FANCIERS FRUSTRATED AT LAWS.

Byline: Diane Dietz The Register-Guard

It's hard to see how anyone could get between Linda Kornhi and her seven Royal Cavaliers, the spaniels that crowd on her lap when she sits and squirm into her bed when she sleeps.

"There's no privacy in this house," said Kornhi, framed in a swirl of white-toffee-colored canines.

But a few months after Kornhi bought her house in Pleasant Hill - with 2 acres she fenced for the dogs - a neighbor counted dog noses and called the Lane County land use enforcers, charging that Kornhi owned far more than the county's legal limit of seven dogs for a noncommercial kennel.

This is how the nightmare begins, say local dog fanciers: Dog enthusiasts go about their business, somebody takes offense, the government steps in, and suddenly the pursuit of owning, showing or breeding dogs is in jeopardy.

These dog fanciers believe that government officials in Lane County and elsewhere are increasingly driven by the animal-rights movement, which holds that breeding dogs - for showing or for selling - is irresponsible as long as so many healthy dogs are being euthanized for want of a home. These advocates say a Lane County task force that studied the pet overpopulation problem is biased against them.

They say their members have felt the force of Lane County government and two have fled the county to places with less restrictive limit laws.

Kornhi hopes to stay put. "We have hedge planted all around and we're hoping it will grow really high," she said. "It's uncomfortable to feel like people are watching you. It feels like persecution." Her neighbor is satisfied with the corrective steps.

But government officials say local kennel club members are narrowly focused on their own special interests and are scornful of the many "mongrels" that are euthanized in Lane County. The government officials say these dog owners seem determined to derail an effort to create a more humane animal control system - part of which centers on enforcing limits on the numbers of dogs people own.

"This is not about blue ribbons at dog shows," said Scott Bartlett, who headed the animal regulation task force.

For every elite breeder, there are 10 for-profit outfits that exploit their dogs and market them via newspaper ads, he said.

Rural breeders "come in and open up the back of their pickups and sell dogs. There are hundreds of dogs that are being bred like this. These are cottage industries. There's a very ugly face to unregulated breeding in Lane County," Bartlett said.

Still, dog fanciers fear a new proposal to require veterinarians to report to the county the dogs they vaccinate for rabies is a veiled attempt to find whether dog owners have more dogs than the law allows.

And the limits are strict: two per household in Eugene; three in Springfield; two in Lane County rural residential zones, but up to seven with a noncommercial kennel license.

The exact dimension of the conflict is hard to determine.

The county is home to about 75,000 dogs, and owners of fewer than 20 percent have licensed them, the task force estimates.

Lane County officials say there's no easy way to sort through their records to tell how many kennels are licensed or how many have faced enforcement action, but they say they investigate at least a handful each year.

700 dogs killed

Versions of this fight are being played out nationwide.

Recent years have brought hundreds of proposals across the country, ranging from dog-limit laws to sky-high licensing fees for unneutered dogs to mandatory spay and neuter laws. Dog fanciers fear they have become an endangered species.

"People are saying this will never happen. Well it is happening, and by increments," said Lorraine Still, a sheltie fancier in Creswell.

Local dog fanciers are suspicious of the task force convened by Lane County Commissioner Bill Dwyer that spent 18 months figuring how to reduce euthanasia at the county animal shelter, where about 700 dogs are killed each year. County commissioners are expected to use the task force recommendations as the basis for proposed county code changes early this summer.

Dog fanciers are convinced that the task force was rife with animal-rights sentiment.

"There were at least two members of the animal-rights movement on the task force that really persuaded the others to include a lot more than they would have," said Eugene Scoles, a Eugene resident and fancier of German shorthair pointers. He wouldn't name names.

"Baloney," responds Bartlett, the chairman. Task force members have nothing against purebred animals, he said. One member has a purebred Pomeranian, and "I myself have a beloved beagle companion, Leo, who I adore," Bartlett said.

Allegations that the task force was somehow swayed by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals is "uninformed and rather tragic hysteria," he said.

