Demie Johnson of WFTV Channel 9 says neighbors on Seacrest Drive in Ormond-by-the-Sea feel like they’ve been living on alert for months, not because of a storm or a crime spree, but because two loose pit bulls keep getting out and charging people and pets.
The story opens with Martha Sugalski calling it a “scary story” and a “scary video,” while Greg Warmoth tells viewers the Ring doorbell footage is exclusive to Channel 9.
That video, as Demie Johnson describes it, shows the dogs lunging at a homeowner and biting his dog right outside the home.
When a neighborhood starts feeling unsafe in broad daylight, or in the middle of a normal walk to the mailbox, it doesn’t take long before people stop doing normal things.
That’s the mood Johnson reports from the street: families are frustrated, jumpy, and tired of feeling like they have to plan their day around whether two dogs might burst into their yard again.
A Doorbell Camera Catches The Chaos
In Johnson’s reporting, one homeowner on Seacrest Drive had to “spring into action” when the dogs came at his pet.
You can hear the panic in the moment, too, because someone is yelling, “Get out of here,” as the animals push forward.
Patti Schoenwetter, one of the neighbors, shares the Ring video with Demie Johnson and Channel 9, and her description sounds like the kind of sentence people say when they’re still replaying an ugly moment in their head.
“I heard all this commotion outside,” Schoenwetter tells Johnson, and when she opened the door, she says she saw “these two big dogs trying to attack.”
Schoenwetter doesn’t just talk about the dog that got bitten.
She also imagines what could have happened to her husband if the situation went sideways in a different way.
She tells Johnson that if her husband had fallen, “who knows,” because the dogs could have gone after him next.
That’s the part that sticks with people.
A pet attack is already awful, but it also feels like a warning shot, because a struggling owner can slip, or a kid can run, and a bad situation can turn into a tragedy fast.
Johnson also notes Schoenwetter isn’t the only neighbor with a story.
Schoenwetter tells her that several people on the street have had run-ins with the same dogs.
And she adds another detail that makes the problem feel even more out of control: she says the dogs recently went through a neighbor’s screened-in door.
That’s not a “they wandered off leash” problem.
That’s a “they’re forcing their way toward people” problem, and neighbors hear that and think, “So what happens when it’s a front door?”
“We Got No Response” And “Nothing Can Be Done”
Demie Johnson says the neighbors didn’t start by calling the news.
They say they started by calling for help.
Johnson reports that residents told her they reached out to animal services “many times” and felt like they got no response.
Even worse, Johnson says they were told that nothing could be done.
Johnson also tells viewers she got the same response when she started asking questions herself, which is the kind of thing that makes people feel like the system is designed to move only after someone gets badly hurt.
But then the story takes another turn.
Johnson reports that Animal Services admitted something the public would obviously want to know: the dogs’ owner is temporarily away from home, and the dogs have been able to escape.
That detail matters because it raises a simple, uncomfortable question.
If the owner is away, who is responsible in the moment?
Who is watching the dogs, checking fences, or making sure a gate isn’t hanging open?
Johnson’s reporting doesn’t paint this as a one-time slip.
It comes off like a repeating problem that neighbors say has been dragging on long enough to feel like a routine threat.
What Animal Services Says The Law Allows
Johnson explains that when she asked Animal Services what was being done, a spokesperson said patrols have been stepped up in the area.
The spokesperson also told her the dogs’ owner has received multiple citations for not keeping the dogs restrained on the property.
That sounds like action, and in a basic way it is.
But Johnson makes clear why the neighbors still feel stuck: Animal Services also says state law limits what the county can do beyond that, unless certain legal conditions are met.
Johnson lays out the criteria as Animal Services described them.
The dogs would need to have aggressively bitten or attacked a person without provocation, caused severe injury, killed or seriously injured another animal off the owner’s property more than once, or approached a person in a menacing manner that poses a threat.
Those details are important, because they explain the gap between what neighbors feel is dangerous and what the law is willing to officially label as dangerous.
And that gap is where fear grows.
Because from a neighbor’s point of view, a dog lunging at you and biting your pet already feels like the definition of dangerous.
From the county’s point of view, Johnson explains, there is a checklist and a process, and if the case doesn’t meet the legal threshold, the county says its hands are tied.
Schoenwetter pushes back on that idea in a way that’s easy to understand.
She tells Johnson that until something truly awful happens, the dogs are not “deemed dangerous.”
That’s a brutal way to design safety, and it’s why people in these situations feel like they’re being asked to gamble with their own luck.
My honest reaction is this: it’s hard to blame neighbors for being furious when the message sounds like, “Call us again after someone is seriously hurt.”
Laws can be written to protect due process and property rights, but if they’re written in a way that keeps officials from stepping in until after blood is on the ground, then the law is basically admitting it prefers reaction over prevention.
A Tragedy Elsewhere Still Echoes Loudly
Johnson’s report connects this neighborhood fear to something bigger that happened not long ago.
She reminds viewers that one year ago this week, 8-year-old Michael Millett was mauled to death by two dogs in a DeLand neighborhood.
Johnson says Channel 9 traveled to Tallahassee with the boy’s family as they pushed for changes in Florida’s dangerous dog laws.
That part of the story hits differently, because it’s not abstract.
It’s a clear example of what neighbors worry could happen if warnings keep getting ignored.
Johnson reports that those efforts did lead to changes: new liability insurance requirements, increased fines, and clearer procedures for impounding dogs during investigations.
That’s progress on paper.
But Schoenwetter tells Johnson she doesn’t think it’s enough, because the law still seems to revolve around proving harm after the fact instead of stopping a pattern before it becomes a headline.
And I get why that would feel insulting to people living on the block.
It’s like watching a car swerve on the highway, calling it in, and being told, “We can’t do anything unless it crashes first.”
The Sheriff’s Office Has Been There, Too
Johnson adds another layer: she reports the sheriff’s office has responded to that street for animal-related calls six times in the past six months.
But deputies told her they can’t specifically say those calls were tied to these two dogs.
Even if you take that at face value, it still signals something. Six animal-related calls on one street in half a year is not “everything is fine” behavior. It’s “people are dealing with something they can’t manage alone.”
Johnson also reports the county confirmed the owner is temporarily away, and that a relative is caring for the dogs.
That might explain the escapes, but it doesn’t erase them.
If anything, it makes the situation feel more fragile, because “temporary” arrangements are often where mistakes happen – missed locks, loose gates, or someone assuming the other person checked.
Johnson also notes Animal Services says they’ve issued citations not just for restraint issues, but also for things like vaccination records and sterilization requirements.
And Animal Services urges residents to report concerns through county dispatch, while also warning that anonymous complaints can’t be investigated under state law.
That’s a frustrating rule for scared neighbors, because some people don’t want to put their name on a complaint when they live right next door to the dog owner.
But at the same time, Johnson’s reporting makes clear the county is saying: if you want action, the report has to be tied to a real witness and a real affidavit.
This is the reality Demie Johnson captures in her story: residents feel trapped between what they’ve experienced and what the system says it can prove.
They’re watching the same dogs get loose, watching the same risk build, and being told the threshold for serious action may be higher than what any neighbor wants to live through.
And if that’s the design, then people aren’t just afraid of the dogs.
They’re afraid of the waiting game.
Mark grew up in the heart of Texas, where tornadoes and extreme weather were a part of life. His early experiences sparked a fascination with emergency preparedness and homesteading. A father of three, Mark is dedicated to teaching families how to be self-sufficient, with a focus on food storage, DIY projects, and energy independence. His writing empowers everyday people to take small steps toward greater self-reliance without feeling overwhelmed.
