In October of 1995, an anonymous caller complained to the Susquehanna County Humane Society in Montrose, PA about animals in her neighborhood that were not being fed or taken care of properly. This was the start of an investigation that went on for several months resulting in grisly discoveries and arrests for animal cruelty.
Humane Society Police Officer Chris Jemmott, a former New York City Police Officer, responded to the anonymous call, and discovered a German Shepherd tied outside without a dog house. There was food. He later learned it was placed there by some neighbors. He instructed the owner, Oliver Moore, to provide proper shelter for the dog, and returned regularly to check on the dog and the other animals on the property which included horses, two English Setters, and two wolves.
Jemmott made many return trips, each time leaving notices on the door. All were ignored. He was unable to check on the "inside'' animals because Moore was never at home.
Throughout this time, the anonymous calls continued. They told the Humane Society the Moores had moved out, but someone had seen a cat in the window. They feared other animals might be in the house. The neighborhood was getting stirred up! Moore was elusive. Try as he would, Jemmott just couldn't locate him. He also was having a hard time convincing the District Attorney that he needed a warrant to remove the animals.
Despite obstacles, on January 12, 1996, two months after the first calls, Jemmott obtained the needed warrant which expired in two days. He only had a mere forty-eight hours to pin Moore down and rescue the animals. Then the snow came. Almost two feet of the powder was dumped on the area that Saturday. Sunday morning, January 14, was Jemmott's last chance. Jemmott called the Pennsylvania Sate Police who said they would come "just to keep the peace.'' When Jemmott and the Humane Society personnel arrived, there was a local television news crew there, but no State Police. They waited for two hours, out of sight of Moore, but where they could observe him as he moved about his property.
Neighbors
appeared, and an argument ensued. "He [Moore] was waving a shovel,'' Jemmott
said, "and then he picked up a rifle that he had near the barn. That's
when I decided I had to go in -- the State Police just weren't going to
come . He put the gun down when he saw me,'' Jemmott said. "I showed him
the warrant, and asked him to take me in the barn.''
There, lying in the doorway of the barn, was a dead horse. It was later learned that one of Moore's three horses was allergic to hay. Since hay was all Moore had been feeding them, he simply stopped feeding them. One of the horses found its way to a neighbor's barn, looking for food. When the neighbor complained, Moore locked all three horses in the barn. Jemmott arrived too late to save the one which died from starvation. Somehow Moore learned Jemmott was coming with the warrant. He attempted to drag the dead horse out of the barn in order to hide it. He got it as far as the door and could go no farther. Undaunted he went to a neighbor's and asked to borrow his chain saw. When the neighbor learned that Moore intended to use the chain saw to cut up the horse, he refused to let him use it. Moore later said he intended to feed the dead horse to the wolves.
The other horses were missing. Apparently, when Moore
learned Jemmott was coming with a search warrant, he started to panic.
He attempted to hide the horses by "selling'' them to a friend. Fate intervened
at this point and Moore unknowingly made a wrong move. The Notary Public
who notarized the sale of the horses was on the Humane Society's Board
of Directors. She notified Jemmott of the whereabouts of the horses and
they were picked up two days later.
When the time came to enter the house, Moore would
not allow the news crew in, stating his wife wasn't a "very good housekeeper.''
What Jemmott and the others saw was "indescribable.''
"There was debris
and animal feces everywhere,'' Jemmott said. "The temperature in the house
was 13 degrees. There were three cats in the downstairs that were difficult
to catch, but we got them. I don't know how they lived in that freezing
cold with no food or water.''
Then Jemmott asked Moore, "What's upstairs?''
"You know what's upstairs,'' he answered. "What used to be the dogs.''
The upstairs contained a bathroom and three bedrooms. The bathtub was partially full of solid ice. The bedrooms' windows and doors were boarded up and there were dog-sized holes in the walls between the bedrooms. On the walls were claw marks as high as six feet up. It was in these rooms Jemmott discovered the three dogs -- dead. Two English Setters and a Cocker Spaniel had succumbed to death in the cold, deprived of food and clean water.
"They were just skeletons with fur on them,'' Jemmott said. An autopsy later confirmed they had starved to death. The only thing found in their stomachs was the linoleum they had eaten from the floor in their desperate attempt to stay alive.
The court case dragged on from January to October.
The animals were ordered held as "evidence'' until its resolution. This
meant the wolves would be held in cages meant to contain dogs -- not freedom
loving wolves.
Meanwhile, Oliver Moore enlisted in the U.S. Army. Despite an agreement in June with Moore's father-in-law, the original owner of the animals, the local magistrate would not allow the animals to be released until Moore could sign the papers in person. Moore managed to fail basic training. That meant again postponing the release date until he could successfully complete basic training. However, he failed a second time. Finally, on October 10, 1996, the animals were released to the Humane Society for placement. These two wolves had endured neglect, loneliness, hunger, severe confinement and lack of love and companionship. Now it was time to send them to the loving homes they deserved.
