It is a fact that Michael Vick, the flamboyant, gifted quarterback of the Atlanta Falcons is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Every American is accorded that right, and he is entitled to no less. A grand jury indictment is not a conviction; it simply means that the jury was convinced there was enough evidence to warrant a criminal trial.

However.

That’s such a lovely word. It lets you circumvent what you know to be the legal truth and substitute what you believe to be the truth.
And I believe that if Michael Vick was not directly involved with the illegal dogfights that occurred on his property, which was apparently occupied by relatives, he knew they were taking place. And did nothing.

I believe that if he did not actually participate in the barbaric deaths of at least seven poor-performing dogs, he knew what was done to them. And did nothing.

I believe that if he knew and did nothing, he is just as guilty as if he had been up to his armpits in the whole ugly mess. Michael Vick’s silence, to me, speaks volumes. Where is his outrage?
Since Mr. Vick is a licensed kennel owner, and the Virginia location housed the aptly named—and tragically prophetic—Bad Newz Kennels, I find it hard to accept that he was blind to what was occurring on his own property, and in his own business. The alternative is to believe he knew and participated.

If the indictment is true, what does it say about a man who would raise animals for the sole purpose of watching them tear each other apart for pleasure and/or profit?

What does it say about a man who would watch a wounded, helpless animal die in fear or agony simply because it was unlucky enough to lose?

What does it say about a man who had everything, and it just wasn’t enough?
I don’t have words.