Dog Attack Trial Opens

Prosecutors told a jury on Tuesday that an owner of two giant attack dogs stood by as the animals ripped out the throat of Diane Whipple, but a lawyer for defendant Marjorie Knoller said she actually risked her own life in a failed effort to save the 33-year-old lacrosse coach.

In opening statements to a jury of seven men and five women in the controversial dog mauling case that was moved to Los Angeles to ensure a fair trial, San Francisco Deputy District Attorney James Hammer said police officers stumbled on a horrifying scene when they answered a distress call on Jan. 26, 2001 after the frenzied attack.

"What the (first police officer) saw in the hallway was a ... woman with head to toes no clothes on her whatsoever. She was covered in blood and crawling toward her apartment. Every shred of clothing had been ripped off her body by the dogs ... She was pushing herself up with her throat ripped out," Hammer told the jury in his opening statement as photos of the victim were shown on a giant screen.

Knoller, 46, is accused of second degree murder in the case while her husband, Robert Noel, 60, who was not present during the mauling, is charged with manslaughter. Knoller had the two giant Presa Canario dogs, Bane and Hera, with her in the hallway of the Pacific Heights apartment house when they savaged Whipple.

In a tearful opening statement, Knoller's lawyer Nedra Ruiz said her client desperately tried to save Whipple by throwing herself on the woman's body as the dogs tore at Whipple's neck, throat and clothes.

"I know you've seen terrible pictures of Diane Whipple today," said attorney Nedra Ruiz, her voice breaking during opening statements. "But the evidence will not show that Marjorie (Knoller) stood back and let that terrible thing happen to that beautiful girl."

Ruiz got on the floor to demonstrate the attack and she blamed a huge presa canario dog named Bane, not its owners. She referred to the dog as "this berserk beast" and "the berserko crazy dog."

"Marjorie was covered in blood," Ruiz said, showing photos taken of the defendant when she was interviewed by police. She insisted that Knoller threw her own body over Whipple's.

Knoller cried as she listened.

"No one is sorrier that Marjorie Knoller could not save Ms. Whipple than Marjorie Knoller, who risked her life to try to save Ms. Whipple," Ruiz said.

Her remarks followed a calmer presentation from San Francisco Assistant District Attorney Jim Hammer, who told jurors they must decide whether Knoller and Noel were warned how dangerous their dogs were and whether they did anything to protect others from them.

Hammer said he would show at least 30 instances in which Bane and the couple's second presa canario, Hera, attacked other people, including an incident in which one dog severed Noel's finger. He said Bane, the male dog, lunged at a pregnant woman and at a 6-year-old boy and bit one neighbor on the behind.

Hammer also focused on the relationshp between Knoller and Noel and two Pelican Bay State Prison inmates who allegedly enlisted them to raise vicious guard dogs. Their enterprise, he said, was named "War Dogs" and he promised to show jurors letters between the prisoners and defendants discussing the dogs' propensities.

"Marjorie was very concerned," Ruiz said. "She had never been in a situation where Bane had pulled her off her feet. She had never been in a situation where both dogs were not being obedient to her. ... She wanted immediately to take emergency action to protect Ms. Whipple."

The prosecutor said there was no proof that Knoller tried to stop the attack and described her as doing nothing to help the victim. While Whipple lay dying, he said, Knoller passed by her and went into her apartment to find her keys.

Hammer said Whipple, once described by Noel in a letter as "a timorous little mousy blonde," was previously bitten on the hand by one of the dogs. He presented letters from witnesses including a veterinarian who warned the couple not to bring the dogs into San Francisco because they "would be a liability in any household."

Others, he said, had suggested they put muzzles on the dogs and use special collars to control them, but they did neither.

After Whipple's death, Knoller and Noel denied they ever were warned of dangers involving their dogs and contended they had never lost control of them, he said.

Hammer quoted Noel as saying, "Bane was a wonderful mutt. ... Bane had never shown any signs of people aggression."

With that, the prosecutor showed a picture of Noel's severed finger after the attack by Bane.

The defendants sat impassively beside their lawyers as the prosecutor showed jurors photos of Whipple's injuries - the back of her neck bloodied and punctured by the dog's teeth, her buttocks and breasts, also punctured, her face covered in blood.

The photo exhibit ended with an autopsy picture of Whipple's naked body laid out on a table with all of her wounds visible. Some jurors looked away.

In the courtroom audience was Whipple's mother, Penny Whipple Kelly, who had tears on her face. Apparently overcome by emotion, the victim's domestic partner, Sharon Smith, left the courtroom when the pictures appeared.

Hammer also showed the jury an excerpt of a letter from one defendant which defined the name of the dog that killed Whipple. It said, "Bane: war dog, assassin, death, ruin, destruction."

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