Why I Chose a Pit Bull

I know that there are mean dogs out there.  I've been bitten and scared by plenty.  I know that dogs attack and bite and kill.  I know it, I know it, I know it.  I'm not talking about those dogs- I'm talking about mine and if that bothers you then I suggest you turn away now because I am still full of rage from an encounter last night and I will not tolerate it in my space- which this is.    


On Thursday, I had my wiggle pants on and badly needed to go for a walk.  As usual, the dogs were also very wiggly and so this worked out perfectly.  Marco and I took them on a nice 3 mile walk that we like to do in the evenings, down the bike bath, through a great neighborhood, around the Square and back down the bike path.  It's our thing.  We get time to talk and bond and the dogs enjoy the sights and the scents and the occasional pet from strangers.  We were on our nice, family walk when suddenly it happened- someone said something ugly about my Cerulean and his breed.  This has only happened to my face once before but my reaction was still the same.  Complete and utter rage.

Rage so intense that I screamed out loud and tears poured down my face.  I started to hyperventilate right there in front of the frozen yogurt shop, in front of dozens of people.  I hated that woman- still hate that woman- and it clearly showed.  So let's talk about it shall we?

I've shown off my pretty, pretty dogs a few times- like here and here.  But I have never really explained how and why I chose my Cerulean.  Here is his story.


Cheezburger was a puppy when I got her and by the time she hit two years old, I had broken off an engagement  moved out on my own, was working two full time jobs and swerving really hard into hot mess territory.  My stress was high and it was starting to show.  I had been thinking of getting her a brother, a playmate for when I worked and a companion to help deal with her "only child" syndrome that was so obvious.  I had casually browsed the adoptable pets online, but no one really stuck out.

Then I got a phone call from a library volunteer.  There was a dog at the shelter who was "next on the list."  Could I please come check him out, foster him, and we would try to find him a forever home.  What the heck I figured.  I was looking for a playmate, this would be a great way to introduce the Burg to the idea.

I drove to the shelter, and was directed to the "big dog" room.  I was looking for the dog with the black collar- there was only one.  There were 30 big dogs in the room, jumping and barking and tails a wagging.  I petted a few through the cages but saw no black collars.  It was so loud in there and I walked up and down the aisle a few times before I saw him.  He was huddled in the back corner of his kennel- alone- head and tail invisible, but I could just see his black collar.  I walked over to his kennel and spoke to him.  The saddest face looked up at me but he wouldn't come to the fence.  I opened the door and sat quietly at the entrance.  He stood up.  I could tell his was skinny and sick- probably not fed well in his passed life, probably full of worms or worse.  He came over to me and I let him smell my hand and he let me pet the top of his head.  Then he crawled into my lap and curled up in a little ball, shivering.

If I am being completely honest, I was a goner right then and there.  But now that he was asleep in my lap, I had a better chance to get a look at him.  That's when I realized he was a pitbull- and filthy.  I still wasn't sure if I was ready to take on two dogs, but I thought I'd help him find a forever home, at least for a little while.

Long story short- it took about a year of looking for a forever home to realize he already had one.  He is gentle and patient where Cheezburger is insane.  He is very snuggly and just wants to be petted and allowed on the bed.  His fur is short but soft and he is so delicate when he walks that often his toe nails are ridiculously long and we never notice.  He is afraid of the rain but not thunder.

His favorite toy is the pink rubber ducky, but he doesn't chew it, just likes to keep it around.  He will play with Cheezburger when she asks nicely and only once told her to back off- when he was sick and full of worms and had just had his business removed and she would not leave him alone.  He told her to stop it and she did.  He is incredibly protective of Cheezburger and me but never barks.

Since he came into my life I have taken a real interest in so many things- helping at the Humane society, supporting our local dog park, being involved with making sure breed specific laws are not passed here or in surrounding counties.  I've been asked to bring him to several meetings, groups and social events as an advocate for older dog adoption, pit bull awareness and snuggle times.  I have met so many people- friends- through him.  He can charm the pants off anyone he meets and I can't tell you how many people think of him as their "favorite."  

I've gone on and on, I know it, and I am almost finished.  I love my sweet Pooto, not because I believe that by loving him I am proving a point, but because he is sweet and loving and snuggly.  I love him because he never complains, even when he is full of 4 types of worms and bleeding from a massive skin infection.  I love him because when I don't feel good he will snuggle until I do.  I love him in a sweater.  I love him because he is gentle with children and fast to give kisses.  

And one day, I hope that when we are walking around the Square, he will not be judged by his skin, but by the content of his character. Because that character is exactly why I choose to adopt a pit bull.