We fly in to Denver and every time I look out the window onto the city, I think about the dogs and families affected by the pit bull ban in Denver.

From July 31, 1989 through April 21, 2004 and re-enacted since May 9, 2005: It is unlawful for any person to own, possess, keep, exercise control over, maintain, harbor, transport, or sell within the city any pit bull.

This ordinance also bans shelters and humane societies from harboring pit bulls, and forbids any U.S. resident from transporting a pit bull through Denver without a permit.

There are exceptions for dogs registered prior to 1990 but given its 2010, there aren’t any exceptions. 

When the ban in Denver was re-enacted in 2005, the city mailed letters to residents with registered pit bulls notifiying them they had 30 days to remove their dogs from the city. Some of the people moved outside the city limits. Some of the people re-homed their dogs outside the city. But hundreds of people had to surrender their dogs to animal control–good citizens that registered their beloved family pets. On July 29th, 2005, the Associated Press reported:  Since May, 380 dogs have been impounded and at least 260 destroyed.

Since the 2005 ban, I read several Denver blogs and in 2006, the following image was posted in the Westword Blog as an anonymous photo from the city’s animal shelter. A pile of dead pit bulls. This image travels with me everywhere I go. And when I go to Denver, I carry it with a heavy, angry heart.

So one of the things I do when I’m in Colorado, and outside the Denver city limits, is visit the Summit County Animal Shelter in Frisco.

There’s typically only one pit bull for every dozen dogs at the shelter. I took this photo of Bella last week. She’s listed as a pit bull-lab mix even though she doesn’t look like she has a lick a lab in her. But it’s no matter: She’s a beautiful girl that warmed my heart.

I imagine she’s adopted by someone who falls in love with the breed, becomes a fantastic advocate, and joins the growing number of Colorado residents that will overturn the pit bull ban in Denver for good.

A stretch, yes. But if we expect good things–from people, from dogs–seems like more good things will happen.

On July 24th, police released two surveillance videos, each showing a man skulking around a dark alley in an unknown location with a brindle pit bull at his side. Given my radar for pit bulls in the neighborhood, I watched the videos dozens of times to see if I could identify the guy.

Within hours of the video postings, a Metro bus driver near Magnuson Park spotted the suspect walking with his brown-and-white pit bull, Endo, and called police. They swarmed the area, and Kalebu was arrested.

Here’s a photograph Greg Gilbert shot of Endo to include in a Seattle Times article about what would happen to him.

I remain haunted by what happened to these two lovely women that I never met but that lived blocks from my home. And this week, almost a year to the day, I received an update on Endo. He’s now a beloved family pet. I don’t know how he wasn’t also the victim of violence, how he wasn’t damaged. But I find some peace knowing he’s safe and sound.

La Tigre is also on my mind with the first days of summer in the 90s. During a drive-by last week, on first glance, we didn’t see her. As soon as I got excited about the chance she may no longer be chained up, she startled us when she jumped on top of a car to alarm bark our passing by. Looks like she’s chained to the inside of the carport right now.

There are also three new pit bulls in South Park. A used tire store opened about two months ago, and they’re relying on three pit bulls to guard the tires when they’re not open for business. Two males and a female. All in tact. There are now 3 dog houses, and they keep water and food bowls visible so folks like me don’t keep calling Animal Control. I’m thinking:  What if during a midnight mission I stacked all the tires on the outside of the fence and left the dogs inside with a giant sign that reads, “Pit bulls are not guard dogs.”  But maybe the dogs are enough for thieves to shuffle down to the other two used tire shops a block down the street.

There’s one more pit bull on my mind:  Tiny Gus-Gus. We agreed it’s time to foster another pit bull puppy so when I dropped by the shelter two weeks ago, I brought this little guy home with me.

