Nero is barking, not fiddling, and he’s in a safe place.
As his name suggests, the jet black Nero is a mixed Labrador with a little bit of terrier in him and he is looking for a home.
“He’s a great dog,” said Robert
Winters, the animal control officer for Waterford and East Lyme, while holding onto the leash. “He’s completely house-trained.”
For now, though, Nero is taking up temporary residence at the animal shelter adjacent to the Waterford Public Safety Complex.
Winters has been credited with turning around not only the animal shelter facility, but for improving animal control services in both towns.
“[Winters] is getting things accomplished,” Dan Steward, the Waterford first selectman, said.
Last month, the Waterford Elks Club named him Waterford’s “Officer of the Year” for his work revamping animal control in both towns.
Due to budget constraints, Winters is the sole municipal person in Waterford and East Lyme responsible for animal control over 66 square miles in both towns.
The shelter is a small concrete building with dog cages inside with small doors that lead to a larger fenced-off pen on the side of the structure.
And it’s loud inside, with sometimes as many as 10 dogs inharmoniously barking together.
Winters admits that the only one who does not mind the incessant yelping is Stanley, the ACO’s pet cat, charged with keeping the rats out.
Steward said Winters has been an ideal selection for the job due to his veterinarian background and his training as a police officer.
“Others just did not have that background,” he said.
“I studied to become a vet,” Winters said in an interview at the shelter, “but then I became attracted to police work.”
And Winters stresses that he’s a police officer, not just a “dog catcher.”
“The job is more police work than anything,” he said. “You need to have knowledge of courts.”
And he can, and often has to, give tickets to residents.
Winters said he sometimes has to give noise citations to dog owners whose pets are barking and causing a nuisance.
“You find yourself in the middle of neighbor disputes,” he said.
While he sometimes finds himself doing “normal” police work—traffic stops and administering DUI tests—Winters clearly relishes working with the animals.
Steward said the towns turned to him to reorganize the animal control division after years of “concern.”
“He is very competent and professional,” Steward said.
A one-man operation, Winters depends on volunteers such as Melinda Beit of Pet Pals Northeast, a regional group that spays and neuters feral cats.
“Rob really pulls together the right resources,” Beit said. “It’s a community effort.”
Winters said he works with the Connecticut Humane Society and volunteer groups to find homes for the dogs he is forced to impound, and to help find homes for stray cats.
“I don’t have room here for the cats,” Winters said. “I usually call the Humane Society.”
If Winters is forced to impound a dog, state law says he must keep it for two weeks, but some such as Nero have stayed for as long as a month.
“It’s my job to find the owners,” he said, “or then contact people to try to find them homes.”
Some breeds are more popular than others.
“English bulldogs go really fast,” he said.
But for the all-black Nero, who seems to smile a canine smile when Winters rubs his face, it might take a while.
“People are intimidated by a black dog,” he said.
As much as he can, Winters tries to get information to the public about diseases that might strike pets in the summer months.
Especially worrisome is the expected rise in the population of fisher cats—the mink-related species in the weasel family—that can carry rabies.
After letting Nero play out in front—a volunteer arrived so he’ll get his walk in soon enough—Winters sat back down at his computer amid more barking.
Does he get used to it?
“No, you don’t,” he laughed.
But does he mind helping these animals?
Not at all.