This is an interesting article, that was in ajc.com today, that I
thought might interest some of you.

You can find the article at:
http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/met...305/13vet.html

Article copied from AJC.com:

Forensics: Veterinarian blazes medical trail
Fulton County vet plays crime detective in cases of animal abuse

By PAUL KAPLAN
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 03/13/05

The kitten was 8 weeks old, and already it had been to hell and back.
There was blood in its lungs, and one side of its head was smashed.

The young couple that brought the little white Persian to the
veterinarian said it was hurt in a fall from a countertop.

No way, Dr. Melinda Merck said to herself.

First of all, cats are nimble and usually land on all fours. But even if
it had fallen, a 2-pound kitten would not generate enough force to cause
such severe injuries.

As she examined the cat, Merck ruled out the possibility of a car having
hit it because it had no abrasions. As soon as the couple left, she
called animal control.

An officer went to interview the couple, and the young man finally
admitted he'd slammed the kitten into a wall.

That was Merck's first experience in medical sleuthing, back in 1990.
Fifteen years later, she's a leading authority in the emerging field of
animal forensics.

Fulton and Cobb counties bring her in regularly to help investigate and
treat abused and neglected animals. She got the call last month when 205
cats were found inside a house in Alpharetta. All but 26 were dead.

Merck could not have handled a case of that magnitude a decade ago. Back
then, she was teaching herself animal forensics because nobody else was
doing it. It was like fishing off the end of the world.

In those days, even the worst cases of animal abuse could be prosecuted
only as a misdemeanor in Georgia and most other states. As a result,
many prosecutors were uninterested.

Claudine Wilkins, a former Cobb County prosecutor now in private
practice, recalls the time she was visiting a judge in his chambers to
discuss an animal abuse case when he told her: "If I can't sit on it or
eat it, an animal is useless to me."

"That's the mentality we're dealing with," said Wilkins, who does legal
advocacy work for abused animals.

Then, in 2000, the Georgia Legislature passed the state Animal
Protection Act, which turned the worst cases of abuse into felonies.
That changed things.

A nonprofit called Georgia Legal Professionals for Animals was formed,
mainly by volunteer lawyers and paralegals willing to help prosecute
animal abusers. They were badly needed because felony convictions are
harder to win. They require proof of abuse that was "knowingly and
maliciously" com- mitted.

"To reach that higher standard, you need good science," said Randy
Lockwood, vice president of the Humane Society of the United States and
an animal forensics expert. "Dr. Merck and a couple of other people are
on the cutting edge of trying to move that field along."

It's been a slow process, but animal forensics has advanced
significantly since Merck got started. She had to learn by hanging out
with crime scene investigators (CSIs) at human crime scenes and with
coroners during autopsies.

With virtually no animal forensics or legal help back then, it was open
season on animal abuse. When cases were so horrific that charges were
filed, Merck said, "It was just he said/she said."

Now, with forensic specialists involved, it's he said/she presents the
evidence. One reason animal forensics remains in its infancy is that
veterinary schools don't teach it. Merck and Dr. Paige Carmichael, a
pathologist at the University of Georgia Veterinary School, have put
together a proposal to teach a course as an elective at UGA. It would be
the first in the nation.

A growth industry

What has been growing much faster than animal forensics is animal law.

"Eight years ago, when I got out of law school, there weren't any animal
lawyers," Wilkins said. "Now they're all over the place."

A big reason is that more than 20 law schools have courses in animal
law, including Harvard, Lockwood said.

Wilkins predicted that animal forensics will have a similar growth
spiral when vet schools start teaching the course. What the students
will learn is that there are similarities between human and animal
forensics. The study of bullet trajectories and stab wound angles are
similar in both, for example.

And there are major differences. Animals have completely different blood
types than humans, and they don't bruise externally like humans do
because their skin is built for life in the wild and for fighting. The
biggest difference is that there's only one human species compared with
countless animal species. As the species change, so do the forensics.

That's fine with Merck.

"I like challenges," she said. "I like puzzles."

