Ten-year-old Erin Ingram has been reluctant to tell new classmates how she lost part of her left arm and full function in her right one almost two years ago.
But in a press conference Monday, she said she would gladly talk to state lawmakers. It appears they’ll listen.
“If you own a vicious dog and it’s attacked someone, you should be instructed to go to jail for two years, no, five years, minimum,” Erin said in a press conference after school. “They can make that happen.”
Erin was mauled by two pitbulls while playing in her Lithonia neighborhood in March 2010. The dogs’ owner, Twyann Vaughn, began serving a 16-month jail sentence Monday after a DeKalb County jury last week found her guilty of six misdemeanors in the attack.
Erin and her family believe state law should change, not only so future violators serve more time. They want a stronger deterrent from attacks happening at all.
On the first day of the new Legislative session Monday, key lawmakers said they already had heard news of Erin’s tale. Because of her, efforts to update state law on dangerous and vicious dogs may succeed after a decade of talk.
“That little girl lost an arm,” said Wendell Willard, chair of the House Judiciary Committee and sponsor of one of three bills that could be used to change state law. “We can certainly do something.”
Willard, R-Sandy Springs, has a pending bill (HB 440) that deals with the state’s animal cruelty laws but could also be amended beyond that. Retired veterinarian Gene Maddox, R-Cairo, sponsored two other proposals. Both House Bill 148 and House Bill 685 try to make definition and punishment more clear by revamping the entire state law.
The proposals will get hearings this year, said House Agriculture Committee Chairman Tom McCall. “We have just got to be careful, to get it right,” he said.
Supporters of an overhaul point to confusing language in the state’s current law as the problem. Dangerous dogs, for instance, are defined as those that have already bitten someone. That means the animals get one free bite before an owner can be held accountable.
“It’s a mess because it was done piecemeal over years,” said Claudine Wilkins, an attorney and former Cobb County prosecutor who focuses on child-welfare and animal-welfare issues. “It should be streamlined and the penalties increased so we can attack a very serious problem.”
Willard said the state may end up looking to DeKalb’s vicious dog law as the model. Though still lengthy, the county’s ordinance defines both vicious and dangerous dogs as those that anyone tells an owner that the dog has attacked, bitten or menaced someone.
That clarity is why DeKalb Soliticitor-General Sherry Boston pursued local, not state, charges against Vaughn and why she, too, said she would meet with lawmakers if asked.
Erin’s mother, Tawonna Ingram, said her family would be willing, too.
“I looked at the statue, and it’s almost like someone has to be viciously attacked before the law comes into play,” Tawonna Ingram said. “I don’t think anyone should have to suffer first.”
In court testimony, it was clear how much Erin suffered. She spent two months in the hospital after the attack and still attends regular physical therapy and counseling to tend to the scars left behind.
Erin captivated the courtroom with her own testimony about the scars, revealing only her smiling face and ankles that escaped significant bite injuries.
She avoids sharing such details with her fifth-grade classmates in Lawrenceville, where her family moved this fall to get away from the scene of the attack.
She gives different answers to those who ask questions. A favorite is flexing her weakened arm when someone asks what happened to her arm.
“I say,’ it looks OK to me,’” she said, knowing being mischievous means no follow-up questions.
Tawonna and Tommie Ingram are proud of that cheer and determination, though they say their daughter was always had a can-do, positive attitude.
That personality carried her through 10 major surgeries, which have so far run a price tag well into the six figures. With additional surgeries and new prosthetics needed as Erin grows, medical bills are expected to easily exceed $1 million.
The Ingrams plan to file a civil lawsuit once appeals are exhausted in Vaughn’s conviction, though it’s unclear what assets or insurance policies she had, said family attorney Kevin Adamson.
The focus in the meantime is settling back into a routine. Erin still attends regular physical therapy to help adapt to basic skills but has already learned again how to write, do her own hair and play. She taught herself how to tie her shoes with one hand, a skill she shrugs off as a necessity.
Free time is spent playing soccer, romping on the playground or with her dog, a Chihuahua named Smiley.
“I still like dogs,” Erin said. “I just don’t like the vicious, mean ones.”
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