Come get to know my dog
Look to the right of this post. There should be a list of the books I’m reading now. Under that, a list of my all-time favorites. Then there's my archives, then a list of recent posts and then, at the very bottom, a search engine. If you type in the word “dog,” you’re going to access around a million posts about my Mojo. You can get to know him a bit. You’ll read about how we’ve been training him, and how he’s grown, and the silly things he does, and the silly things Christopher and I do for him, etc. You can read more about him on Christopher's blog (as well as see photos, which I am not tech-saavy enough to post). I can add more stories to those, like how he was the valedictorian of his puppy training class. Like how Christopher just taught him to roll over, and now, whenever he wants something, he runs up to us, hits the ground and rolls over. I can tell you about how, right now, as I type this, he’s asleep with his head in my lap and is whimpering, his little legs twitching like he’s running. How all the Mexican kids who live next door yell Mo-yo! Mo-yo! Whenever they see him, and rush over to pet him, and he sits down and is very patient as they touch him. They always ask, “Does he bite?” “No,” we say, “He does not. “Can I pet him?” they ask. “Yes,” we say, “One at a time, please.” These are good kids, with good parents who have taught them very well. They know some dogs DO bite. Some dogs are bad dogs, with bad owners who have taught them nothing.
I bring this up because a Chicago alderman is proposing legislation to ban pit bulls (and all pit-mixes, like Mojo) from Chicago. Maybe a year ago, I’d have thought ‘No way. It’ll never happen.’ But it did, not too long ago, in Denver: owners must either turn over their dog to the city, move, or face fines and/or prison time.
I understand there are some dangerous animals out there. I was attacked by a dog when I was five, a little kid like the ones who live next door to me now. I was at our neighbor’s house for an hour while my mom got her haircut. Our neighbor had a son about my age, and he and I were dancing to a Sesame Street record. I remember that very clearly: he had one of those plastic Fischer Price record players, and I wanted one. The next part I don’t remember, but have been told so many times I can see it: apparently, I was too close to the son. Or maybe we were bouncing into each other or something, and their family dog got upset and jumped me, his lower teeth catching my ear and his upper teeth sinking into the back of my head. The next thing I remember is the hair studio where my mom was. It was in some lady’s house, and my mom was under the dryer when our neighbor brought me in. I remember the look on my mom’s face. Absolute horror. Panic. I don’t think I cried until I saw her face.
If you were to shave my head, you’d see the scar. It’s not huge or disgusting or anything, but it’s there. I was the fourth kid that dog had bit, and after me, our neighbors put it down.
The dog, my friends, was a Daschund.
A weenie dog.
Imagine the reaction if I were to say, “Ban all weenie dogs!”
Jesus Almighty, people! It’s the DOG, not the breed! It’s how the dog was raised, trained, loved, etc. and believe you me, a great deal of time and love (and money, thanks very much, dog training is not cheap, and nor should it be. It’s a responsibility, like educating your child, and I fork over that cash happily) has gone into my Mojo. I waited until I was in the right place—financially, emotionally, time-wise—to take care of this animal before I adopted him. I waited until I had Christopher, so there’d be two instead of one. He’s been socialized since he was ten weeks old (Debbie, our dog trainer, gave us a check list. SOCIALIZE YOUR DOG WITH A. other dogs B. cats C. babies D. small children E. medium sized children F. big children G. adults H. old people I. People of different colors J. cars K. bikes L. lawn mowers etc. etc.) and we’re still working on it. We’ll always be working on it, because we care about our dog.
“But not every pit bull owner is like you,” they’ll say. True, and to that I say, So go after them! Go after the people who mistreat their dogs, who abuse them and train them to fight! Go after the people, the owners, the specific dogs—not the breed!
Here’s the petition against the proposed ban. If you’ve got the time/inclination to sign it, Mojo and I would sure appreciate it.
Also, you can find more information about pit breeds (not as emotionally fueled as me ranting on my blog) here.