Animal Control

Go ahead, stretch out in the soft grass. It's comfortable. You're surrounded by a smorgasbord of prey. You may belong half a world away, but here in the Everglades, life is good. Except you're a Burmese python, and the state wants to hunt you down and kill you. It hasn't put a bounty on your head, but it may as well have: If caught, you're decapitated. In this moonlit world of marsh, bug and fanged danger, snake hunter Jeff Fobb is top predator.

Long Beach is going to the dogs. And as they knock on doors around there and in nearby Cerritos, Seal Beach and Signal Hill in an usual hunt for canine scofflaws, about the only excuse authorities haven't heard yet is that Fido ate the license notice. Animal control workers are going house-to-house in search of unlicensed dogs in what is turning into an unusual census of the area's dog population.

The first phone call came a couple of years ago. A man was on the line, recalled Ellen Lavinthal, president of the rescue group Animal Alliance, and he said, "I have a litter of kittens. I need to get rid of them." She picked up the kittens and dropped off a voucher that would allow the owner to get the mother spayed at a low cost. Six months later, the man called back. "He said, 'I've got another litter. Are you going to come get them?' " Lavinthal did. And she dropped off another voucher.

The bloodthirsty enemy had gathered on the city's perimeter, but this time the locals were ready. They had formed armed committees similar to the "Sons of Iraq" forces fighting off Al Qaeda in Iraq militants in western Iraq. They were gearing up for a fight. Their foes had been attacking them with increasing abandon on the outskirts of this river city 145 miles southeast of Baghdad. They struck along the harsh desert plain leading to Saudi Arabia. They came day or night.

The head of Adelanto's animal control office has been charged with multiple counts of animal cruelty after investigators said he systematically drowned dozens of kittens over four months last year. Kevin Murphy, 36, was charged Monday with six counts of killing, maiming and abusing animals and faces up to six years in prison if he is convicted.

Local water authorities have begun closing some of the state's prime fishing lakes in an effort to keep an infestation of tiny quagga mussels from fouling drinking water supplies for nearly 375,000 residents and threatening fish populations. The closure two weeks ago of Lake Casitas, a favorite of bass anglers, to recreational boat use was followed within days by similar action at Westlake Lake in eastern Ventura County.

The pigeons are hungry. They march, single-mindedly, beaks thrust forward, beady eyes darting, crisscrossing the stones of St. Mark's Square, moving in undulating formation across the open spaces, whirring like helicopters in the distance, dive-bombing at the first hint of a piece of bread or a chip. Soot-gray, with spindly coral-colored legs and claws, many just pace, pecking at stone in the hopes it will yield a crumb. This fabled city's plan to starve away the pigeons seems to be working.

If you've been on the L.A. Animal Services website any time in the last couple of months, you know the department maintains a digital countdown of the days, hours, minutes and seconds until the city's spay/neuter law goes into effect Wednesday. Now, there's less than a week to comply with the ordinance requiring most pet cats and dogs in Los Angeles to be sterilized. There are a number of reduced-cost options for sterilizing your animal.

Nothing, it seems, gets between David Grigorian and his marmoset monkey. On Wednesday, the 43-year-old Van Nuys resident found himself in court once again for harboring an undocumented primate. Grigorian has told authorities that he considers Cheeta to be a member of his family, but state Department of Fish and Game officials say the animal has got to go. In January, police arrested Grigorian for allegedly shouting criminal threats in front of a house in Van Nuys.

Ventura County social workers fanned out across the region this week to count the homeless. They trudged through river bottoms, staked out beach-side campsites and called on food pantries and social service agencies, any place where the homeless might gather. But on Friday, the homeless -- and their pets -- came to them. More than 40 people lined up outside Span Thrift Store in Ventura where, to aid the biannual count, county officials had set up a free veterinary clinic.