He was found as a stray, only 4 weeks old, brought to the shelter by a woman who happened to cross his path. I really hope Tiny will grow up to be all the wonderful things pit bulls can be but I’m also realistic this is a less than ideal start. He should be with his litter. For now, we’re doing the best we can to give him the guidance on how to be a good dog. Here he is with Gigi. My grandmother, Ruby, was crazy about poodles. I’m crazy about pit bulls. And I wonder what Gigi’s breed of choice will be.

Some how I talked Miguel into bringing one of them home. She was tagged as Number 9 when I checked her out and as we drove her back to our South Park neighborhood, we agreed we should name her after a place.

And what better place to name her after than our local watering hole, Loretta’s. I snapped this photo of our foster puppy as we walked through their front door. Even though it’s No Dogs Allowed, we knew Amy would let us grab a drink and a burger out back by the Airstream and ping pong table. 

And if you look into the background of this photo, you’ll notice I captured another element of South Park. A local prostitute who frequents the sidewalk in front of Loretta’s.

I’d led a few Foster Orientation sessions at the Shelter but I was still rusty–Chaney was our last foster so it’d been about 4 years. I’d rolled up the rugs, had the crate ready, kong balls stuffed, and our resident dogs were safely put away. But I forgot the Nature’s Miracle.

Loretta was home the moment she arrived. Tail wagging-puppy pouncing, chasing bumble bees, eating shoestrings, digging holes.

We took introductions slowly with our two dogs. After a few days of crate-and-rotate, we donned them the Three Amigos. Here’s Loretta with Buffalo and Chaney.

Loretta was only with us a couple of weeks before being adopted–and yes, Miguel wanted to keep her.

It was back-to-the-basics goodness for me.

A reminder that the heart of rescue is sharing your home with an animal in need. A warm bed, a gentle hand, an easy time. It’s where many of us begin, where some of us get lost, and where so many animals need us to be.

Lorretta is now a year old and has turned into a beautiful pit bull with a fantastic, responsible owner. Here she is on the sidelines at a soccer game cheering on her favorite human.

Each manila file folder is labelled with a dog’s name and the date Anne first became aware of the dog. Sometimes the labels include the dog’s new adopted name, a euthanasia date, or an adoption date.

The files start in 1998 and some years, 2002 and 2003, have two boxes of files.

Anne’s record keeping was meticulous in the beginning. For every dog, I know where the dog came from, have a detailed description, and there’s almost always a photo in the file. I knew Anne worked with hundreds & hundreds of pit bulls but going through these files made her work very real to me on a different level. Her chicken scratch intake notes, her follow-up notes on dates and times she called vets, foster parents, prospective adopters.

Going through the files, I came across dogs that I knew their stories start-to-finish. And there are also dogs like Daisy that I only remembered had been adopted by a wonderful family. I learned Daisy fell off a cliff and died hiking in the mountains by reading her file.

Anne’s files in 2008 tell the story of a woman struggling to do rescue. Her notes are spotty, dog photos are few, vet bills are unpaid, and there are labels with ”outcome unknown.”

In addition to the files, there were three, black garbage bags neatly wrapping poster board displays Anne and her volunteers had created over the years. I unfolded each one and photographed them.

Their purpose was to educate and inspire. Anne used these boards at fundraising events, at public outreach booths, at Ideal Pet Stop.

The tri-fold boards had dog fur stuck to the edges and smelled like Anne. Cigarettes and perfume.  There was a poster board for the 2005 Pit Bull Project calendar photographed by Bev Sparks.

There was also a poster board for the 2007 calendar which also includes beautiful photography and a few dogs I recognize. 

And finally, one of the last poster boards in the set was of Anne’s house. Photos of her son and daughter and the dogs that were a part of their lives.

So many details. Anne’s cursive handwriting. Jots of this-n-that. Names and addresses of people who adopted dogs. Photo-after-photo of pit bulls, pit bull mixes, mutts with brindle coats. Vet bill-after-vet bill. Yahoo emails. PetFinder listings. Copies of Canine Good Citizen certificates. Business cards. Newspaper clippings. Magazine articles. And thank you letters for miles.

