Pit Bull Notes from Seattle

I imagined I’d be one of those people that grew old with a house full of pets and without a human to share life with. While I think Kurt Vonnegut is a jerk–and I spent a day with him in my 20s so I can say that–I agree with him: The more people I meet, the more I like my dog.

Nevertheless, I posted a personal ad in The Stranger, and the ad concluded with: And you must be comfortable with dogs, lots of dogs. My profile picture was a photograph of me with Buffalo Sky stretched out across my desk at work. 

We both caught someone’s fancy. I met Miguel for the first time at Three Dog Bakery–I was smart enough not to meet strangers in bars so I invited him down to the Pit Bull Project booth one Saturday in 2003. It’s a sugery sweet story–it was Valentine’s Day weekend.

He asked good questions about pit bulls and spent the afternoon meeting dogs and listening to conversations. By the end of that first date, he was answering tourist’s questions about the breed. It wasn’t long before Miguel was hooked on pit bulls.

And it was only a matter of weeks for Buffalo Sky to be hooked on him. This photograph was taken about 2 months later:  She was his dog.

 
We shacked up, and our life included fostering pit bull puppies–every one of which Miguel has wanted to keep. Here’s Blue, Miguel’s first foster.  

And this photograph was taken this past September at Pit Bulls on Parade, an event organized by BullsEye Dog Rescue.  Buffalo and Miguel are an impressive frisbee demo team–not bad for an 7-year old dog.

Here’s another action shot Becky Meigs took at the event:

Anne phoned me one day very excited. She reported the dog for me just joined Pit Bull Project: a four-month old female with a baked potato brown spot on her back from Diane Jessup. The dog’s name was Diane, and we joked it was a sign Diane was tired of naming dogs.

Diane is someone we look up to as a rock star in the pit bull world. She’s a nationally-respected pit bull advocate who lives in Olympia, and she worked tirelessly for Thurston County Animal Control. She also wrote two must-read books, The Working Pit Bull and The Dog Who Spoke with Gods, and is frequently quoted as an expert.  

I don’t know how Diane and Anne met. I do know they respected each other because pit bulls were more than just their passion. Pit bulls were their lives. 

I had a reluctant heart because of Tupelo Brown but I agreed to give *Diane* a trial run. I’m not clear where she came from. I remember something about her being smuggled out of a fighting ring in New York…Diane wanted to train her for schutzhund because of her drive but she chipped her front, right shoulder during training.

Here she is with Spatula, the Jack Russell I co-parented with an Ex. I re-named her Buffalo Sky. In my mind, a buffalo sky is a Montana skyline with fluffy white clouds against deep blue. But I think I made it up.

Over the years, I’ve come to describe Buffalo as being more of a working dog than a family pet. And remembering her early days with Diane Jessup, that’s no surprise.

Buffalo has attended countless public events with me, and we’re a Delta-certified Animal Assisted Therapy Dog team. She’s a frisbee daredevil, an acrobatic tree climber, and races snowboarders down mountains. She’s also a knucklehead that still jumps on people when they come visit and will lick you head-to-toe faster than you can say spaghetti pants.

Here we are at Three Dog Bakery one weekend.

Sweet Georgia Brown also came to us one of the usual ways: A kid brought her home one day to keep, and the parents said, “No way.”  She was a tubby, brindle puppy with classic pit bull markings. And she was snuggly! Instead of being go-go-go, she was a couch potato. Here she is with Dave and Relaena at Three Dog Bakery.

The Bakery is no longer across the street from Pike Place Market but for a couple of years, it was a place we set up a booth to raise money for pit bulls and to educate people about the breed.

This was one of the first Saturdays we were there selling calendars and chatting up tourists from the cruise ships.

A really tall guy walked in and started talking to me about Sweet Georgia Brown. He explained he had two pit bulls at home and that one his favorite restaurants was called Sweet Georgia Brown’s. I noticed people crowding around a bit, and when I dug into my backpack to give him a card, Dave explained he was Desmond Mason, a Sonics player.