She also likes animals, of course, and is not shy about it. The bumper
sticker on the back of her Lexus says "I (heart) cats" and her cellphone
ring is the theme from "The Pink Panther."

Animals, Merck said, "don't give you grief, they return affection, and
they listen well." She gives the love right back by helping the
authorities make cases against people who intentionally hurt animals.
She just might be a dog's best friend.

When she was growing up in Lubbock, Texas, Merck would bring home
injured cats and birds, "much to my parents' dismay."

Now she's a veteran of the animal abuse wars who recalls horrible cases
in a detached clinical monotone, as if she were dictating the list of
wounds to a tape recorder. But suddenly she'll pause in midsentence and
become teary-eyed. She'll turn away reflexively, reach into her purse
for a Marlboro Ultra Light, and fire it up. Then she'll turn back and
calmly resume the monotone.

"We deal with very sad cases, very nasty things done by very violent
people," Lockwood said. "Melinda offers a good blend of the heart and
the head. She gets emotionally involved in the issues but doesn't let
that disable her."

Abuse breeds abuse

Since she started working in forensics, Merck has come across animals
that had been shot, beaten, burned, skinned, stabbed and sexually
assaulted. What possesses someone to do that sort of work?

The obvious reason is not the initial one that people like Merck and
Lockwood cite. Yes, they care about animals, but first, they say, they
care about humans.

Study after study has shown that people who abuse animals are much more
likely to later abuse humans. The connection between animal cruelty and
child abuse is especially clear-cut.

"One out of every five cases of animal abuse typically had a domestic
abuse or child abuse case attached to it," said Wilkins, the former Cobb
prosecutor. "Whenever we got a case of animal abuse we asked if there
were small children in the home. If there were, [the Department of
Family and Children's Services] was called in."

Children and pets can't defend themselves, so they're easy marks for
abusers, the wide majority of whom are males. They often hurt a pet to
control their wife or female partner, experts say. A study at a shelter
for battered women in Utah found that more than 70 percent of their
partners had threatened, hurt or killed a family pet.

Serial murderers typically start out as animal abusers, studies have
found. From the Boston Strangler to Jeffrey Dahmer and many of the
big-time killers in between, early animal abuse was a common thread.

The house of dead cats

When Merck was summoned to the house in Alpharetta with 179 dead cats,
she took note of the investigative team on the scene. There were police
investigators, animal control officers, a county prosecutor and police
officers to secure the site.

"It was just like a regular crime scene," Merck said. "It was like 'CSI'
and 'Law & Order' and 'Third Watch' all in one. Everyone who should have
been there was there."

To Merck, that spoke volumes about how far the movement to protect
animals has come.

Animal hoarding, as the Alpharetta situation is called, is different
from traditional abuse cases. The devastation comes from neglect instead
of violence. And whereas animal cruelty is almost always done by males,
hoarding is usually done by females. In the Alpharetta case, homeowner
Lauri Lockwood, 45, has been charged with aggravated cruelty to animals
— a felony punishable by up to five years in prison and $15,000 in
fines. Other charges are possible after evidence is presented to the
grand jury.

Hoarding has become "extremely common," said the Humane Society's
Lockwood (no relation to the suspect). "We see 5,000 to 7,000 new cases
each year." The worst he's seen had more than 1,000 animals at one
residence.

Lockwood said he considers animal hoarding a form of mental illness.
Merck thinks it's "too complex to just say, 'They're crazy' " In any
case, she does not think neglect is less of a crime than violence.

"What's more horrific," she said, "someone who shoots a dog or someone
who starves a dog over several months?"

After she completed her CSI work in Alpharetta, Merck took the 26
surviving cats back to her clinic. All are improving, she said.

Meanwhile, Fulton County Animal Services is busy arranging adoptions —
screening applicants, accepting letters of recommendation, even visiting
prospective homes.

"They're making people who want to adopt them jump through hoops because
of what these cats have been through," Merck said. "They want to make
sure they'll never be traumatized again."