Nationwide, just 13 percent of all dogs have been adopted from animal shelters. If Lane County residents would forgo buying bred dogs and instead adopt from the shelter, there would probably be no need for euthanasia here, Bartlett said.

Digging a hole

Locally, dog fanciers admit that they break the rules, and sneak and lie about it.

They say it's easy for them to suddenly find themselves violating the limits. A family member dies and you inherit their dog. Your favorite breed turns up at a shelter, so you take it in.

Eugene Kennel Club members are exhibitors who travel all over the country to show their dogs. They pick the best puppy out of a litter, but it takes two years for its show qualities to emerge. Also, when a breeding is retired, it becomes a pet.

"You break the law. You go into hiding and you don't license because you're over the limit," said Carol Titus, a local Sheba breeder.

Breeders shuttle their animals from one home to another to stay ahead of regulators.

They take all mention of puppy sales off their answering machines. They reword their Web sites to disguise the fact that they sell dogs, and to put county land-use inspectors off the scent.

In one case, an inspector arrived at a Veneta woman's home, counted an underlimit number of dogs but heard a cacophony of barking from an outbuilding, according to enforcement records. The county inspector couldn't get into the outbuilding. It was locked, the dog owner said. Only her absent husband had the key.

The fallout for breaking the rules can be ugly.

In Eugene, one must get rid of the excess dogs. In Lane County, one can apply for a commercial license.

But that requires a special-use permit, and the fees are $1,270 just to apply. The requirements - aerial photographs, soil tests - are complex, so the county suggests applicants hire a land use attorney. Then, the county seeks comment from neighbors.

"From my experience, people will assume the worst. When they hear you're going to set up a kennel, they're going to think it will be loud and obnoxious," associate planner Thom Lanfear said.

Cheshire resident Vicki Balter has been trying for a commercial kennel license for her Hidden Springs Kennel since last August.

She said her problems arose when she tried to renew her noncommercial kennel license. An inspector visited and saw 25 dogs - way over the seven-dog limit.

Balter has raised and trained German shepherds on her 28 acres for three decades. Her property is fully fenced and surrounded on two sides by federal forest land.

While inspectors were there, they noticed one building had no permit and a trailer was improperly placed, according to county records.

Seven months later, Balter has spent $4,000 trying to meet county requirements, and the issue still isn't fully resolved. "It gets you pretty anxious because you don't know what's going to happen," she said.

All's well that ends well

After her neighbor complained, Pleasant Hill resident Kornhi spent months worrying about whether she'd have to move.

Neighbor Frank Hotchkiss alleged Kornhi had a dozen or more dogs, easily violating the noncommercial kennel limit. Kornhi denied she topped the limit.

At her home, her dogs eat and sometimes sleep in roomy wire cages in a sunlit utility room. Each night, Kornhi romps with them in the backyard and combs their luxurious locks.

Each year she exhibits in England, where the breed originated. Cavaliers had the run of King Charles II's court in the mid-1600s.

Kornhi said she'd part with her house before her dogs.

In his complaints, Hotchkiss said he could hear Kornhi's dogs bark, but that wasn't the major issue.

He said he simply wanted Kornhi to obey the law.

Kornhi hired a lawyer and spent $1,200 putting slats in her chain-link fence. Any dog that showed a propensity for barking, Kornhi took to the vet to have their vocal chords surgically altered ($350 each time), leaving them with a whispering wheeze for a bark.

"We've done a half-dozen dogs just to make our neighbors happier," Kornhi's husband, Michael, said.

County land use inspector Don Ward visited the house last month, saw the dogs' spay and neuter certificates and heard their wheezy bark. "Oh, it's just fine," he said.

Hotchkiss said the neighborhood has gotten quieter. "It isn't a serious problem," he said.

CAPTION(S):

Linda Kornhi plays with some of her seven Royal Cavaliers in her backyard in Pleasant Hill. She and her husband took steps to settle a neighbor's complaints. Some dog lovers distrust enforcement efforts on the number of dogs they are allowed to own. Thomas Boyd / The Register-Guard Linda Kornhi feeds her seven Royal Cavaliers. Seven dogs is the limit for a noncommercial kennel license.