Pit-iful is the-Bull

The stuff is up! Hooray. It takes me forever to pack. I drag it around with me wherever I go during my time away from home, then, when I make it back home, it takes me DAYS to get it all up and straightened again. The husband thinks I’m nutso.

One day I will learn to pack light. But as my dear friend said, “But what if I wake up in a different mood one day and need something?” I laughed so hard when she said this. The word “need” struck me as funny. She’s a funny gal regardless, but this line she used really hit home because that must be why I take a million and one accessories and enough for two to three outfits per day. Girls will be girls. And then we look to our honey and say, “Will you be a dear and grab those bags for me?” We bat our lashes and prance ahead and they’re left with a heap of fashion they need a forklift to haul. This is precisely why I don’t care what he does or when… he has patience with me. He’s a big boy, he can do whatever he wants and it’s fine with me… because the patience that runs so thin with the world at large he thickens up for me and my many ways of quirky, girly rationalization. He probably doesn’t understand it at all. But, why must men and women understand each other so perfectly anyway? We don’t even understand ourselves. All I need to understand is, I got a good man. What I have been a little confused about is how women who are demanding and restricting don’t understand why the men they wish to control want to burst through the binding and run like hell. And how the men that are so demeaning and rigid don’t understand why their lovely women walk out the door. This is the real mystery. Why don’t the controllers get that they can’t make other people do what they want them to do and then expect the people to genuinely be happy about constantly obliging someone else. Unsolved.

Earlier today, before lunch, I walked my two pooches down to the waterfront. We piled onto a bench beside the Albemarle Sound and I lay down to close my eyes and listen to the water lapping and my own breathing. Selma Lu jumped up and curled under my knees so that her head propped between my feet and China jumped onto my tummy, eventually finding that her head fit perfectly in the opening that a missing slat of wood provided. She looked as though she were spying out of a fort. Neither of them was interested in moving so we took the opportunity to rest under the blue sky and listen to the world turn. I wish that were possible, to actually hear the world’s rotation as it went spinning through space. Of course, it would need to be a switch one could turn off and on. It would get maddening, eventually driving us all insane and would also serve as a constant reminder that time keeps on ticking. I feel that aside from appointment making, time is one useless invention. It is the system that creates such panic. Universal fright of the inevitable. If it weren’t for time, would we be scared of death? I wonder…

As I lay there on the bench, under a winter-looking tree, set against a sky blue, adorned by two puffy white clouds, I realized that my intention to notice my body’s harmony (the breathing and all that complicated, over-my-head anatomical, cellular stuff of miracles) was ever intertwined with the two creatures that were touching me. Symbolically, they were twisted and curled on and around my body and I felt so much more at peace with their breath in unison with my own. Slowing down to this pace, I felt their bodies moving up and down with mine, their sighs coming right after mine, their thud of a beating heart mimicking my heart’s rhythm. They are my angels. They are my constant gardeners. If my soul is an ever-growing, flourishing creation, they are the nourishment it needs.

This is not a new feeling of appreciation for them. I feel this contentment every night, every morning, and with every cuddly or silly moment. But, I gave myself the time to be so aware and thankful of it and not rush myself toward something I should be doing instead. I ignored time. I said as I approached the bench, “I have nothing else more important than this to do.” Relaxation allows ease of body and mind. Sounds obvious. But, when is the last time you were still awake and let yourself melt into your breath? Minus sleep and yoga, can you remember the relief from a demanding moment peering at you from the future. A moment to merely be alive, breathing. Not a waste of ‘time’, which is what else aside from a measurement of life? And what else is there to even care about aside from life? And if our interpretation of time wraps us up so tightly that we forget about life, what good is it? Forget time. Embrace life. Breathe.

Listen to that, ha! It sounds like I know something. But, I hope it doesn’t come across that way, knowing and preachy. I’m just thinking aloud, that’s all. Telling what I hear in my head from the electrical sparks that light up my brain.

Now that I’m home, Selma Lu Mela and China Lingua, my prized fur balls, are snoozing on the window seat next to my desk. China’s eyes open periodically to make sure I’m still here. Somehow they always open to see mine staring back. I turned off the television that I can see below from my desk because The Good Son was on and Macaulay Culkin’s character was about to shoot a pit bull and I can’t watch it or I get overwhelmed with emotion. The fact that it is a movie or fiction matters not. I cannot watch. Yesterday, as I did laundry, I watched The Compass, a very good movie with Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig and a very interesting looking young girl. It is partially animated. And there I was, in tears, when the mean and corrupt Polar Bear King was fighting the good-hearted, exiled, Ex-King Polar Bear. The thought of him fighting and maybe losing with his hurt front paw, but still summoning the courage… too much to bear. (no pun intended.)

