Originally posted by bluemoon29 at PetTalez.com
Pit Bulls are vicious man-eaters!
I read that in the paper, numerous times. People all over the country are being ripped limb from limb by these savage beasts with the locking jaws. We weren’t allowed to have dogs in the building we lived in, so it was of little consequence to me. My 5 year old daughter and I lived in a modest apartment with our bunny and a couple of goldfish. I had grown up with dogs: a lab, a German Shepherd, and an American Water Spaniel…nothing fancy, just good family dogs my parents had picked out. One day, I figured I’d probably get a dog, but I didn’t realize how soon “one day” would come.
In one night’s time, living in my apartment went from relatively normal and uneventful to nightmarish. I suddenly found myself with a stalker who I did not know, and who tormented my daughter and me for weeks. The police were no help and I feared for the safety of my little girl. I knew it was time to go, and fast. I searched high and low for another apartment as spacious and affordable as mine had been, in a safe neighborhood, but came up empty. As a last resort, I swallowed my pride and asked my parents, who were divorcing, if I could move into their home. It was for sale due to the pending divorce, and neither of them lived there anymore. It was the house I’d grown up in, with a big yard in the country, where I knew my daughter and I could finally be safe from whoever was trying to scare us. They agreed, and I started packing.
It was this fear I had of the unknown that prompted me to start thinking about a dog before I even had my belongings packed. I did a little research, and decided that an English Mastiff was perfect for me. A dog that is big, loud, and threatening looking, but a gentle giant – it was ideal. Not being remotely aware of the dire pet overpopulation situation, the first thing I did was check out local breeders. $1500 was the asking price for an English Mastiff from a breeder, and I knew immediately I’d have to consider other options. It was off to the local animal shelter, to seek out my big, menacing dog. I hadn’t moved yet, but I figured there was no time like the present to start my search.
The first dog I walked was your regular, run-of-the-mill looking Shepherd mix. He was nice, but he wasn’t exactly what I was looking for. He was a little timid, and I wasn’t sure that he possessed the outgoing qualities I was looking for. I walked every big dog I could find that day, but didn’t feel that *click* I thought I would feel when I found “the one”. Disappointed, I was headed for the door when a shelter employee approached me.
“Are you looking for a dog that looks scary, but isn’t?” she asked, knowingly.
“Yes,” I replied, “but I don’t think he’s here today.”
“Before you go, I think you should meet Brutus. He just might be exactly what you’re looking for. He’s in the last kennel on the right,” she told me. “He’s a pit bull, and he’s been here for a week. No one has come to claim him, so he’ll be available for adoption tomorrow.”
A pit bull. Not wanting to show my trepidation, I agreed and followed her back to the last kennel. What I found there was the most stunning dog I had ever seen. How had someone abandoned this beautiful dog? I thought. We hooked him up to the leash and he pulled us right out the door, bounding towards the grass outside. His huge bully smile struck me immediately, and I leaned in cautiously to give him a scratch behind the ear. Before I knew what was happening, I was being ambushed by a giant tongue, licking my face with reckless abandon. The more I laughed, the more he licked. I finally broke free, and looked up at my daughter. “This is my dog,” I said.
That night, I couldn’t get my mind off of that ridiculously happy face. I went out and bought all the supplies I would need and decided that there was no time to waste, I would pick him up in the morning. I was the first one there, and took Brutus, who we renamed Rocky, out of that prison and into a house full of hugs and a warm bed for him to sleep in. My daughter was thrilled, and I felt a sense of relief that I wouldn’t be alone when I moved.
It wasn’t long after that we realized that Rocky was sick. Very sick. We took him to the emergency vet, and were told that he had late-stage pneumonia, and was literally on his last leg. More than a thousand dollars and countless vet visits later, he pulled through and assumed his position as a permanent member of our family. I took him to the new house and let him relax under a tree while I moved my belongings inside. Admittedly, my caution level was still a little high, based on his breed and his recent illness. My parents were less than thrilled with my decision to bring a pit bull into my home, and I understood their position. I warned my now 6 year old daughter to tread carefully around the dog, and make sure an adult was always within reach if she wanted to pet him. I filled a bowl of food and set it on the ground in front of him. He sighed, and laid his head down in the grass. “OK Buddy,” I said, “you eat it when you’re ready.” I continued on about my business, and stuck my head out thirty minutes later to check on him and bring him some fresh water. To my great dismay, I saw my daughter lying in the grass next to Rocky, her hands in his food bowl. Panicked, I ran outside to scold her and explain to her the danger she had put herself in by disobeying me. As I got closer, it became apparent what was occurring. Her hands were in his food bowl so she could scoop some food out – and feed Rocky by hand as he happily and gently accepted her offer. My fear subsided as I approached them and Rocky peered up at me with a look of utter doggie bliss. While I still reinforced the dangers of approaching a dog, any dog, without an adult present, I collapsed to the ground to join in the hand feeding. This was not the evil pit bull I had read about in the newspaper. This was just a dog, worthy of love, a home, and a family – just the same as any other breed.
As it would turn out, Rocky (later re-named Steve) was responsible for saving the lives of many other shelter dogs. Because of my experience at the animal shelter, and my inability to erase the sad faces from my mind, I became involved in pit bull rescue, and opened my home to the forgotten, the neglected, the overlooked pit bulls that needed temporary foster care and a re-up of love and affection. I have photos of all of the dogs that have passed through my door hanging on the wall, as a reminder of why I do what I do. 5 more adopted rescues later, Steve now has 2 pit bull brothers, 1 pit bull / lab sister, 1 Jack Russell Terrier brother, and 1 Jack Russell Terrier sister. It’s chaos, it’s messy, it’s loud, and it’s expensive. My friends and family call me crazy.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Follow DoggyBytes on Twitter and/or become a fan on Facebook.
Loading ...