History column: Mansfielders did some growling in 1907

The “dog days of summer” held a special meaning for Mansfielders in 1907. It was the year of taxing, muzzling, chasing, biting and, yes, even shooting.

At least it was if you read the Mansfield News, which may have had an anti-canine editor that year. These issues come and go, depending on how well covered they are. Remember, much more recently, the summer of shark attacks?

The 1907 panic over dogs may well have been prompted by a new state law intended to fund county sheep claims. Dog owners were being taxed $1 for each male and $2 for each female. After the farmers were paid for their killed and injured sheep, the remainder of the tax was to be given to the county humane society.

It’s not hard to see that such a law resulted in many dogs having sex changes, at least on paper. It also resulted in many getting kicked out of the house, to run loose, supposedly ownerless and untaxed.

If people took pity and fed them or let them take shelter under the porch, they were liable for the tax. Property owners had to pay if their tenants did not. And if the tax assessor couldn’t find anybody to foot the bill, he was authorized to shoot the dog. The board of tax review thought this would “dispose of a good many worthless dogs.”

At the end of June 1907, the board announced there were 700 legal dogs in Mansfield although many “have been missed.”

Add to this a city ordinance that all dogs, whether or not on their own property, needed to be muzzled. How well did this work? That might be answered by a rather irreverent Mansfield News story: “Muzzles, muzzles everywhere but few muzzles fit. Big dogs, little dogs, mastiffs, rat terriers, all are muzzled.

“There are muzzles of wire, rope, cloth, strap and of metal. But usually the muzzle does not fit. The dogs themselves cannot reconcile themselves to the strange articles of inconvenience, and it is not infrequent that a half dozen members of the canine tribe can be seen lounging around the streets pulling at their muzzles in a discontented, irritated way.

“One large bull dog was seen pawing at a light cloth muzzle, He worked lazily for a few moments, then he arose and with one tremendous jerk the whole thing gave way.

“Another dog, a small fox terrier, was the proud possessor a large wire muzzle. He was safe from the large overbearing brutes, for all he had to do was to just crawl inside his muzzle whenever he saw an enemy approaching.

“It is said that the small boys are already training their pets to put their muzzles on when a policeman is seen in the distance. But this flagrant breaking of the laws should be stopped, for all the other laws such as the Sunday baseball law and the law closing the saloons on Sunday are kept.”

Reports of bites continued to roll in, whether or not the dog was muzzled, whether or not the dog was in his own yard, whether or not he was having his tail pulled by the kid next door. Postal carriers were considering carrying revolvers and telling owners of “savage” dogs that they would have to pick up their mail at the post office.

People were reporting any dangerous-looking dog to police. According to the News, a Capt. Marks responded to a call of an unmuzzled “good-sized bull dog at the corner of Main and Fourth streets. …

“When he arrived, there he found the dog … standing in front of Ashbrook’s drug store and making no effort to escape as the officer approached. In fact it paid no attention whatever to the gentleman in question — for it was a papier mache dog used in advertising some remedy for canine ills…”

The muzzle law expired at the end of August.

Peggy Mershon is a retired editor for the News Journal, where she also wrote columns on genealogy and antiques. Contact her at marwelmer@aol.com.