|Camaro is the one on the left.|
I've been bitten by a lot of dogs and cats. I don't really pay much attention to their boundaries, apparently.
I've been bitten by a german shepherd, a poodle, a labrador retriever, and a little thing that barked a lot (almost positive it was a dog). Heck, I was even given a "warning bite" by a dog that was 1/4 wolf. The wolf/dog had the decency to miss my personal bits by about two inches. With all this provoked biting, I still like all dogs.... except for pit bulls.
I've had a few mishaps with pit bulls, including one big girl named Rosey, who decided to hold me hostage in a costume store because I stopped petting her. While her owner was trying to hold her back so I could escape, he kept saying, "I've never seen her like this!" And that's why I don't like pit bulls. They're unpredictable and capable of removing body parts.
A while back, California renamed the pit bull terrier, "St. Francis Terrier" in order to get more of them adopted out of shelters. They had to drop the change when a high percentage of the adopted pit bulls killed other family pets. The adoptive parents weren't happy for some reason.
Think about it this way... Chihuahuas are unpredictable, but if a chihuahua gets feisty and latches on to your tibia, it's going to hurt. But a chihuahua can be subdued with a Popsicle stick and liquid paper. On the other hand, if a pit bull clamps down on your forearm, you could pull out your pepper spray, Tazer, and a can of Whoop-ass, and you will still have a pit bull on your forearm.
So, now, you may wonder why I have a large pit bull helping me drive a Subaru. Ahh, that's the story.
It started when my friend called me up and asked me to feed his daughter's dog because they were both out of town. I had met Camaro, the pit bull, months ago and found him to be a bit of a weenie, so I wasn't intimidated by the job.
When I got to the house, I decided the dog needed to be walked, because dogs like to sniff things and then pee on them. He wouldn't come near me until I picked up the leash. With the leash in hand, I transformed from intruder into Master of Happiness.
Camaro is a typical pit bull. His head is made from a cement block with fuzzy skin stretched over it, and his body is made of balistic rubber, containing a digestive system capable of dispensing things like chewed tennis balls and small horses. I prepared to be dragged around the block by the large dog named after a muscle car, but Camaro was mostly obedient on the leash.
After three visits and no victims left on the side of the road, my friend called back and asked if I could take the dog to a kennel, since their stay got extended.
Camaro and I had one last trip around the block, then hopped in the car for a ride to the kennel. He kept watch for oncoming traffic, and made sure that my center console was lubricated. He's thoughtful that way.
At the kennel, he seemed happy enough to have new places to smell and pee on. And with that, we parted ways.
I suppose I softened a bit while taking care of the big fella. He didn't crush my skull or eat the neighbors. In fact he was a sweetie pie. So, don't tell Camaro, but I still don't like pit bulls.