Pit Bull Notes from Seattle

In November 2007, Cheryl’s best friend found two puppies in a parking lot as the sun was rising. She was out walking her dog when she spotted two creatures huddled together–she thought they were baby possums, lost. The puppies were so scared she was certain they hadn’t moved since someone set them on the wet pavement.  

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.

In 2006, friends approached us at a baby shower and said, “We’re breaking up so you’re buying our house.” We weren’t planning to buy a house but they convinced us with fish tacos and Sangria so we sprung for the modest house in South Park, Seattle’s last affordable neighborhood.

South Park was a farming community in the early 1900s, providing fruits and vegetables to downtown’s Pike Place Market. In the 20s, Boeing moved in next door to build airplanes, and in the 50s, South Park was divided into residential and industrial land zones. The Duwamish River that runs through the neighborhood quickly became polluted and in 2001, this part of the river became a Super Fund site.

When we moved into our home in 2006, I knew South Park was a blue collar neighborhood that also included activists, artists, and the best Mexican food in Seattle. 

What I didn’t know was the number of pit bulls I would come to worry about.

A few months after moving in, Miguel was taking out the garbage when he started shouting frantically over the fence, “Throw me the dog mace. Quick. Now!”  When I jumped onto a chair to toss him the mace, I was surprised to see a white pit bull with a black spot on her eye lunging at him.

A kid about 6-years old distracted her away, and Miguel chased after the kid to say, “Hey, here’s a leash if you need it.”  The kid ignored Miguel. As soon as they’d appeared, they were gone.

It turned out this pit bull named “Loca” lived just around the corner. She’d gotten loose. She was usually tied to a tree on a lot with an empty house, and she shared her 6-foot diameter space with Chato, a male pit bull that had full run of the yard.

Their owners lived in the house next door.

Chato fared better because he wasn’t chained 24-7 and because he got more human interaction. Sometimes I’d even see his owners taking him for a walk.

Loca was always chained up.

I walked and drove past the lot daily to check on her. Loca tossed her dog bowls. She knocked her dog house on its side and stood on top of it. She dug holes. She chased her tail. She stared into the sky. She chewed through ropes, chains, and jumped fences to escape. She did everything she could to fight against her situation, her helplessness.

I first called Animal Control to do a welfare check as the weather turned cold that year. She didn’t need medical attention so Animal Control couldn’t do much. They could only advise the owners to make sure she had water and to keep her shelter upright.

That winter was tough. It rained like hell. When the temperature dropped, I called Animal Control. When the storms howled, I didn’t sleep. I’d look out the kitchen window for hours, watching the trees and sheets of rain, heart breaking because I knew she was miserable. I knew she was suffering.

This wasn’t a dog I could steal or try to help directly. I couldn’t get access to her because she was chained up in the center of the backyard. I couldn’t even chuck a hot dog or dog bone to her from that distance. My best bet was to hound Animal Control because I knew her health would degrade to the point of them being able to do something.

Loca made it through winter and in the spring, my heart sank when I realized she was pregnant. Miguel took every opportunity to chat up the kids that owned her when he could. He found out she had nine puppies. They were excited to sell the puppies and were planning to keep a few.

I met two of the puppies one day when the kids were out walking them with Chato. Oh, what cute puppies!  How old? As I tried to pet the 6-week old pups, they squared off with me and barked, keeping their distance. Not at all what I’d expect from puppies.

About two weeks later, as I was getting into my car for the morning commute, I saw an off-leash pit bull roaming the field next to our house. I started to track this dog in my car but when I drove past Chato and Loca, I spotted two of their puppies–they’d slipped the fence and were two yards down.

I saw an opportunity and took it. I pulled over, lured the dogs with treats, bundled them into my arms, and drove off. My legs were shaking so badly I almost tapped the gas peddle instead of the brakes at the first street light.

I took them to work and because I couldn’t take the puppies back to our house, I’d planned to overnight them with a friend. But that day in the parking garage, as I was taking them out for a potty break, we came across a black lab puppy about their same age. The two pit bull puppies went after the lab with a mission to kill it. They weren’t sound.

Alarmed but clear-minded, I knew the right thing to do. As hard as it was to decide to put down two cute puppies, I knew these two dogs were not bred for good health or temperament. I also knew the world would not be worse off without two more pit bulls.

Dr. Heino at Rainier Valley Vet didn’t want to put them down but when the puppies went after another dog in their care, he agreed it was ultimately the best decision.

Spring turned to fall, and fall turned to winter. But Loca didn’t have another winter in her. Animal Control continued to do welfare checks, and eventually her health warranted immediate medical attention in December of 2007.  An infection in her uterus.

Here are some of the photos they took of her. She was euthanized in early 2008.

I cry for Loca now as I did on many nights. It was the people who made her crazy, the people who failed to do right by her, the people who’ve forgotten her.