Tag Archives: Greyhound

8/26/13 Guest Blogger, “Mom” – Being A Pitbull Mom

To finish off the third and final installment of my “BSL” and “Dog Fighting” blogs, I have asked my human Mom to be a guest blogger today.  Tomorrow I will go back to my normal blogging activity.  Woof!  Love, Maggie

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Hello!  I’m Maggie’s human Mom.  I want to say that I had never, ever considered getting a Pitbull as a pet.  Never.  I had spent years rescuing Greyhounds, and was familiar with those dogs and their issues.  But.  The Greyhounds have been gone for many years, my son Jamie pretty much outgrew his asthma, and it was time for another dog.

We put our heads together and decided on a shelter dog.  I put down my hard and fast rules:  1. No puppies.  2. Mixed breed dog.  3. Short hair.  4. Male dog.  We went to the shelter and looked at EVERY dog.  Jamie kept going back to kennel #23.  Her name was Maggie, and she was a beautiful white dog, sitting with her front paws crossed very ladylike.  She looked at us with intelligent eyes.  There was another dog there, a Shepherd, who had been a U.S. Marshall’s dog (how it got in the shelter, I have no clue).  Egypt knew all her commands, and was 6 years old.  I was leaning towards Egypt but Jamie said, “Mom, I think 6 years is a little too old.”  Scarred from the short lifespans of Greyhound Rescued Racers, I caved.  So much for my hard and fast rules!

We set up a sniff & meet in the corner room and Maggie came in, head down, tail wagging. She kissed us all over our faces and leaned up against me in a doggie hug.  My goose was cooked.  I still didn’t know she was a Pitbull.  Silly?  I don’t know; maybe, but in my mind all the Pitbulls looked like the Target dog and had pointy faces.  I thought she was a Lab mix.

At the counter, the lady explained that Maggie needed a spay.  I quickly agreed to everything:  Stitches that dissolve. Pain meds.  Antibiotics.  Anything.  As the woman was typing in the information, she said aloud, “Breed:  American Staffordshire Terrier”.  And that is when my brain exploded.  Pitbull?  PITBULL??!!!  THAT DOG CANNOT BE A PITBULL!!!  Stupidly I stammered, “How big is it going to get?”  The next thought in my mind was, “Jamie, pick out another dog!”  Every negative media story I had heard and seen flashed through my mind in a nanosecond.

I must have had a real look on my face because Jamie looked at me with wounded eyes.  “Mom!” he practically whispered.  My mind wheeled back to just a few minutes before, of the skinny white dog with the smiling face, leaning up against me, hugging me as if her life depended on it.  “We’ll take her,” I stated firmly, wondering how I would explain a Pitbull adoption to my husband.

The rest you know from Maggie’s blog.  She’s a real Daddy’s Girl and her human Dad loves her to pieces.

The reason I am saying all of this is because I almost missed out on THE BEST PET of my life because I had a knee-jerk reaction to the word, “Pitbull”.  I hope that through Maggie’s blog, some people will have a second thought about these wonderful, brave dogs, who are abused beyond anything we can even think of and then left on the streets, in Dumpsters, and abandoned houses, to die.

Education is key for humans.  We need to understand that things like dog fighting and BSL are wrong.  There is no “clean” or humane dog fight.  Everybody loses!  BSL just spreads fear and ignorance.  We need to understand that if we abuse a dog and train it to be aggressive, well, it’s going to happen.  But if we treat our dogs with love, patience, routines, and school, we will not have most of these aggression incidents in the first place.

Never, ever in my wildest dreams did I think I would be a Pitbull Mom.  Now that I am, I can’t imagine not being one.

Thank you,

Maggie’s Mom

PS – Egypt was adopted within 3 days! 

6/15/13 Grandma, and the Rainy Day Rocket

Grandma is here for another visit.  Even though I was very happy to see her, I didn’t jump.  Well, to tell the truth, I would have jumped, but Mom was holding my collar.  But soon I calmed down and got a treat for not jumping, so it all worked out for the best.

Dad says Grandma has “dementia”.  That’s a big word for a dog, but I’m pretty sure that’s the reason why Grandma acts like a young pup one minute and an old dog the next.  It makes Dad and Mom very sad to see.  I try to cheer them up.  Mom says Grandma is from “The Greatest Generation”, and I know that has something to do with history from Jamie.  Jamie knows all about “The Greatest Generation” because he loves history, and always has his snout in a book about it.

Speaking of Jamie, I can’t jump on him, either, because he slept on his pillow funny last night and now he is walking around with his head on crooked.  I’m afraid to go near him.  This is one of the reasons I do not sleep on the humans’ beds.  You just never know what’s going to happen up there, and what if you have to make a dash for the front door and get tangled up in blankets and stuffed animals?  I know a Greyhound once who was sleeping on a human bed and fell two feet to the floor when she rolled over.  Nearly broke a leg.  Now Jamie is walking around all slouched to one side.  No, sir, beds are horrible places.  The middle of the kitchen floor is much safer.

Today was cloudy, wet, and rainy, so naturally I was feeling my most energetic and mischievous.  I guess I kind of turn into a rainy day rocket.  First, I sneaked around and chewed every pair of shoes I could find.  Then, when Mom opened the back door to let some cool breeze in, I bolted out the screen door, ripped around the yard a couple of times right through the mud puddle next to the swing set, then a clear shot back into the kitchen, knocking three magnets off the screen door and sending them flying every which way. 

Unfortunately, my paws were wet, and as I came into the kitchen at max velocity “hairy bullet” style, I lost my footing, smacked into a kitchen chair, sending it skidding across the floor, and bumped my head – hard – on the table leg.  Dazed, I shook myself, and drops of water flew everywhere.  Mom felt sorry for me, even though I got her wet, and felt my head all over for lumps, then gave me a treat. 

The middle of the kitchen floor is looking pretty good right about now.  I think it might be time to calm down and take a breather!