Yes, I love pit bulls. Who can blame me? They're sweet lovable sobs who will mold themselves into whatever you want them to be. Sadly, that's also their downfall.
Two years ago I got my first pit bull, an American Staffordshire Terrier, Tank. He's the goober in the pic laying in my daughters baby gym.
Before I got Tank, I knew many pit bulls were abused and mistreated, but never on the scale I later found out. I also was one of those misinformed people who believed they were dangerous dogs you'd be crazy to own.
Fast forward some years, and this skinny stray puppy comes up to my front door. The skinny puppy to the left is Tank the day I met him. A weird thing happened that day. At the time I believed these dogs to be dangerous and unpredictable. But when I saw this skinny scared pit bull, all of those unfounded fears went away. I just wanted to help and protect this dog so he never felt scared, hungry, and helpless again.
It wasn't easy getting Tank to trust me. After I took his picture he went and ran under the house and stayed. So I go inside and get some dog food, put it on a plate, and take it out there. No amount of coaxing was going to get him out, so I left the food close to the house and went inside. 30 minutes later, I get a chuckle when I see the plate is licked clean.
Later that afternoon I'm determined to try to get this dog to let me see him and make sure he's ok, and doesn't need to go to the vet. Armed with bacon I go outside, and low and behold he comes out with just a "come here,boy." That's when I first saw him well, and it wasn't good. He had so many scars and cuts on his legs, head, and elbows. He obviously had a hard life for just a baby of 7 months. But, aside from that, he was ok.
All of my years of thinking they were dangerous dogs and without a thought I reached out to pet him, and tell him from now on you'll be ok. I decided then and there I would keep this dog if I was unable to locate his owners.
My next problem was he was scared to come in the house. So for two weeks I was patient and stayed outside with him most of the day, even late at night. Everyday I'd open the door and say "come on, Tank." And nothing. He'd just stare and look like he'd love to be in there. He was just too scared to make the decision, so one afternoon, I made it for him. I picked him up and carried him in the house, and put him on my bed. He instantly was at ease.
A month later I gave up the owner search after no calls, and 2 years later he's one of the biggest joys in my life. What a dog!!!
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