Animals' longtime protector dismounts

In 1988, when JoAnn Mauger and 13 others founded the Large Animal Protection Society, plenty of folks in Chester County thought the idea was absurd.

Why bother to launch such a do-gooder organization, local sentiment held, when there isn't a problem?

"That first year, we had 80 calls," Mauger recalls, "and at least half of them were from Chester County. Wherever there are animals, there are people who won't take care of them."

Although the Large Animal Protection Society looks out for the welfare of all sorts of large animals, including sheep, goats, cows, pigs, llamas, and alpacas, most of the complaints it receives involve horses, ponies, and donkeys, and 90 percent of those complaints turn out to be valid, Mauger says.

In May, Mauger, 66, turned in her badge as a state-licensed humane officer after serving LAPS in various volunteer capacities for 21 years, including 13 as president. During that time, LAPS investigated more than 3,500 cases of neglect and abuse and confiscated more than 400 animals from irresponsible owners in Chester, Delaware, Lancaster, and Berks Counties.

Along the way, Mauger was cursed, reviled, and threatened. One target of her intervention vowed to burn down her barn, which is why she's reluctant to reveal her address, other than to say "a small farm in southern Chester County."

None of this deterred Mauger, a blunt-talking former bartender.

"I hate bullies and people who pick on the helpless, whether they be children, old people, or animals," declares Mauger, who grew up outside Phoenixville and began riding horses when she was 8.

"She is very kind and caring about animals," says LAPS president Douglass Newbold, "but what she really has a passion for is enforcing anticruelty laws and getting the guys who are breaking the laws. Nothing makes her happier."

Some sample cases resolved by LAPS:

A woman in Lancaster County kept a white Arab gelding locked in a dog kennel. The horse was so malnourished, he was on the verge of dying. His teeth were rotten and his gums infected. The owner forfeited the horse, and he was adopted and restored to health.

A Chester County woman running a hack stable starved a mare to make her easier for novices to ride. A visiting rider found the horse all bones and covered with sores. The rider reported the horse's condition to LAPS, which took the woman to court. She was forced to forfeit the horse and pay restitution for board and recuperative veterinary fees. The township later shut down her stable.

A chestnut quarterhorse gelding was so lame from a misaligned hip that he could barely walk, yet he continued to be used for lessons. Initials had been carved into his buttocks to resemble a brand. The Chester County woman who owned the horse surrendered him to LAPS to avoid prosecution.

At an abandoned Chester County property, LAPS found a herd of 17 pygmy goats running wild. The absentee King of Prussia family that owned the property had brought in the goats to keep the brush down and had largely abandoned them. When LAPS agents visited the farm, they found one goat dead in the barn. The neglected animals were surrendered in lieu of prosecution, and LAPS volunteers took them to a member's farm, where they were adopted into caring homes.

LAPS has three licensed humane officers, with another in training, and an active board that over the years has included a couple of dairy farmers and veterinarians. Its volunteers are not dilettantes.

"Our agents live this stuff," Mauger says. "It's not something you can read in a book or get in a classroom. You can't run in and, based on five minutes of observation, decide someone is guilty of neglect."

Complaints are reported by neighbors and people who pass by farms and pastures. The volume of complaints is heaviest on Mondays - typically 15 to 20 calls - after people on weekend jaunts in the country spy animals that are rib-skinny and in obvious distress.

Before retiring, Mauger fielded those complaints and dispatched officers to investigate. "You have to know when to laugh, push, or threaten," she says. "Most people are willing to fix the problem, and we'll work with them. . . . Our goal is not to take animals. . . . Only when somebody says, 'Screw you,' do we go to court."

When a horse or other large animal is confiscated, LAPS tries to restore the animal to health and offer it for adoption. "We don't deal horses," Mauger says. The vet bill for some ailing animals can easily top $1,000.

LAPS has a budget of about $50,000. About a third of its income is private grant money from such sources as the Lenfest Foundation. The rest comes from donations and bequests that Mauger and her associates "beg" from those sympathetic to the cause. Three-quarters of the money is spent on the care and rehabilitation of animals.

Mauger devoted 30 to 60 hours a week to LAPS, she estimates. Her compensation: reimbursement for mileage and film. The psychic gratification: immeasurable.

"The law says you must feed and shelter your animals, but the law is not being enforced, and animals are suffering and dying," Mauger says. "If you're mistreating an animal, and I can poke a stick in your wheel, I'll gladly do it."

Mauger and her husband, Bob, are selling their farm. They have purchased a camper and are planning to tour the West before picking a spot to settle. Her parting wish for LAPS is that some kind soul will donate a piece of property that can serve at last as its headquarters, a place where forfeited animals can recover, where horses can be boarded and trained, where kids can learn to ride.

"After 21 years, we deserve a place of our own," Mauger says. "I think we've earned it."