I recoiled in horror at the sudden thought of what this poor, wretched dog had endured.
What sort of dissolute soul could do this to a helpless old dog?
After staring at him for what seemed an interminable period, I realized that I had five
more animals for cruelty exams (each with another story), so I had to move on
Driving back to my clinic, I thought how depraved it was to treat animals this
way.......was it sadism, apathy, or stupidity? None seemed in short supply. I kept seeing
the pit-bull's face, a swarthy apotheosis of the downtrodden. There are so many like him,
I felt powerless as I pondered the enormity of the problem.
Animal cruelty is an epidemic that with only the most egregious exceptions escapes the
public's notice. This poor dog had been beaten, starved, mutilated, forced to fight for his
life, and, worst of all, socially isolated.
Dogs are very social animals....more so, even, than humans. How can humans be so
inhumane? How can humane people let such things happen? I resolved to rescue him;
even though it was a scratch on an obdurate surface, a drop in a very large bucket.
I couldn't just leave him there to be euthanized. That's the only way pit-bulls are allowed
to leave the shelter.....dead. I wanted him to experience at least one good day on earth. If
possible, maybe I could even show him what it's like to be loved and wanted.
It would take some string-pulling from the D.A.'s office before I could get him released
from the shelter......after all, he was a pit-bull, the paradigm of canine incorrigibility.
(That is what media mavens would have you believe.) The truth is, pit-bulls are the oldest
registered American breed and have long been favored for their courage, (fanciers call it
"gameness") loyalty, and intelligence.
Unfortunately, their fighting reputation has made them very popular with a lot of
unsavory characters who have ushered in a spate of backyard-bred, people-aggressive
curs. Real pit-bulls are selected to be so people-friendly, they don't even make good
watch dogs. But the newspapers are sold by grinding angsts, not accentuating positives.
Consequently, people who wouldn't know a pit-bull sitting at their feet, still consider
them to be the snarling menace of their worst nightmare. So torturing and killing them
is, I suppose, more acceptable, or at least easier to ignore.
I'm NOT a pit-bull fancier. In fact, I'm more of a cat person, but let us remember, as
"Uncle Mattie" says, "There are no bad breeds, just bad breeding." We transferred the
pit-bull to my clinic and started treating his multitude of problems. I had no idea what
kind of dog he would be personality-wise, with all of the abuse and privation he had
suffered.
His stone face was inscrutable...blank except for a sadness in his sunken eyes. He was
easy to work on so with considerable effort from all concerned, along with lots of treats
and loving attention added to the antibiotics, vitamins, and medicated baths, the
30-pound skeletal specimen was morphed into a solid 75-pound dog.
After a couple of months, a shiny coat hid most of his scars, and the glum look on his
face had been replaced by an infectious grin that, adorned by his chopped-off ears, was
reminiscent of a happy face drawn on a Pompeian ampulla.
Meanwhile, my jaded karma had been ameliorated by his astonishing progress, not to
mention his buoyant, stiff-upper-lip charm. Somehow he had managed to come through
unimaginable hardship, not only clinging to life, and maintaining a positive attitude,
which was to me, an inspiration. We named him, "Pete."
Pete and I started going on daily walks, short at first because he didn't have much
stamina. Soon we were doing three miles or more, and as we ambled our way through
the bosky recesses of Boman Acres, we were getting to know each other pretty well. It
wasn't long before I was feeling better than I had in years!
Dog walking is very good exercise for man as well as dog. Pete loves and is loved by all
of the neighborhood children, and for the most part has even become a gentleman
around cats and other dogs.
Transformed into a doting pet parent, I beam with pride at any compliment directed at
my charge. With a cake and party hat, we celebrated Pete's unofficial birthday in July.
I think it's safe to say that Pete has helped me at least as much as I have him. When
asked what breed he is, I've been known to answer, with a slightly cryptic grin, "He's my
'Healer.'"
So it was that Pete and I came to heal each other and in the process, became bonded in
lifelong friendship. His case was not only a watershed to me, but a source of
encouragement to the cruelty investigating team.
Pete's previous owner is now serving six counts of 5 years each. Judge Turnbull simply
termed the case "unbelievable." I wish that I could agree with that assessment; but,
although the brutality of Pete's former life is now only a distant memory, many other
cases continue to pass through the shelter with oppressive regularity. It is all too
believable for those of us that grapple with the gruesome, and often overwhelming
problem of cruelty to man's best friend.
If ever you find yourself in need of a cure for ennui, or maybe just a dose of reality, I
highly recommend a trip to the city animal shelter, where you will see that taking any
kind of significant bite out of animal cruelty remains a formidable, if not impossible,
undertaking.
Having learned from my friend Pete, I, for one, have no intention of giving up.
From: Hearts United for Animals