Here’s an excerpt from the parents of Sammy Snuggles written in 2001: Dear Anne, how can we thank you for the newest member of our family? Mr. Sammy Snuggles charged into our lives and showered us with kisses and goofiness. He talked us into buying a house with a yard so while we’re not as close by as we used to be, we thank you every day for saving this dog that our lives would simply not be complete without.

My mind kicked in to remember: When was the last time I saw her, when was the last time I spoke to her on the phone, when was the last time we exchanged emails. It’d been 3 years since I’d seen Anne in person. It’d been 2 years since I’d spoken to her on the phone. And it’d been 6 months since we exchanged emails.

In our last email exchange, I’d reached out to tell her Louie was put to sleep for behavior issues and wasn’t sure how welcoming Anne would be. This was one of a handful of times we interacted since our falling out when I left Pit Bull Project in 2004. She was very warm and saddened to hear the news. We exchanged baby pictures. I sent her a photo of Gigi with Buffalo and Chaney, and she sent me a photo of her grandson with Merlin. To my surprise, she asked me to come visit her. I never did.

And two months later, she included me on a mass email asking for help to keep Pit Bull Project operating. I knew the Web site hosting was always on the verge of being shut-off because I continued to receive the warning notices for some reason. I also knew that Anne’s health was not good. I didn’t respond to her email.

Anne’s memorial service was the following Saturday, July 25th, in Columbia City.  While I didn’t recognize most of the people at the ceremony, I did recognize Chris and Kip. They recalled meeting me the first time they visited Ideal Pet Stop. Here they are in the 2006 Pit Bull Project calendar. They are one of hundreds of families Anne touched through her rescue work.

Gaye Davies, one of Anne’s closest friends, was on the original Pit Bull Project board, and I hadn’t seen her in years. There were many tears when she arrived with Merlin, Anne’s go-everywhere dog.

Turns out Gaye was storing a truckload of boxes of Anne’s dog rescue stuff, stuff Anne’s family didn’t know what to do with. Gaye asked me to take it, and I agreed. Seemed right for Pit Bull Project to come back to me so two weeks later I went to Gaye’s house for pick-up.

Gaye and I went through the boxes. From thank-you cards to dog collars to Pit Bull Project t-shirts to dog tags with Anne’s name and address, I felt blessed to go through her things. I packed my Outback full and drove off blowing kisses to Gaye.

Driving home with Pit Bull Project: Another beautiful summer day, the sunroof open, the smell of Anne (cigarette smoke, perfume, dogs) swarming all around me, and Fleetwood Mac. Hold me.

I’m holding on to you, Anne. You’re just around the corner. Lovin on all those pit bulls you’ve embraced and kissed squarely on the nose.

In 2008, I realized I wanted to focus more on the pit bulls in my neighborhood so I stepped down from BullsEye Dog Rescue and started volunteering at the Seattle Animal Shelter. Many of the dogs at the shelter are pit bulls, and my work at the shelter has connected me to the dogs in my neighborhood in unexpected ways.

Loca was a pit bull two blocks from my house that Animal Control fought hard to help. When she was finally euthanized in 2008, her owners kept Chato (the red male) and one of Chato and Loca’s offspring, Puppy (also a red male).  The family that owned and bred these dogs were evicted from their home after a drive-by shooting and a Child Protective Services intervention in May that year. I worried about the whereabouts of the dogs and didn’t see them with the kids who still hung out in South Park.

Several months later, I arrived for a volunteer shift at the shelter, and another volunteer said to me, “There are two really scarey pit bulls that Animal Control brought in today–go check em out.”  I knew which kennels they were in because of their barks, and I didn’t make eye contact with the two dogs as I approached. They were separated, in side-by-side kennels. Two red male pit bulls, out-of-their-minds, scared, and pissed off. I read the officer’s intake notes hanging on the kennel doors as they barked right through me.

