Not thirty minutes after I put Nandi down to bed there is a knock on our door. I’m not stupid: with most of the people we know at the meeting, I don’t just open the door without checking. But a glance outside shows a police car!

“May I help you?” I say, as I greet the two police officers, one a tall man, the other a woman my height.

“Good evening,” the man says. “Are your parents at home?”

I shake my head. “Everyone has gone to the meeting.”

The police woman hands me a pamphlet. “Please give this information to your parents. We are hearing reports about dog fights in the area and want to warn people to both keep an eye on any pets they may have, as well as on their sons.”

“Our dog doesn’t fight,” I tell them. “He is a service dog. My sister has special needs. He sleeps in the house and does not cause trouble with other animals on the street. Even when the goats are eating our laundry, he just gives them a bark or two and gently herds them off our property.”

The police man smiled at me, then his expression became serious. “Dog fighting isn’t about dogs barking at each other or other animals. It is when people force animals to fight each other in arenas, for entertainment.”

The police woman nodded. “Not only do people gamble on this hideous crime, but it also can lead many a young man down the wrong path. We’ve heard of boys as young as ten getting caught up in it. These boys often become violent themselves and sometimes get mixed up with illegal drug use.”

I think of Melusi and the blood on his jeans, his arguments with Blaze. But I smile at the police and say, “I have not heard anything about that, but thank you for the information. I will show it to my parents.”

“Enkosi,” the police woman says.

“And it is good your dog sleeps indoors,” the police man adds. “Not only is it safer for your dog, but dogs inside are more likely to deter thieves than dogs sleeping outside.”

I don’t bother to remind the police officers that we don’t keep Silwane for safety, but for my sister’s well-being. Instead I thank them again and wish them a good night. But as soon as they are gone, I’m reading the pamphlet.

Yho, it is scary stuff! Sad, too. All those pictures of dogs looking bloody and chewed up on. My heart pounds as I ask myself, “Melusi isn’t this cruel, neh?” I mean, he’s my brother and we argue. I think he can be lazy. But he has never hit me since we got old enough for real school. Even now, he is so gentle with Nandi.

The information says that people who get involved in dog fights can lose their empathy. That especially young men who get involved in it may move on from harming animals to hurting people, becoming men who beat their wives and children. The information also claims that money made from dog fights is often used to fund other criminal activity, which further harms the community. It talks about rising drug problems and robberies.

“Oh Melusi, I hope this isn’t what you’ve been up to,” I whisper.

***

Tell us: Had you ever thought about all these consequences of dog fighting in a community? Do you know what to do if there is dog fighting in your area?