GONE TO THE DOGS

The selling of dogs (more than 200,000 last year) has become one of Lancaster County's most dependable farm products. It allows some Plain farmers to stay on farm. State oversight is spotty, animal-rights activists are barking.

http://www.lancasteronline.com/pages/news/local/4/13412

By Gil Smart
Sunday News

Published: Apr 10, 2005 12:34 AM EST

LANCASTER COUNTY, PA - Two or three times a month, Debby Ford of Millville, N.J., comes to Lancaster County and heads home with a barking, boisterous load of 50 to 60 puppies.

Ford and her husband are actually small players in the dog brokerage market. Some large companies "buy as many dogs every week as I do in a month," said Ford.

The dogs are bought to be resold to pet stores or perhaps research facilities. Ford supplies five, sometimes six pet stores in and around New Jersey, one of several states where that doggie in the window almost certainly comes from Lancaster County.

The dog industry in Lancaster County is only a few decades old, but it is big, and it is growing. More than 200,000 dogs were "produced" and sold here in 2004; there are more registered breeders here than in any other county in the nation.

The breeders are almost entirely Amish or Mennonite, and most sell not to the public but to the brokers, or "distributors," who come here with trucks, vans, station wagons or trailers. Lancaster County supplies puppies to much of the eastern United States; by anyone's count, said Ken Brandt, a former state representative from Falmouth who now lobbies for breeders in Harrisburg, it is a "major, multi-million dollar industry."

Just how big it is, though, is hard to determine. The Pennsylvania Bureau of Dog Law, under the auspices of the Department of Agriculture, doesn't track the sale of dogs the way it does the sale of hogs or hay, cattle or corn silage. No one can say exactly what the industry is worth.

But many say that it has been an invaluable factor in keeping Plain families down on the farm. Without the income from dogs, said Brandt, "many families wouldn't be able to pay their mortgages."

Yet the industry remains a lightning rod, attracting critics from all over the country. A billboard on the Pennsylvania Turnpike bids visitors welcome to Lancaster County, "home to hundreds of puppy mills"; sick dogs sold at one local (non-breeding) kennel have grabbed headlines in recent months; animal advocates have taken the battle to local zoning meetings, showing up to protest almost any time a farmer seeks a variance to raise dogs. Some breeders and brokers operate illegally, without a license; no one knows how many, and regulators are ill-equipped to stop them.

Nevertheless, the industry continues to grow, driven by a strong demand, our proximity to major markets, and, said Brandt, the quality of local dogs.

All of it has combined, he said, to make Lancaster County "the biggest exporter of puppies in the United States."

The beginnings

Libby Williams, head of New Jersey Consumers Against Pet Shop Abuse and an energetic foe of puppy mills, said Lancaster County's dog industry began in earnest in the early 1980s: "At a meeting in November 1981," she wrote on her Web site, "several hundred Amish and Mennonite farmers were told they could raise and sell puppies to the public and pet stores alike, and with little or no overhead, they could make a fortune."

One local Amishman knew nothing of that meeting, but said Plain farmers have always been on the lookout for new, profitable ventures.

Decades ago, Amish farmers bred rabbits until the bottom fell out of the bunny market; more recently, one farmer wanted to breed and sell worms; he sank money into the project and was ready to go when he fell ill and died.

"We did get a lot of good dirt out of that, anyway," said the Amishman.

By the mid-1990s, the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals reported that Lancaster County had the largest concentration of wholesale breeders in the United States. The Pennsylvania Bureau of Dog Law doesn't track revenues, but a 1996 New York Post article called it a $4.4 million per year industry here. It's clearly far bigger than that now.

The industry grew steadily, picking up steam in the late 1990s, when milk prices plummeted. Plain farmers were desperate for something to help make ends meet. Puppies fit the bill, and then some.

Depending on the breed, dogs can bring as little as $10 or more than $300 each, according to Nopuppymills.com, an activist Web site that tracks prices. A bearded collie may bring twice as much as a beagle; American bulldogs bring considerably more than border collies. The popularity of specific breeds waxes and wanes, as do the prices.

Anyone who sells more than 26 dogs a year must be licensed by the state. There are 193 licensed breeding kennels in Lancaster County; nearly one-third - 60 - have a "K-5" license, permitting them to sell more than 251 dogs per year. Altogether, K-5 kennels produced 152,158 of the 205,113 animals sold here in 2004.

State law does not require the Bureau of Dog Law to track the number of dogs sold by each kennel, and the agency doesn't.

