared Fido quickly bit into the tyre of the thing that hit him. But the mother of the child with the bike thought otherwise. She rang the council and said that a dog had bitten her child.

Events after that unfolded quickly. Because unregistered dogs mean money, council officers were quick to arrive at the door. While his siblings looked stunned, the officers forced Fido from Poasa's embrace. Warrior was quickly captured as well. Poasa could protest what he could, that it wasn't true, that Fido hadn't bitten a child, the officers didn't listen. And who would, when every captured dog earned you a bonus from the council?

The next day a still shocked Poasa went to the pound. But he couldn't see his dogs. The pound, receiving even more money if they killed the dog, had made the procedures as difficult as possible. Poasa was told that a neighbour had to identify Fido first. Which happened after two days. And once more Poasa made the trip to the pound, to see his dogs. And he to return without them. If only he was rich! But the staggering fees that the pound asked, who could afford them? He didn't know any who could!

And so he came home without them. We see Poasa frantically going around the neighbourhood, asking for money, begging people to give him something to save his dogs. He almost cried, telling them: "I will have to pay $600 to get Fido back else it will be killed in a few days. And $340 to get Warrior back." He succeeded in raising some money, but it wasn't enough. And the family of ten didn't have an emergency budget of almost $1000. And the pound didn't do instalments. With the money Poasa raised and with some money the family somehow found, there was just enough to save Warrior.

And so Poasa returned to the pound a last time, now to say goodbye. Goodbye to a dog he had known since he was little puppy. Goodbye to a companion for one and a half year. Goodbye my best friend.

But more was to come. Warrior, a healthy dog before, came home, and became sick almost immediately. As Poasa realised it was Pavo virus, fear gripped his heart. As dogs are stored with three in a cell, another dog had passed on the disease while in the pound. He went immediately to the SPCA, but was told he had to go to a vet. Treatment might be $500. As Poasa and his family had really used up their funds, there was nothing left to him than take Warrior home. Within hours Warrior died in his arms.

Sleep well, Warrior, and well you sleep, because the bureaucratic arm does never sleep. It never forgets. A few days after all this they received a $300 infringement notice for Warrior. Poasa called the pound and excused them of giving his dog the Pavo virus. Although the pound denied this, they stated they would drop the infringement fee. Temporarily it seems. Half way March the family received another, undated letter, with a council letter head. Who can stop an army of bureacrats? And who can stop the Hydra of parliamentarians who want to do good?

And that is were Poasa ended his story. Reminiscing, with tears in his eyes, he remembered Fido: "He was like a twelfth family member."