In June, when it appeared that resolution of the case was imminent, it was time to find a proper place for the wolves. As a volunteer with the Susquehanna County Humane Society, I was determined that they would go to a place where they would be treated like wolves and given the respect due them. Through a single post to a news group on the Internet, I located the Loki Clan Wolf Refuge in N. Conway, NH. With the help of Loki volunteer and email go-between, Lee Savary, I connected with the director, Fred Keating, who agreed to take them.
When the October release date arrived, the Humane Society was in the worst financial condition it had ever known. So low on funds they were at risk of closing their doors, they didn't know if they could afford to pay the relatively low expenses of the trip. So, when I called Fred to confirm the "reservations,'' he informed me there was a lady in Connecticut who would be willing to help with the transport. I felt our prayers had been answered. Annie B. was an Asst. Director for Guardians of Wildlife. She contacted me. We made plans for the trip; picked a rendezvous point; and marked our calendars for October 17, 1996.
However, our troubles were not over yet. A third party had surfaced at the District Attorney's office on October 15, claiming to be the "true'' owners of the wolves. The Assistant D.A. called Chris Jemmott and said, "If I were you, I wouldn't move those wolves.''
These wolves had already waited far too long for their chance at freedom and a peaceful life. We were not to be daunted. I knew of an attorney who frequently handles animal related cases. I called her and outlined the situation. She said, "If they gave those wolves away, then they relinquished ownership. Those are grounds for abandonment. You tell them that your lawyer said, `If they sue, we will charge them with cruelty to animals.' The animals belong to you. Get them out of there!''
Still wary, fearful of doing the wrong thing, and unsure of how the Humane Society Board would react to this warning by the D.A., I consulted a second attorney. He basically said the same thing. "If I were you, I'd just get them out of there.''
Throughout all of this, Annie B. and I had kept in touch via email and telephone. We were still worried these people might cause trouble. Annie asked, "Is there somewhere you could move them tomorrow just for an overnight?''
"But where?'' I asked. "How many people do you know that could take in two wolves as overnight guests?''
Luckily, I did know someone...a wildlife rehabilitator. Not only did she have the room, but it was legal for her to hold them. "Sure,'' she said, "I can take them.''
Throughout all of this, my naiveté was remarkable. I was high on enthusiasm and, as it turned out, rather low on planning. The plan was to put the two wolves in the back of the Humane Society's Toyota pick-up truck (which has a cap), and off we'd go...Wolves-Will Travel. Annie and Lee strongly recommended putting them in cages. We didn't have any big enough to accommodate them for what was expected to be a nine hour trip. Once again, my rehab friend came through. She loaned us two carriers. In fact, Rose, her Pot Bellied Pig, gave up her night time lodging for the cause. Although the female fit nicely, the male was, unfortunately, too large for his carrier. Off my friend went again, reclaiming a dog crate from her brother. This worked fine, and the carrier and cage fit in the back of the truck without an inch to spare. We began shortly before 8:30 a.m. It was 1:00 p.m. by the time we found the right size carriers, and coaxed the wolves into them. The 20 minute drive to the wildlife facility was uneventful and we got a chance to see how the wolves would travel. They seemed to do well, and we were relieved. No one but the few of us knew where the wolves were located. Now we just had to wait until morning.
When Thursday morning arrived, we were ready and excited. Wolfie and Bonnie (I changed her name from "Bones,'' the name she came with) were on their way to their new home. It was a long trip. Three hours to where we met Annie, then another nine hours to Loki Clan, much longer than we had expected. Human and wolf alike were tired, but the trip, and the rescue, had been successful.
At last report from Lee, Tonka and Yuma (their names
were changed to protect the innocent) were still skittish, but seemed to
be adjusting nicely. Not a day passes that I don't recall what we promised them as they were leaving that October morning: "No one will
ever hurt you again.''
Post Script: On October 31, 1996, Christine Moore was sentenced in Susquehanna County Court. Judge Kenneth Seamans said, "This is the worst case of animal cruelty this court has seen." Moore pleaded nolo contendere to one second degree misdemeanor count of cruelty to animals and was sentenced to thirty days to twenty-three months incarceration. She was ordered to pay a $500 fine on the misdemeanor charge, plus a $50 fine on each of the five summary offenses in addition to court costs. She was also ordered to pay restitution to the Humane Society in an amount to be determined by the probation office at a later date. She was further ordered to perform fifty hours of community service at an animal shelter. She was prohibited from owning any pets without express permission of the probation office.
Before leaving the courtroom, Moore's lawyer successfully petitioned the court to have her sentence amended to thirty days of house arrest under electronic monitoring instead of jail time. This means that once Ms. Moore has successfully completed her probation period she is free to own animals again without any court supervision.
In a prior plea bargain agreement Oliver Moore pleaded guilty to five summary offenses for which he received a $500 fine, and was ordered to pay court costs of $72.50. He is also free to own animals without any court supervision.
As of this writing, Dec. 28, 1996, Moore had
not paid any of the fines, and the magistrate had failed to issue a warrant.
2004 Update: Tonka and Yuma continue to live happy, healthy
lives at Loki Clan Wolf Rescue. I've received photos and stories
from Loki Clan throughout the years, and they always bring tears to my
eyes. The promise made to them has been kept: no one will ever hurt
them again.