It was Chato and Puppy. Some time after their owner was evicted, Chato and Puppy were left at a relative’s house tied to a tree. The relative couldn’t take care of the dogs so when their owner didn’t come back as she’d promised, they called Animal Control to come pick them up. Chato and Puppy were euthanized three days later.

Part of me was very sad for these two dogs who didn’t get what they needed from people and part of me was quite relieved these two dogs weren’t out there, whereabouts unknown.

What Chato and Puppy weren’t, so many pit bulls that come to the shelter are: Pit bulls that, despite not getting what they need, continue to trust people with an against-all-odds spirit, an endurance to be a good dog when so many people in the world want them to be bad dogs.

Penny is one of those pit bulls. She’s currently available for adoption at the Seattle Animal Shelter. Check her out.

When I first saw her in 2006 (the year we moved in), she was in the front yard with no fencing, tied to a tree log. The house she’s tied up in front of 24-7 is on a dead-end street with million dollar, panoramic views of the Seattle skyline.

That first time I saw her, she charged at me when I walked past, dragging the log just a few feet and stopping. Scared the bejillies outta me. We named her La Tigre because of her brindle coat and because she’s more like a wild animal than a pet. Miguel has chucked hot dogs at her over the years in hopes she’ll warm up to us but that hasn’t happened.

I call Animal Control several times a year to check on her, and there’s not much they can do because she doesn’t need immediate medical attention. They’ve warned the owners about the importance of fresh water. One time she had no water and one time her water was frozen.

I haven’t seen her tied to a log since 2006 but I’ve seen her: Tied to a tree. Tied up using a stake in the ground. Tied to a lawn mower. Tied to the bumper of a car. Tied to furniture in the carport. 

Here’s a photo of her dog house and the carport where they sometimes keep her. In this photo, she’s in the dog house.

And here’s the photo I snapped of her when she came out of the dog house that day. It was mid-winter, and she was wearing a tank top that read, “What chills?” Probably a bad English translation for “What gives?” (I thought, “Well, she chills–she’s freakin cold!). My hands were shaking because I was scared someone would see me photographing her. 

In the foreground are bags of garbage she tore into and rummaged through for days. In the background is a mattress her owners dumped in the front yard.

During a late-night drive-by with my friend Stefaney a fews weeks later, we discovered La Tigre had dug a hole in the mattress and was sleeping in it. It was quite a sight seeing her come barking up-and-out of that mattress.

One Fall Sunday in 2007, we were out for a walk with Gigi who was riding in the baby backpack, and we did our usual walk-by to see how La Tigre was doing. As we walked back through the field towards our house, we came across 4 teenagers we’d never met drinking beer under a tree. They asked us if we’d been to church and were put off when we said no. I replied, “Next time you’re at church though, will you pray for that dog over there living in garbage?”

One of the kids jumped forward and said, “That’s my dog, and you’re the one that’s been calling Animal Control.” Miguel stood in between us as I said, “It’s not me but I can see why someone’s calling.” There were two girls with the two guys, and they got very nervous as the kid asked if we wanted to meet the dog. Miguel said, “We’d love to meet her if she’s friendly.” The kid bawked, “She’d eat you up.” We backed out of the confrontation, saying as we walked off, “Just give her some love, bring her inside, that’s all.”

I’ve learned from Animal Control reports that her name is “China”, that she’s been chained up for five years, and that I’m not the only neighbor that calls. In my mind, she’s the typical pit bull people have wrongly tied up as guard dogs. While I don’t believe any animal should be tied up 24-7 without exercise and socialization, pit bulls are not a guardian breed and are highly social dogs that thrive from human interaction. La Tigre is the pit bull that makes newspaper headlines–a neglected, frustrated dog that’s gone dark.

I can’t save her so I keep her front-of-mind. Yesterday was Valentine’s Day so I walked by to chuck some hot dogs at her. My aim was off, and the hot dogs fell well beyond the length of her chain. 

