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I am somewhat perplexed by all the dire predictions that last month's Supreme Court decision in Melendez-Diaz v. Massachusetts is going to paralyze the criminal justice system and allow a mass exodus of criminals to stream out of the jails. The case holds that lab analysts must appear in court to testify about their tests, rather than merely having their certificates of analysis admitted into evidence, as had been the practice in the majority of states. Writing for the majority, Justice Scalia clarifies that the Sixth Amendment guarantee that "the accused shall enjoy the right . . . to be confronted with the witnesses against him" is not satisfied by the "bare-bones statement(s)" often contained in the lab certificates.

Prosecutors and legal experts are panicking, fearing that murderers will go free, that thousands of drug and drunk-driving cases are going to be dismissed, and that ths sky will fall in on us all. Justice Kennedy, writing for the dissent warns, "Guilty defendants will go free, on the most technical grounds, as a direct result of today's decision." The governor of Virginia, Tim Kaine, announced Wednesday that he is calling a special session of his state's General Assembly to address the decision.

Surprisingly, however, Texas already requires live witnesses as opposed to certificates of forensic analysis under Cole v. State. Forensic lab analysts have been required to come to court to be cross-examined by defense attorneys in our state since 1990. The sky has not fallen, defendants still plead guilty in healthy numbers, cases are often won by the State, and I haven't seen any cell doors fling open to let swarms of murderers and rapists go free.

In other words, guaranteeing the accused their Sixth Amendment right to confrontation should not radically alter the nation's criminal justice system. It will ensure that lab reports and scientists can be meaningfully tested so juries can get the truth.

That picture over there has been my desktop background on my computer here in the office for months. It’s easy to see why, really. I mean, Rex the Wonder Dog is a pretty remarkable creature, rescuing stagecoaches whose drivers have fallen ill and all. (Not to mention fighting bulls – as in bullfighting – and saving airplanes from crashing.) I found it while I was doing some research on police dog experts, and stumbled upon this site, which is a – how you say – passionate take on the issue. The caption for the image was "America needs Rex the Wonder Dog, not Adolf the Nazi Dog”, and, okay, that might have been my Google chat status for a few weeks, too, given that it’s one of the three greatest sentences ever formed in the English language.

There’s a really interesting post about “scent lineups”, where a dog testifies in court, essentially, by picking the scent of the culprit out of a group of five, over on Grits for Breakfast. This actually happens in South Texas, apparently quite often – Grits cites the Fort Bend County sheriff’s deputy who personally administers things as claiming to have used scent lineups in over 2,000 cases, which is just staggering. Because, well – I have a dog. Before he goes out, in order to calm him down once the door’s open and he’s wearing the leash, rarin’ to go for a walk, I make him sit and then I count to five. Sure enough, he sits patiently for one-two-three-four, and then as five nears his ears perk up and he gets ready to go, and when the word five escapes my lips, he takes his first steps out the door.

I’m a rational person, and I’m not so delusional about my dog-whispering skills to believe that I’ve actually taught my dog math. I can recognize that my body language changes as I gear up to go out the door as I near five. The leash tenses, my stance changes slightly, my weight shifts to the foot I’ll be leading with, and it’s a dog’s job to be aware of these things. By the time I hit five, he’s aware that, based on subtle changes in the way I’m holding my body, something is happening.

Now imagine that a dog’s leash is being held as he’s being asked to respond to a certain scent. The deputy holding the leash has his own opinions on the guilt of the person being identified in the “lineup”, and when the dog reaches the correct scent, it seems just as likely that his body language is liable to shift and provide cues for the dog as mine is during the wait-and-count-to-five scene before going out for a walk. It’s hard not to think that, if this counts as evidence that’s held up in court, I’ve got a pretty strong case to make that I’ve taught my dog to count.