I left the coffee shop downtown this morning and stopped to look at all the cute dogs that are stuck at the tri-county animal shelter. All of these Selmas and Chinas sitting behind bars waiting to be put to death because their owners couldn’t take responsibility for caring enough. Their eyes show pain, fright, shame. I stare at the poster thinking of who to call or how I could possibly take in more. I want a ranch so badly. I want land to give to all these abused and neglected creatures. Food is so easy to come by. Love is so stinkin’ easy to come by. I just need land to share with them. I dream about that a lot- hiring someone to help manage and care for the land and animals. Training some of the most tolerant dogs to visit hospitals and elderly centers (petting an animal is proven to lower blood pressure and aid in curing stress induced diseases) and even prisons. Even prisoners, yes. I’ve seen correctional facilities adopt programs where the prisoners are in charge of rehabilitating a shelter dog. It’s genius really. The prisoners are saving a life. They bond, they give, they nurture and are sensitive to the needs of a creature they are responsible for and that depends on them. The bond and attachment grows and they help to save the dog and get the dog ready to become adoptable. The rate of rehabilitation for both dog and prisoner, 100 percent. These hardened men sob like babies when they part from their dog and confess that they are sad, but ultimately so happy to have given a second chance to their friend. Kindly, all the new owners agree to keep in touch with these inmates and some even invite the men over to visit the dogs when they are released from their sentences. Now, absorb that story, and one feels they just swallowed blessed air. God is in that story. Give and you get. Release and receive. Just like breathing.

One of my girlfriends, the one that owns the boutique, met my dogs recently and I said to her, “I was working here the other evening and Nick walked the dogs to the window to see me and I looked at them puzzled as to how both could be considered the same species. Dog. Both are so utterly different.” She said, “Yeh, I know.” She paused and continued, “That’s your next blog!” Voila. This one goes out to all the canines.

For girly, dainty China (she stand like a ballerina in second position always), who has had a very sweet life and has never known an ugly moment, who can’t be petted without trying to lick you right back, and who is a nurse by nature. To the one who licks my tears when I cry and puts her head on my head. The purest little source of love I know. A little black Bichon/Yorkshire terrier mix with a white butterfly on her chest and a sliver of pink tongue peaking out from her furry lips. Nick and I got her in Athens, GA and when I saw her I was reminded of my first dog ever, Candy. It was also my first word ever. As a baby, I learned to talk early and it must have been because I wanted to call out to her so badly. “Candy!” China looked like Candy, Candy looked like my grandma’s Cherie. A line of Dunaway women with a small black beloved lap dog. And China had a teacher that was a master of the art of life, Shakti. Shakti will get another entry of her own, to come later. But, everyday, China is a little wiser and it shows.

For goofy Selma, who is more interesting that most any other creature I have ever met. The one who incurred risk, made a break for it from “monsters who tried to burn her tail off and also starved her before she could see” and beat death twice. To the dog that makes no mistakes and tries so hard to be good at everything. She runs as hard as a horse in the field and cries and shakes until her teeth chatter in my lap at the vet. Playful, hugging, scared-of-everything Lu Bear. She plays my heart like a fiddle and I can’t imagine if Nick had not greeted me at Blowing Rock ferry station with a cardboard box of mini Selma, possessor of giant heart and eager eyes. A dog’s vision is not complete until they are past four weeks old and we had Selma for almost two weeks, blind as a bat. “Come here little Selma.” And she, the size of a tiny rodent, would clumsily run and sit in the nearest large shadow that she thought was calling out to her. It would always be the rocking chair or a floor lamp. Until I called again and she followed the trail, eventually landing in my hands. She would battle a bottle cap and take giant leaps to the earth from a stepping stone, to run and pull her body up with all her might onto the next stepping stone. She never pee peed in her pen, even then. She woke us up every two to three hours with this quivery whimper and we would walk her outside, set her down, she would pee pee and then go back to bed spooning her stuffed reindeer that looked ten times her size and was still a small dog toy. Now, when she leaps into her harness (her favorite possession) and we go out for a walk I see people look at her. Some are doing so with an admiring glance, some are thinking about how they’d like to take her and make her an ugly, fighting reflection of themselves, and some decide to walk away and leave me alone. She is a guardian. There is nothing mean about her, but she doesn’t trust strangers and ya know what? I don’t mind that one bit. If she, leashed, barks at a strange man walking past me, I do not scold her. I don’t want her to blindly trust men against her better judgment. If her intuition says “alert” I say “Very good, Selma Lu. Thank you.” She does the same thing to tell me a snake is under the grill. Why would I question her logic and motivation for alarming me? I trust her entirely. And I have noticed people drive past me, turn and drive back by, and study us, deciding to move along eventually. I credit Selma for prompting their decision. Once, a nice man asked if he could take my trash bag to the dumpster since he was headed there anyway with a pile of trash in his truck. Selma stood quietly, until he reached to open his white truck door and lean as if he were going to get out toward us. She sharply barked at him and took a defensive stance. He smiled, I smiled, and he said “Why don’t you just throw it in the back of the truck.” That a girl, Selma Lu. He was nice and she knew that, as she silently let me talk to him. The second he moved toward me, “Arr ruff!” What a gem. A tan mystery that I say is a Rhodesian Ridgeback/American Pit Bull Terrier mix.

