We currently have three dogs and three cats, all rescues. In addition to my sweetie, we have a husky/beagle mix (Peeve) a lab/some-sorta-hound mix (Pippa), a shy cat (Itty Bitty), a half-dog cat (Charlie), and The Cat Who Fears Nothing (Ripley). Our old friend, Nikita Bear, our willful lab/malamute, passed away last summer at 14 ½, and Lil Biscuit needed a home, so. . .
Biscuit’s mom, Ivory, appears to be a golden lab/retriever sorta mix, just beautiful. She was chained up in a yard across from where I work. Nearly every day when I left work, I saw a lady loving on her and I assumed that she was the homeowner/owner. Wrong. As I learned, the “owner” (and I mean that in the most sarcastic way possible) and her son were too busy going to visit with her boyfriend and were rarely even home. And they were far too busy to put out water and food daily (grrr!!!) so this kind lady who lived a few doors down took pity on Ivory, fed and watered her daily, and even took her for walks along with her own dog. To this day, I have never, ever seen the “owner” touch “her” dog. Anyway, one day about a year ago, I was drawn across the street because I saw a passel of little black pups squirming out of the (pitifully shabby) doghouse. We started talking, and I started walking with this lady and the dogs, and just loved the playful little pups (ahhh! puppy breath!!!). Ivory was a terrific mother to all seven of them (neighbors said it was about her fifth litter . . .but *sarcasm on* who’s counting? * sarcasm off* )
One by one, the pups disappeared (taken by people at night, mostly, heaven only knows where . . ), until only one little mostly-black pup was left. Because the “owner” was threatened with a ticket if the pup wasn’t chained also, he was also tied up in the tiny, grassless area littered with their trash. Getting the picture?? Grrrrrrrrrrr.
Because our old dog was getting frail (and a bit cranky, God love her), we didn’t think it was the right time to introduce a rambunctious puppy, even though I had already fallen totally in love. I had already been pestering EVERYONE about the pups for weeks, including all the no-kills for miles – no luck. One afternoon when he was about five months old, Biscuit did not eat his treat. And he didn’t eat the next morning, either. Now THAT was a serious sign to me that he was not well at all! So I took off work that very morning and took him directly to the vet and the diagnosis was PARVO! I told the vet to do what they could. Well, not only did he make it, in just a few days he was such an escape artist that every day they had to think of new ways of keeping him confined in his crate in his isolation room! (The “owner” did not even get home for a couple days. Not that they would have even noticed if he was sick, anyway, or bothered to take him to the vet. ggggrrrrrr, again. Ooops, better stop that - I'm sounding people-aggressive
)
The next week, our old girl passed away – and Biscuit came home (without my husband’s knowledge for a month – but that’s another story!). Since he has come into our lives, he is the best of everything pittie: the goofy sense of humor, the rough-and-tumble non-stop play, the rocket-powered energy, the sloppy face washes, the toothy grin, the total cuddle wigglebutt clown bully package. And OMG, the devastatingly sweet soul-melting looks! After looking at many pit-friendly sites on the net, I now know how privileged I am to have this special pup, and a member of a very special group of those lucky enough to know the truth about being adopted by a pit.
I am learning so much – I’ve done some things right and some things not so well (I have really stepped up the obedience training!! Which is so easy because he is SO smart and SO eager to please). I love reading all your posts and seeing your pups – and I think I’m hooked for life . . . yep, a pittie slut. Hopefully, pictures of the "kids" to come (haven’t hooked up the scanner since the LAST crash . . .) Anyway, I am so glad to be able to gush on, especially about my boy – my co-workers are probably sick of hearing me say, “He gets cuter EVERY DAY!!!”
(well. . . . he does!)
That was very kind of you to take in biscuit! People like that have no business owning a dog or any animal for that matter. Where is his mother, if you know?
Glad to see a happy ending with Biscuit! I have a "fears nothing" cat, too. His name is Ares.
