My life is a blur of moments. In fact, if you were to ask me to explain in detail the events that occurred yesterday or the day before, I would be unable to. Sure, I can remember certain things, like receiving my first car or experiencing a disastrous hurricane, but even then the pictures I am able to pull forward are just snippets of a few seconds. Nothing less and certainly nothing more.
Yet, I can still remember the day that they brought her home. It’s almost funny that I can remember her little paws bouncing towards me with a wagging tail when I can’t recall any of my birthdays.
I was just 15 years of age when she first arrived in our driveway. My parents, who had been researching the idea of getting another four-legged companion, had just decided to buy one from someone on Craigslist. Of course, being a teenager who still played with the thought of becoming a veterinarian as I sat and watched reruns of Animal Planet’s greatest shows, I loved the idea and welcomed it graciously. That was, until I saw her.
She was small and fragile when I first took in the sight of her and, of course, feisty from the moment her paws hit the hardwood flooring in our home. Her body flashed from one side of the room to the next in a matter of seconds. It was cute. It was funny. It was, to some degree, terrifying. But, alas, after her roundabout of her new home, she fell asleep in the contours of my kneecap. Yet, in the midst of her deep sleep, that would soon turn to deafening snores when she grew older, I wondered what kind of dog she was.
Before they had taken custody of this newfound puppy, my parents, after seeing our neighbors adopting a beautiful boxer, had wanted one of the same breed. The boxer, named Lucy by her owners, was about as loving and joyful as animals came and my parents wanted the same for their children and household. As such, when they saw a puppy that held the same facial characteristics and color pattern as the beloved boxer across the street, of course their need for a dog was instantly put into action.
Yet, after pretenses that what they would receive would be something close to Lucy, our dog, now named Bella, grew to be something completely different. Rather than becoming a taller and lankier breed known to many boxers, Bella was somewhat shorter and stockier. Her lips that would have hung lower on her face if she were another breed, stayed tout to her face. That was when we knew that what we had received was more aligned to the characteristics of an American Pit Bull Terrier.
If I were to say to you that I wasn’t a tad bit afraid, I would be lying. Growing up in a city where dog fighting was a daily occurrence in neighborhoods and where the shows on Animal Planet displayed law enforcement pulling different breeds of dogs from the fighting rings, I held the impression that these types of dogs were only meant to serve as monstrous machines. My young, and somewhat ill-informed, mind was against keeping Bella as I thought it would protect me and my family.
It wasn’t until she started growing, both in age and in her connections with everyone around her, that I fully realized my mistake.
The dog that now lies in my lap was never a bloodthirsty machine bound to attack anything that crossed her path. In fact, if she were to ever attack, it would most likely be with what we call “kisses.” Even though she will protect her home and family if need be, her love for us and those who have had the chance to be around her expands far past the prejudices and discrimination most associated with the breed.
There are still times when we take Bella out for a run or to a baseball game and receive a mixture of disgusted looks and hushed accusations. Some places, even if it is not against my dog solely, ban the pit bull breed from entering their premises entirely.
Yes, many of the dogs associated with dog fighting and attacks against humans have been pit bulls. But, are they truly a danger to society or a product of their breeding? I like to follow the latter explanation. Why? Because I believe any animal, without the proper training and discipline, can be dangerous to the health of others.
In another discipline, this breed is not born with the thought process of instant aggression or with the passion to attack human beings or other dogs, but are trained to do so through owners who put the needs of themselves over their animals. From years of this playing constantly on our television screens and radios, there is no denial in that this breed has been labeled with a horrible reputation.
Yet how can we fight these preconceived notions?
I opened my mind and challenged what was brought before me. In the case of our relationship with each other, just because someone did something terrible does not mean that all human beings are the same way. The same applies to these animals.
It takes courage to fight back against the discrimination against these dogs, but to truly invest your time with them and show them the compassion you would with any other breed will be one of the best decisions you can make.
I know mine came in the form of a small puppy whose eyes called within me a chance for love and understanding.
