At an early age, Animal Care Services field operations manager Aimee DeContreras learned to respect animals just as she respected her fellow human beings.
The San Antonio Express-News reports she grew up in rural Illinois, in the small town of Garrett, where the animals worked as hard as the people. Located near Amish country, she recalls that horses and buggies outnumbered the cars in the village with 100 people.
Dogs herded the livestock on land bordered by narrow country roads. Her family's pet, an indoor/outdoor cat named Wendell, earned his keep by disposing of the mice that tried to nest in their garden.
Her caring attitude for all creatures followed her when the family moved to San Antonio. In 2002, she went to work as a CPS Energy meter reader, a job that required her to enter backyards.
DeContreras said she saw people's true colors in the way they treated their pets. She knew all of the animals on her route and was often sickened by what she saw. There were puppies chained up for months and others whose health kept deteriorating each time she saw them. There were too many times where pets didn't have food or water in the yards.
The tipping point came before the winter of 2005. The residents of a West Side home had tied a sickly, one-year-old puppy to a fence. When she climbed over the enclosure, she landed on the dog's dead body.
"It got to me," DeContreras, 43, said. "It was horrible. I've seen bad things in people's backyards on all sides of town."
Local
The latest news from around North Texas.
She didn't know she could have reported animal cruelty by calling the city's non-emergency phone number 311 or Animal Care Services. She just knew she couldn't witness any more animal neglect, so after five years she resigned.
The memory of the dead pup fueled a desire to learn how she could help these animals. She searched Google for animal care and ACS popped up on the screen, along with the shelter's mission and job openings.
She applied for a job in 2006 and was hired in 2007. It has been tough but engaging work.
She's crawled through drainage ditches to rescue pups. She's trudged through knee-high grass and clinging burrs, searching for loose dogs. She tracked a wild, 160-pound pot-bellied pig that ACS officers captured after it had dined on chocolate doughnuts she had laid out to make an irresistible trail.
She started as a kennel attendant, not making the salary she had at CPS, but with her mind at ease. Five months later, she moved up to become one of two female ACS officers, trying to solve every service call during her year on the night shift.
Her high number of completed calls contributed to DeContreras becoming a supervisor in 2010. In the beginning, the mostly older male crew had issues working for her.
"It was time to change the thought process," she said. "It was a lot of explaining and trial and error with the guys."
Change did come. People retired and went away, taking the old ways with them. The city implemented new policies that required ACS officers to engage with and educate residents about responsible pet ownership.
She was a supervisor for eight years.
"It was like being a cheerleader, giving them good direction," she said. "I got the training from the best."
Her old partner David Narvaez, a well-respected supervisor, became her mentor. He taught her not to let people run over her and to remember they were all working on behalf of those without a voice.
Their partnership ended when he died from injuries he suffered in a car accident. It took her a while to work through her grief; he was constantly brought to mind as residents talked about him fondly, remembering how he had helped their pets.
Assistant ACS director Shannon Sims praised DeContreras for keeping operations running smoothly.
"Aimee has proven to be the consummate professional in every aspect of the enforcement side of animal welfare," Sims said. "She's a proven motivator in a job that can be exceptionally challenging to keep staff motivated and focused due to exposure to potentially disturbing situations."
During her 12 years at ACS, DeContreras has witnessed scenes that are hard to forget.
The call for a dying dog near 36th Street and Inez Avenue still haunts her. It was nine years ago that she went to the house with fellow ACS officer Audra Houghton and spoke to a woman who said she didn't know what they were talking about.
Then a scrawny animal crawled out from under the West Side house into the yard. They couldn't tell if was a dog or not. A serious skin condition had produced a thick, white crust several inches deep that had hardened across the animal's head. Its body had spotty patches of fur on skin that was swollen and raw.
"We need that dog right now," she recalled telling the woman as she and Houghton took the animal into custody. The woman and her husband were later served with a cruelty warrant by ACS investigator Manuel Flores and between them served 27 days in jail and had to pay $2,000 in fines.
The officers took the little animal to the ACS clinic and veterinary staff couldn't believe that the dog was still alive. After months of treatment and care, they learned that the dog was a sheltie, a miniature collie.
"I think about that all the time," she said. "Even if we can't see it, the help pays off."
