Patricia (Patti) Smith is the only dog control officer in Putnam County who also oversees a township”™s animal shelter.
“Each township must have a dog control officer, but Putnam Valley is the only one that maintains its own shelter,” says Smith, 10 years on the job, who enthusiastically claims, “I love my job so much I haven”™t worked in ten years.”
Most dogs under her care are strays, she says. “Now we are getting dogs from home foreclosures. Sometimes an owner surrenders a dog, not having anticipated the care required.”
A happy aspect of Smith”™s job is returning strays to their owners. “When they have a collar with license or a microchip, I can give the family the joy of getting their dog back.”
Smith scrutinizes a dog”™s body language. “Just because a dog wags its tail does not necessarily mean it is happy.” She studies position of tail and ears and eye contact before making her approach.
Smith has presided over the adoptions of 76 dogs, ascertaining their fitness to be placed. “Because a dog bites once does not mean that it will happen again,” she stresses. She recalls the young man who came home elated over getting a raise and tossed his lunch box on the floor. “The dog couldn”™t distinguish between joy and anger and lunged at him.”
A decade ago Smith saw more shepherd-lab mixes. Today pit bull mixes predominate. “They are natural gamey dogs with a different mind set.”
She recalls the Australian shepherd who herded neighborhood children to the bus stop. The owner was persuaded to give up the dog and it is now herding goats.
Another interesting mix that she encountered is the Native American Indian dog, shown to have wolf and sometimes coyote blood. She placed one that was highly nervous, but not aggressive.
Smith usually limits her approach to a leash and collar. “I don”™t use a rabies pole. It scares them, so I only have used it when a dog would have killed me.”
She did have one frightening experience. “I was showing a German shepherd. Two dogs in adjacent runs were fence fighting. I was walking past, slipped on black ice and fell on the shepherd. I got eight bites. The dog was confused and thought he was being attacked. I clawed my way up the fencing, called a co-worker to bring a biscuit and gently put the dog through obedience exercises before putting him back in the run. He may never have been the same otherwise. She found the animal a home with the owner of a grooming service.
Another injury resulted when she broke her foot while trying to break up a dog fight.
Euthanasia is a last resort for Smith, who had to put down three dogs for illnesses and another two for incurable aggressive behavior toward humans.
She owns a Rottweiler-lab mix with a unique history. The mother had nine puppies and only six teats. The owner tossed three pups into the trash. When found, they still had their umbilical cords. “I lost two of them. I named the surviving dog Coal.”
Raised in Peekskill, Smith received an associate”™s degree in criminology from Westchester Community College. She worked at Primrose Equestrian Center in Somers, grooming for 13 years. She then worked at Montrose Animal Hospital as a veterinarian technician for nine years before the Putnam Valley job.
“We don”™t handle cats or wild animals,” she says, “but I do some on my own time.” Some memorable events include a coyote sighting, loose horses and cows wandering up Sunset Hill.