Another 24 kennels have a K-4 license, permitting them to sell 151 to 250 dogs yearly; there are 34 K-3 kennels that can sell 101 to 150 dogs; 37 K-2 kennels that can sell 51 to 100 dogs; and 38 K-1 kennels that can sell 27 to 50 dogs annually.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture also licenses wholesale breeders; of the 133 USDA licensed breeders in Pennsylvania, 81 are in Lancaster County.

Many unlicensed

Unlicensed breeders are a problem; state officials have said there may be hundreds of them. Animal advocates like Libby Williams said it's simple for Plain farmers to raise and sell dogs without a license, faking paperwork, perhaps funneling the animals into the market via a family member who does have a license.

Mary Bender, director of the Bureau of Dog Law, said her agency has no way of knowing about unlicensed breeders unless someone complains.

The Bureau of Dog Law inspects each kennel twice a year, sometimes more often if there have been problems; the USDA conducts annual inspections as well. Still, activists say bad conditions prevail, as sanitary and humane violations are inevitable when dogs are being raised on such a large scale.

And sick dogs periodically show up at retail outlets, such as from the Puppy Love kennel in Peach Bottom, where since December more than two dozen pet buyers have complained of getting dogs that turned out to be very ill. Some died. Pennsylvania's Puppy Lemon Law was passed in 1998 to provide recourse to such consumers; state officials are talking about toughening that law.

But a local Amish breeder said such stories lead people to incorrectly conclude the local industry is churning out diseased animals. "There are a lot of good breeders," he said flatly, dogs barking from inside a closed kennel about 25 yards away.

"Anyone who is breeding bad dogs isn't going to be in business long."

8 weeks old

When the dogs are ready - state law stipulates they cannot be sold before they are 8 weeks old - the brokers come around.

Brokers are licensed by the state as well as the USDA; Pennsylvania has issued about two dozen such licenses.

Williams said Mondays and Tuesdays are the biggest days. Smaller brokers, like Debby Ford, buy a few dogs or a few dozen dogs; larger firms, such as Missouri-based Hunte Corp. or Kansas-based Lambriar, can buy hundreds, transporting the animals in huge trucks. The dogs are usually taken to a facility where they are examined and bathed prior to being shipped to pet stores or, sometimes, facilities where they are used for medical research.

Libby Williams has identified several unlicensed brokers who buy dogs here, sometimes even advertising "dogs wanted" in Lancaster Farming. The Sunday News called the numbers listed in three such ads and left a message; none of the messages was returned.

The Bureau of Dog Law's Bender said the state can only go after illegal brokers if there is a specific complaint. But Williams said she was told that the bureau "could not have the kennel owners police every buyer that comes into their kennels."

Williams said unscrupulous and unlicensed buyers pay as little as $10 per puppy, and get an even better deal when buying "litter lots." This, she said, has been going on for decades.

"Honestly," she said, "what kennel owner is going to turn down a cash sale?"

Careful breeders

Lobbyist Brandt, however, said that while unlicensed breeders and buyers exist, legitimate breeders are very careful, both in the way they do business and the conditions in which they keep their dogs.

"If [the breeders' association] hears of anybody having an unlicensed kennel, we go out and we say, 'We know you're raising dogs,' " Brandt said. "We frown upon it," he said; it gives the industry a bad rap.

Many municipalities require zoning variances for farmers who want to raise dogs; in recent months, animal advocates have turned out in force at meetings to oppose new kennels. Caught in the middle are officials, some of whom acknowledge the role that dog breeding has played in keeping farming viable in their communities.

In early February, West Hempfield Township approved plans for a kennel at a farm on Garfield Road, Mount Joy, over the opposition of neighbors, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals and other foes of commercial breeding. One activist subsequently e-mailed a complaint to township manager Charles Douts; she posted his response on her Web site.

"The Amish community has turned to raising dogs because of the economics of farming," wrote Douts. The township, he said, is "attempting to preserve farmland and our heritage. This is one business which is profitable and is supplementing the farm income .....

"Since the demand exists for such animals, I would prefer a puppy from the Amish rather than other large supply operations," Douts wrote.

In posting his e-mail, the activist wrote, "Do you believe the stupidity?"

Hogs and dogs

Indeed, it's difficult to separate the business from emotion. Those who fight large-scale breeding operations say that Plain farmers need to realize that there is a difference between "companion animals" like dogs and other livestock. Or as Sue West, president of the Humane League of Lancaster County's board of directors said at a recent public meeting on the puppy mill issue, "You can't compare hogs to dogs."

Many breeders believe they are being unfairly targeted by zealots, and the media, who have no idea how vital the business of breeding has become to the Plain community.

"This is very important to a lot of people," said the Amish breeder.

"If we don't breed the dogs, someone else will."