In 2007, we estimated there were 1,304 pit bulls across 8 local shelters. One of the shelters missed the first quarter of reporting and this doesn’t include dogs in quarantine. 

The Tacoma Humane Society is one of those shelters, and they handled the largest percentage accounting for 483 pit bulls that year. Tacoma is notorious for their pit bull euthanasia policy. There are rare exceptions (including a new pilot adoption program with BullsEye Dog Rescue) but overall, without regard for health or temperament, the shelter has euthanized all pit bulls since 1987.

The shelter reports looked something like this: Shelter ID, Sex, Age, Neutered, Origin, Name (unknown most of the time), and sometimes the shelter checker would include comments that I would include in my report. Here are a few of the comments from 2007:

• Female still lactating. No sign of pups.
• Buddy is 10 years old.
• 3 of 6 came in together. Owner in jail.
• Male being held for cruelty case.
• 3 females confiscated for cruelty.
• Outcome: Pit bull puppy was stolen from shelter.
  • And worth noting: The dog that was stolen from the shelter showed up at the same shelter 2 years later.

I’m looking back at SPDR’s other breed counts for 2007. German Sheperds accounted for 182 dogs with Labrador Retrievers as the next most common pure breed at 177. Golden Retrievers (145) were the 6th most common breed coming in with higher counts than Rottweilers in 2007.

Pit bulls top the charts of breeds handled for every shelter in Seattle since 2001. In 2007:  67% were under 2 years old. Only 15% were neutered. 90% were strays. 

Most of the pit bulls came in without a name, without a trace of a human to call their very own.

I don’t know what makes it possible for someone to leave two scared, 6-week old puppies in an empty, dark parking lot in blustery weather and drive off. Is it faith? Faith that a good samaritan will find them, love them, and raise them to be good family pets. Is it desperation? Desperate to get rid of something that depends on you for life–because you already have too much that depends on you. Is it cruelty? A complete disregard for life.

A vet told these nice women they were pit bulls and referred them to BullsEye for help. I went to meet the two puppies with my friend, Stefaney.  

Here’s Elsie. She was a mess. Note her front paws lay almost flat. This is due to poor nutrition and lack of exercise. She also had weak, back hips so she didn’t stand very much, and she sat with her hips settled awkwardly to the left. She’s also wall-eyed like a fish and has an under bite that only mothers love. We tested her hearing given her white coat and pink skin. Seemed fine. We introduced her to Stefaney’s pit bull, Maggie, and she was scared instead of curious even though Maggie completely ignored her.
 
Dazie looked and acted more healthy overall but her brindle coloring disguised some of the same issues. We visited for two hours teaching Cheryl as much as we could about the breed and caring for puppies that had a poor start. She, like most people, was scared of pit bulls because she only knew what she saw on TV and heard in the news. She asked really good questioned and listened closely.

She was willing to foster if we agreed to find them a home–but she couldn’t keep them because she travelled for work and had cats. But I knew it’d be next-to-impossible to find them homes, and I thought of Fagen. Ultimately, I didn’t think it was responsible to find them homes given their health issues.

Cheryl got quiet when we recommended she put them to sleep. We asked her to think about the bigger picture: Why does the world need two more backyard bred pit bulls?

This was the last photo I took during our visit. Cheryl had a big decision to make, and I can see her thinking about that decision in this photo.

It’s now 2 years later, and I sent Cheryl an email a few weeks ago to check-in. I fully expected Cheryl to be without the girls and to hear their sad outcomes.

To my surprise, Elsie and Dazie are still with Cheryl and doing quite well despite some of the problems we predicted. So I’ve been asking myself about the bigger picture.

Because even if the world doesn’t need these two puppies, Cheryl does. I don’t know if they give her purpose or if it’s the promise of unconditional love. I do know that Cheryl is led by her heart, caring for these dogs that someone else just couldn’t care for. And for me, that makes the world a more hopeful place to be.