Saturday, October 1, 2011

Stereotypes....and other stuff on my mind

I worked at a Humane Society throughout High School. My experience there was that Pit Bulls, though rarely adopted never were really an unknown threat. By an unknown threat, I mean that they definitely warned you when they were angry or aggressive, same with Rottis, Dobermans, and other so-called aggressive breeds. In fact, a Rotti mix, who I knew for a short period of time, saved me from a dangerous predicament one day. Thankfully that girl got adopted and went to protect the children in her family. Not the same with all breeds. So in high school my mind was made up, I would never own a chow, or terrier, or small dog in general and all I really wanted was a Bernese Mountain dog (this was post shar-pei phase). I first ended up with a hound dog, who I loved dearly and lost too soon, which segwayed into me getting two small dogs who really needed me. I was initially dead-set on no small dogs, I was a big dog girl. But those two dogs, loved me unconditionally and were the best dogs ever. I eventually got my big dog, Dudley, from a shelter, again, another wonderful dog. This is where things start to go awry. After losing my precious little dogs Sam and a year later, Deli, I knew Dudley needed a new friend.....enter Phoebe a Jack Russel/Rat Terrier. Some days I still wonder "what the heck was I thinking??? I hate this breed!" But I love her, she is a comedian and a lover. And she was brought to my attention at a moment of weakness, you could say she was a rebound dog when one isn't thinking clearly. Alright now I own one of my "never own breeds." Now enter Tess. Sigh. She is obviously chow. No doubt in my mind, which makes me concerned about her fearfulness leading to fear biting, which I have yet to see. But I am hesitant with her being cornered by small children. What happened to my dreams of a Bernese Mountain dog? After working with them (and their ridiculous price!) I realize that they are neurotic, high strung, and not exactly what I am looking for. I prefer a specific breed....called rescues.



Now the stereotypes....for some reason (thanks to Vick) Pit Bulls have gotten a horrible rap sheet. But read the book about the rehab of his pits, a high percentage of them have gotten Canine Good Citizenship Awards, which is much better than a Red Cross Mascot. They are in loving homes across the country. People see these dogs as vicious fighters, and yes, they are born to fight, but when raised right, they are nothing but lovable babies. As a dog owner, everyone has to realize what their breed of dog was bred to do. Phoebe will kill a rabbit in 0.2 secs, she is a terrier. Whereas Dudley will retrieve it to me, where the biggest trauma the rabbit will receive is the drop from his mouth. I understand this. True Pit Owners, know their dogs ability and strength. I am also aware of Tess's flightiness. I always will be.



My recent months working in the ER I have come across how stupid people are about Pit Bulls. We have sooo many that come in that have been beaten or hurt somehow because they were supposedly being aggressive, but these dogs always seem to be wagging their tail and ready to forgive and get some loven, regardless of how much pain they are in. I have seen many other breeds of dogs that are horrible at the littlest amount of restraint. Huh, makes you wonder. Stupid people and misunderstood dogs, horrible combination.



Now that I step down from that soapbox, I come to many other thoughts in my life. One is that there is an end in sight where I can happily resume my SSB. Though I still have yet to see any rent. Different battle for a different day.



Today the strangest thing happened. After a night of random dreams involving fully catered baby showers in a mall parking lot, where I forgot to do anything besides hire the cater, I woke up to pet-sit. Now the first cat I am pet-sitting hates me. Not ignores me but HATES ME. Funny when I took mom there the first day of pet-sitting when I was warned he was a little grumpy, mom swooped him up and he immediately loved on her and purred. ???? Not to me, he continually cusses me out and attacks me when I move. Good thing he only has three legs to attack me with. But I feed him and love on him anyways (in between hisses). I get home and look in the mirror and notice I am wearing a Bridges BBQ shirt. A shirt I purchased on a trip to see my Great Aunt. As I looked in the mirror, I thought about Ernestine, about her giggle and the way she could zip around with her wheelie walker (and her wonderful Arkansas cookin). I wondered if I would ever see her again since she was put in Hospice a few months ago and I knew I had no vacation on the horizon. Later this afternoon I got a call from dad saying he had bad news, and I knew immediately that she had passed. Coincidence? I will never know. But I will miss her as I know everyone will and my prayers go out to them and my grandma.