He was really interested in adopting her but wanted to take it slow–he scored bonus points with us because of it. We immediately had ideas about how Desmond could help us do some education. We envisioned PSAs, half-time demos with pit bulls, posters about spay-neuter, a public figure that could really change the way people think.

We were planning an overnight with her to see how things went with his two dogs but it fell through. Desmond had a friend taking care of his pit bulls while he was travelling, and the friend fed the two dogs in the same kennel. A dog fight broke out that rattled everyone.  After several phone conversations, Desmond agreed it was too risky and that it was more important to get his two dogs back on track. 

We found this little girl a nice home, and while I don’t know exactly where she is now, I’m confident she’s a beloved family pet.

Nine 2-week old puppies were found in a motel room in Auburn in 2002. The motel manager found Anne like a lot of folks did–simply word of mouth. We set up a play pen at Ideal Pet Stop, and many volunteers helped feed, clean, and care for these pups whose eyes weren’t even opened yet.

Anne watched them round the clock. Bottle feeding, eye wiping, changing linens, and introducing them to every person to walk through the pet store door. Our goal was 100 people a week.

The puppies made us happy. Even though they didn’t have an ideal start, we believed we could make up for every minute they were away from their mom and for every minute they were left completely alone in that motel room. It was so fun to name them, try to remember who-was -who, and guess which ones would be goofy, laid back, and spazzy.

One of the puppies had a beautiful, brown coat with a silvery-blue tint. He was the bruiser of the litter, and Anne took a shine to him. Here she is with the puppy she named Silk. 

We all had our favorites, and I fell involve with a brindle female so it was time to move. It was the first time as a renter I had to ask a landlord if I could have a pit bull: Len said as long as I kept the grass mowed and paid the rent on time, he didn’t care if I had elephants as pets. I loved Len for that.

And the house was just a mile from the pet store so now I was in the neighborhood.

I named her Tupelo–bonus points if you can guess why–and I didn’t have her very long. I took her to Rainier Valley Vet to have her spayed when she was 4 months old, and they accidentally gave her too much anesthesia. Her heart stopped.

Anne called me at work. She couldn’t even say the words. All she could get out was, “MaggieP’s on her way to pick you up.”  MaggieP and I went down to the vet to say goodbye. I drowned poor Tupie in tears.

I thought it was ironic at the time: I tried to help pit bulls and when I finally got one of my very own, she was taken away. It seemed unfair–even though I don’t really believe in fair. This was the last photograph I took of her. Notice Lindel, my orange tabby, sitting in the background.

Remember I started collecting the pieces with MaggieP? A year or more had passed since I walked into her neighbor’s backyard. And like me, MaggieP spent Saturdays at Ideal Pet Stop walking dogs, washing dogs, and playing with as many pit bulls as she could. I took this photo of her one Saturday.

And like me, MaggieP really wanted to adopt a pit bull for her very own so she moved away from the house where she’d been watching over the neighbor’s dogs.

And about the same time that she bought a house in 2002, she fell in love with Baby, a 2-year old, squatty, hunka-hunka, red-and-white pit bull that came to Anne as an owner surrender. 

This little girl was shy when she first arrived but MaggieP brought her back to life. You’ll note her previous owner used scissors to crop her ears.

A few weeks ago, MaggieP reported: At the tender age of nine, she climbed up a 15-foot rock climbing wall at Camp Long because she wanted to do it with me.

You make us proud, Proud Baby.

I was still photographing families Anne had adopted pit bulls to, and we decided that instead of a photo exhibit we’d do a fundraising calendar. We agreed this was the perfect way to touch a lot more people–and a great way to launch Pit Bull Project as a new rescue organization.

This photograph of Anne’s son, Raphael, was taken at Ideal Pet Stop. The 5-month old, blue brindle is Merlin, the only pit bull that became one of Anne’s dog–he was her go-everywhere dog. 

