3 min read

I get it. I really do. I mean, the woman abandoned her dog in the bitter midpoint of winter, leaving it to wander off to a cold and lonely fate.

Through the magic of surveillance video, we all got to see how callous and cruel an act it was. We all got to experience the animal’s confusion, fear and dwindling hope as the taillights faded and the darkness of night bore down.

It was terrible. And when we learned that days later the dog had perished, hungry and without the family it had loved, it was more terrible still.

I get it. I really do.

I still believe the sentence handed down last week was an absurdity, though. I still believe it was more about appeasing members of an angry public than it was about justice.

The woman who abandoned her Labrador retriever outside the animal shelter last January was slapped with a 90-day jail sentence. A suspended sentence, as it turned out. She was also hit with a $500 fine, which one could argue was too heavy or too light. Either way, nothing overly strange going on here.

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But then, in a final spasm of creative adjudication, the court issued the woman a lifetime ban on owning animals. Any animals. The sentence is so broadly written, this 22-year-old woman could find her home stormed by a SWAT team in 30 years if she has the temerity to go out and get herself a goldfish.

Or a gerbil, a hermit crab or a bowl of sea monkeys.

This woman night be 80 years old someday and craving a parakeet for company, but she can’t do it because the government (and a whole lot of people demanding eye-for-an-eye justice) say so.

We’re talking about a ban, imposed by the state, that dictates what this 22-year-old woman can and cannot do for the rest of her life. The sentence essentially denies her the right to learn her lesson and move on.

I can’t say I’m a fan.

When a person commits a felony, he or she relinquishes the right to vote and the right to own firearms for life. That’s on top of the original sentence and its non-negotiable. (I’m not a fan of THAT action, either, as it turns out, but that’s a column for another time.)

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Sarah Vye, who left her dog outside the animal shelter in hopes that it would be taken inside, was handed a lifetime punishment for committing a misdemeanor crime.

Those who weren’t applauding the sentence were complaining that it wasn’t harsh enough.

“Someone should throw her in the trunk and drive her out in the middle of nowhere,” opined one Facebook observer, “and dump her off in the middle of the night.”

“It’s no where’s near enough,” offered another. “What a … joke our justice system is.”

But what IS enough? Few people who watched the video of Abby wandering off into the January night will ever be satisfied with the final adjudication. The dog is dead, after all, while the woman who abandoned her lives on.

When some wretch breaks into your house, steals your stuff and violates your personal space, your desire for vengeance is huge. You want the scoundrel caught, strung up by his tender parts, and whacked like a pinata on the steps of the county courthouse.

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It’s a natural, human reaction. It’s up to the court to put that seething emotion aside and find a form of justice that’s balanced and fair, even if that justice doesn’t wholly satisfy the masses.

To me, this lifetime ban reeks of pandering: Is it really about keeping all of the planet’s beautiful creatures safe from Sarah Vye? Or is it about soothing the red-hot temperaments of those who are more interested in vengeance than they are in justice?

I love that as compassionate members of society, we are naturally inclined to protect our very old, our very young and our animals. We stand in defense of those who can’t necessarily defend themselves and that’s just awesome.

But problems arise when heavy doses of compassion and empathy strike us blind to fairness and to the possibility of repentance. We can’t really string that burglar up and turn him into a pinata on the courthouse steps. The court itself is there to guide us away from that form of extreme justice.

Theoretically, anyway.

Mark LaFlamme is a Sun Journal staff writer. Compassionate theorists can email him at [email protected].

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