The Dog-Catchers of Old Seattle
A reporter spends a harrowing night in a wagon with the city's dog-catchers, witnessing the capture of pampered pets and the cold reality of the local pound.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
The city dog-catcher's cart is a shadow that prowls under cover of the night, because the dog owners are liable to rise from their beds at will and the street urchin is not fast enough to follow the cart. The pound-master and three assistants here take the responsibility of keeping the city of Seattle free from stray dogs. A reporter who has now and then seen a dog-catcher's cart sneak along the night by the light of the moon became interested in what he learned from a brief interview with the boss catcher and gained permission to accompany the force. It had been decided to start at dusk, but the trip was postponed until early morning. When the clock pointed to two, the assistants were awakened from their slumbers and the wagon set out. They made several catches on Thompson and Spring streets, including terriers, spaniels, and poodles. The dog-catchers seemed to be moving with a systematic efficiency, with one assistant walking in advance, another behind, and the reporter following with his notebook. The dog-catcher McDonnell made a swift, manual clutch, and a poodle, hoping to run into the arms of his owner, found himself lifted and suspended in mid-air. He was soon in the cart, forgetting his trouble in his new, unwilling friends. At Green Street, they found a gentleman with two pretty fox terrier puppies; one was attached to a string and safe, but the other cavorted around in unbridled, happy freedom. The wagon stopped, and it was the work of a moment to scoop up the puppy. The gentleman cried out in protest, but he soon comprehended the situation when he was met by the stern response of McDonnell: 'Go to the dog-pound on Second Street and the river.' The dog-pound is a long, one-storied building jutting out over the water. Each dog taken from the wagon is ticketed with the date of arrival, there by obtaining a lease of life of at least one week, during which time he may be redeemed for a payment of $1.50. The tally showed a total of twenty-six dogs as the result of the morning work. For each one, the dog-catcher receives 50 cents.
“A poodle, hoping to run into the arms of his owner, found himself lifted and suspended in mid-air.”
This 1890s account of dog-catchers roaming Seattle at night highlights the early, often brutal methods used to manage public space and urban property. While the 'pound' has evolved into modern animal control services, the underlying tension between city authorities and pet owners over the definition of 'stray' versus 'property' remains a classic, recurring Seattle civic debate.
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