This photo was included in the calendar that raised money to care for and find homes for many Seattle pit bulls. The picture was also included in the South Seattle Star.

The 2003 Pit Bull Project calendar was the first of 5 calendars. Here it is scanned in from the one remaining copy I have: http://www.pitbullnotes.com/?page_id=360

One day when I was Ideal Pet Stop visiting Anne, this wedding photo came in the mail. She received photographs like this with letters of gratitude, us-now letters, holiday best wishes.

I love this photo as much as I did then–about 7 years ago. I don’t know the people or the dog but I’m moved by the fact they included their pit bull in their wedding photo. I love these people who kneeled down to be right next to their dog without worrying the gown would get dity. The dog is also dressed to the nines to match the bride and groom. And simply put: They look happy and proud. I was so struck by the photo that Anne gave it to me.

When she mentioned the pit bull above was a mix, it sparked a conversation about how she wished she had more control of doing pit bull rescue the way she wanted. She was the breed representative for SPDR and because it was a pure breed rescue, they frowned upon Anne when she worked with mixes.

She talked about other ways she was constrained by SPDR and noted her relationship with the board was tenuous at best. My take was Anne had outgrown their organization–too much paperwork, too much process, and not enough influence. From phone inquiries to owner listings  to adoptions, Anne was handling about 900 pit bulls a year. The Rottweiler breed representative was a distant second, handling about 300 dogs a year. The Jack Russell breed representative handled 33 dogs a year. For Anne, it was a full-time job.

So that day I took the reigns on figuring out  how to create a non-profit so she could break away from SPDR and do rescue the way she wanted. I went to Barnes and Noble and bought a how-to book.

Here’s another photo Anne gave me. It’s a high school senior portrait that reminds me rescue is as much about people as it is about the dogs.

Louie came from Kent Animal Control when he was about 4 months old. They were reluctant to adopt out pit bulls but wanted to *save* him because of his striking good looks–he had a lightning bolt marking down his face. He was also a good dog with some basic skills, including walking on a leash without dragging you down the street.

And he was the first pit bull I really wanted to keep. He was goofy, loving, and had wonderfully sweet eyes. But without a full time job (remember I lost my job in the dot com bust?) and without a yard, it wasn’t the responsible thing to do.

He was very tall-n-lanky so we suspected he was a Dane mix but after watching him chase after squirrels, we agreed he was part Greyhound. A dear friend of mine adopted him–the same friend that first told me about Anne’s pit bull rescue at Ideal Pet Stop. I took this photo one Sunday morning. This was typical Louie: clowning around while his people are trying to read the paper and drink their coffee.

The more involved I was with Anne’s pit bull rescue, the more puppies I fostered in my 500 square foot studio apartment in Capital Hill. I lived over Fillipi Book and Records, and Brenda Fillipi didn’t bat an eye when I told her I was keeping pit bull puppies in the apartment I rented from her. Brenda was great like that.

Anne rang me up one day with a request to foster four, 5-week old puppies that had been left in a cardboard box outside the Humane Society in Bellevue. Here’s the Fab Four in my kitchen.

Three were adopted quickly. The 4th, Bandsaw Jackson, was shy and a little fearful. She stayed with me until she was 5 months old. I socialized her like crazy: riding the bus downtown; carting her through the grocery store; meet-n-greets at Volunteer Park; the Pride Parade; hiking in the mountains. Here’s Bandsaw at Ocean Shores.

Along came Danielle, a woman who grew up with big dogs. She fell in love with this beach photo of Bandsaw on PetFinder and after trying to talk her out of it, she proved she was committed to working with her quirky behavior.  This is one of several Christmas cards Danielle has sent over the years. She adopted Brooklyn, the white pit bull, about 2 years later.

This is the joy of fostering: You raise em like your own, send em off to become someone else’s beloved family pet, and then you see photos like this. All grown up and getting to eat the cookie dough right outta the mixer.