She adds that in Tijuana, “We are right there all the time. We know the dogs and are there when every single one is put down. There are no closed doors — even to the public. We are trying to convince Tijuana to put some down the same day they are caught, the ones in bad shape.” Rarely do owners show up, but they hold the dogs for three days, she says, “and when it is over the weekend, it can be longer.”
In the wake of recent disease outbreaks and mass culling of dogs, Revelan says the number impounded is increasing “due to greater pressure on animal control and people turning in their dogs because they think they carry a contagious disease.”
It would not be more time-consuming, Ibarra told them, to use injections. With electrocution, workers often get bitten when putting cables on the dogs. “So I guess they process each dog individually,” Revelan says. “I immediately asked to change the conversation because none of us, at that point, wanted the details.”
Revelan has never witnessed electrocution but knows she may have to if she wants to keep raising awareness about the procedure, which is said to be not only excruciatingly painful but slow and prone to errors. She gives credit to Liebrich for continuing with the work, despite the daily traumas. “I have never seen a dog brought into the perrera that has been burned, beaten, or hit by a car. She has.”
Revelan stresses that their territory is huge, the drive to Mexicali long, and “four people cannot be everywhere,” but she says the group isn’t quitting as long as electrocution is still in use. “We will continue our efforts throughout all of the kennels that are willing to change over but don’t have the money.” That includes Mexicali’s smaller state perrera, which holds only about 20 dogs.
“Any parts of Mexico that any of us can convert is a gift for the animals.”