A Pit Bull Story

The smaller dog is Marble

Recent news reported a horribly sad story. 

The culprit was a Pit Bull Terrier.  The dog snatched a darling little longhaired dog.  It was on a leash exploring along the sidewalk with his master.  The owner of the beloved pet ended up in the hospital.   His puppy didn’t fare as well.  The dog died.

The Pit Bull had snatched the unsuspecting fluffy victim, holding him in his unrelenting jaws viciously shaking his little body with no mercy.  The owner was seriously injured trying to rescue his pet.   He succeeded  - but too late to save the precious animal.

Listening to the story, I held back tears. 

Marble is a Pit Bull that has lived with me these past nine months.   He is a survivor who ambles about with a limp having overcome injuries when as a puppy he was hit by a car.  Marble is old now and quite a sweet dog.

 We’ve always marveled over how he loves to play with stuffed toys.   Marble’s ‘mother’, my daughter, will spend freely seeking a sturdy toy that will not be quickly torn apart by him.  Just last week she brought from Pet Smart, a blue suede item, expressive face, and floppy hat on golden yellow hair, fat body, long arms and longer legs and several internal noisemakers.  Marble was as happy as any little kid with a new toy.  Several minutes later its bright colored form was broken apart, white cotton-like stuffing spread about on the dining room carpet and Marble languished nearby, satisfied.   He has several of these toys, once perfect, now damaged but picked up and played with at various times, when he is so inclined.  I’ve always liked Marble’s playful spirit.

Now, I’m wondering if the Pit Bull at the beginning of this writing, and all Pit Bulls who abruptly harm small fluffy dogs actually call themselves ‘playing’.   Very sad.

Thinking about it, I’ll never again like what Marble does to his new toy.

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I was once afraid of Marble.  I was many years learning to be in the same room with him.   Now Marble is a good friend.   

You see, several years ago, long before Marble came into my life, a neighbor’s Pit Bull escaped his back yard and bit me.  It was traumatic.  I fell down and broke my wrist.  Yet, I remember the dog had a surprised look in his eyes as he released my arm.  I've thought he didn't mean to do it.

I tell Marble, if he did ‘lose it’ and bite me, the worst thing would be having to tell everyone “Marble bit me”.  I would be ashamed if he betrayed our trusting friendship.