The Pit Bull, officially American Pit Bull Terrier is a victim of man’s meanest. And of course, when false knowledge spreads like wildfire, where is the source of the spur? The media, owners of the “truth” aka “the version of the truth that lands ratings for their broadcasting network.” Some people are going out of their way to publicize their love of pit bulls, to attempt to save a breed that is being destroyed. Let’s all applaud their noble efforts!

Let us keep in mind a couple of things. One, this breed depends on us to wisen up and treat it fairly and sweetly, with respect. Man domesticated dogs, using them for our benefit, but taking care of them in return; we can not abandon them now that we have created their dependency on us. And if we continue to abandon them, we can not stand bewildered when they turn wild and form packs of more aggressive dogs. One or the other. And two, when a man threatens another or tries to intrude, breaking into the other's home within a strange set of events, what does a man do? He attacks, he defends, he is physically aggressive. Do we really blame dogs for having this exact same basic and most often justified instinct? Pitbulls are not the enemy, they aren't full of hate and rage. They are victims, and full of hurt and fright. Pity-full is the pitbull. Let's save them before it is too late. Let's quit punishing the wrong creature for dog fighting.

Let's quit banning dogs and start banning nightmarish behaviors toward them with a more serious charge.

Here are some FACTS I find interesting concerning this best friend of mankind in general and specifically the APBT:

- Although now a controversial breed, the Pitbull dog was once America's favorite dog.

- World War I artwork depicted Pits representing the United States.

- Sergeant Stubby, a Pitbull, was a World War II hero that saved several soldiers and captured a German spy.

- Helen Keller, Theodore Roosevelt and Thomas Edison were proud Pitbull owners.

-The Little Rascals had Pete.

-Laura Ingalls, author of The Little House on The Prairie book series, had Jack.

-RCA and Buster Brown Shoes both chose Pits for their mascots.

-A Pitbull dog named Bud was the first dog to travel across America in a car. His goggles can be found in the Smithsonian Institute.

- The actual number of Pitbull bites make up a very small percentage of the nearly five million dog bites reported in America each year. The media is quick to credit any dog bite to this breed. In one case of this kind of misrepresentation, the true culprit was an Akita, a dog which in no way resembles a Pitbull.

- They always fall as one of the top five most stable dogs. They are extremely patient and tolerant of children.

- In tests conducted by The American Canine Temperament Testing Association, Pitbulls have the fourth highest ranking of all breeds for passing the tests, with 95% of Pitbulls passing compared to 77% for all breeds on average. ( They ranked better than beagles and golden retrievers… I’m sure many people fall out of their chairs over this tid bit!)

- Pits are highly intelligent, eager to please, physically strong and tenacious animals, they make great service dogs. Pitbull dogs are often used in search and rescue operations, and by law enforcement for bomb and drug detection.

- The first certified hearing dog in Alaska was also a Pitbull.

- Many people do not understand that pit bulls are not a true breed of dog. In fact, many pit bull breeds fall under the blanket "pit bull" category. These include: Alano Espanol, American Pit Bull Terrier, American Staffordshire Terrier, Cane Corso, Cordoba Fighting Dog, Dogue de Bordeaux, Japanese Tosa, Perro de Presa Canario, Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Most people can’t identify the true APBT in a line up.

- In tests done by the American Temperament Test Society, Pitbulls were generally LESS aggressive when faced with confrontational situations that produced negative reactions out of many other stereotypically “friendly” dog breeds, such as beagles and poodles.

- Early in the 20^th century, pit bulls were actually the No. 1 family dog.

- It is generally not a good idea to get a Pitbull as your first ever dog to bring home.

- Pitbulls are not responsible for the most dog bites, they are just reported more or mis-reported. A Labrador retriever has more reported bite incidents than a Pitbull. In fact, the first face transplant was due to a Labrador bite. (And we all still love Labs…)

- Though Pit Bulls are athletic and love to get out and play, if they had their way, they would be sleeping on the couch 24/7. They are short-coated dogs and do not do well outside in the cold weather or very hot weather. (So very Selma Lu!) They don't shed too much and are easily groomed, thus making them the ultimate indoor dog.

- Pitbulls are extremely easy to train.

- They are categorized as “cry babies.”

- Pitbulls love being around other dogs and cats. (Selma Lu’s first boyfriend was a cat… Gatsby, whom she remains loyal to…)

Here are some MYTHS:

(I was astonished by this first one! You aren’t going to believe it either! Who could be in their right mind and believe this?)

- Myth 1: These dogs do not feel pain. (Really!?!?)

This is untrue. (Duh! Sounds like some people want to have an excuse handy for how guilty they feel when they fight and kill these puppies!) A pit bull's nervous system is the same as that of any other dog. However, because pit bulls are stubborn animals, they often will continue whatever task is at hand despite pain or discomfort.

- Myth 2: The most popular pit bull myth is that these types of dogs have "locking jaws," meaning that their jaws cannot be pried apart once they bite down. In some cases, this myth even goes so far as to say that a pit bull's jaw cannot even be pulled apart if the dog is killed.

In truth, a pit bull's jaw structure is no different from the jaw structure of any other dog breed. No such locking mechanism exists. (They don’t even have the most forceful jaw in the canine kingdom!) In fact if you take the x-ray of a Chihuahua and compare it to that of a Pit Bull, you will see that they are both the same except for the size difference.

- Myth 3: Pitbulls snap and attack with no reason.

This is untrue. Like any other dog, they are not aggressive without provocation. If the dog acts aggressive it is usually the result of disease, improper handling, misreading the dog’s behavior, or lack of socialization. Most dogs of any breed exhibit warning signs like a quick movement, growl or will show their teeth; they don’t snap suddenly. (Use your people skills, such as reasoning, and take a hint and give them their space.)

GENERAL FUN FACTS about doggies:

- Anthropologist Brian Hare of the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology in Germany has reported that domesticated dogs are better at reading human communication signals, such as glances or pointing, than chimpanzees, which have long been thought to be closer to humans than any other primate.

- “Humans and dogs have the same gene set,” says Kerstin Lindblad-Toh of Harvard’s Broad Institute and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, who led the dog genome project. “In fact, every gene in the dog genome is the same as it is in the human genome, with similar function.”

- Dogs and humans are 82% genetically the same. (Genome-wide variation from one human being to another can be up to 0.5% (99.5% similarity)

(… and Chimpanzees are 96%- 98% similar to humans, which explains why they are resentful;

cats have 90% of homologous genes with humans, which is a compliment to man I think b/c they are extraordinarily beautiful, resourceful and independent;

80% with cows, which is why we should consider not eating all of them!;

and 67% with mice, which is why we feel so freaked out by them.)

- In Roman times and the Middle Ages, mastiffs wearing light armor, carrying spikes and pots of flaming sulphur and resin ran into battle against mounted knights. (Jerks!)

- In World War II the Russians trained dogs to run suicide missions between the tracks of German tanks with mines strapped on their backs. (Cowardly jerks!!)

- The oldest reliable age recorded for a dog is 29 years, 5 months for a Queensland 'heeler' called Bluey in Victoria, Australia. The average dog lives to around 15 years of age.

- One in every three US families owns one or more dogs. (YAY!! Americans love doggies and show it!)

- Dogs become loyal not because you feed them, but because of the companionship you give them.

- Staring directly into the eyes of a strange dog may be interpreted as a challenge and may actually encourage the dog to bite you.

(I’ve witnessed this believe it or not. A guy came up and stood still staring at my dogs as if he were in a mental showdown with them and then became angry because they barked wildly at him. I seriously had to tell him to “move along please!" Then he said, “I will not be inferior to a dog.” It was crazy, like he left his house with this as a mission, and didn’t realize that he was being inferior to a dog because he was acting dumber than a dog. I told him afterward that I believe “dogs are beneficial to their owners for people exactly like you.” He was so odd, dressed in all black, with a rat tail hair do, and blocking my path to have a stare down with my three year old dog? Creepy. And dogs get the negative attention… from people like this bozo!

- Dogs and cats turn in circles before lying down because in the wild this instinctive action turns long grass into a bed.

- Puppies should remain with their mother until they are at least eight weeks old. During this time, she will teach them not to bite, and how to get along with other dogs.

- Mixed-breed dogs usually have behavioral traits similar to the breed they most resemble in appearance.

- Family dogs who growl when family members are roughhousing aren't upset, they're just asking to become part of the game.

Resources

Midwest Rescue of Illinois (n.d.). Myths vs. Facts – The Truth About Pit Bulls. Retrieved January 22, 2008, from the Midwest Rescue Web site: http://www.midwestrescueabull.org/myths.html.

Real Pit Bull (2004). Myths. Retrieved January 22, 2008, from the Real Pit Bull Web site: http://www.realpitbull.com/myths.html.

http://dogs.lovetoknow.com/wiki/Pitbull_Dog

http://www.savehomelesspets.org/myth.html

http://www.eupedia.com/forum/showthread.php?t=25335