Twinkle, Twinkle Little Pit

It was more than an urge to fill the silence; deeper than the need to feel the unconditional love of a dog; it was a thump in my chest as a very skinny, black dog with snot dripping down his heart-shaped nose stood across the room from me, hesitant. I bent down and I saw his cocoa brown eyes brighten with every wiggly-step he took towards me. The spark between the formerly known as Cappucino and I told me that the meet 'n' greet, arranged by Alive Rescue, might have a different ending than the other dogs with heart-wrenching stories that I had met in weeks prior. I fell in love with so many soulful eyes from behind my computer screen then subsequently rubbed burly shoulders or tossed a ball and decided that bringing home an animal simply out of pity was not the right next chapter in my book. I know plenty of people who fall in love with a pooch long after they settle in together; but that was not my path. And, I did not set out to adopt a Pit Bull or not adopt one. Nor did I aspire to bring in a dog for the sake of making a larger impact on the world.

But, I sensed there may be more for Lil' Big Head and I; just like Finn and no matter what motivated me with either. Sometimes, sitting in traffic, I think of what my typed-up, laminated world might look like if Finn had not rescued me after I saved him. During my first morning walk with Gavin, he gambled behind me down the short, slippery wooden steps of my condo building. I wondered what the hundreds of moms and school children would think of my new puppy. I knew it would be hard to introduce Gavin to my neighbors because my veil of sadness preceded me by at least six steps. But, would they look at him different because he had a giant head? Then, a welcome revelation. The same people I witnessed walk so far into the parkway to avoid my cheery, senior Lug that they almost tripped on the curb also looked eerily over their shoulder and sped up as Gavin trailed behind them. Lil' Big Head's display was really pitiful as he tried so hard to show off his ecstatic scrunch face and accompanying squirm, jiggle dance as person after person passed by him; convinced he loved each human more than the last.

Fortunately, some kids saw him and squealed, "he is soooo cute" as they surrounded my bouncing performing artist. After I confirmed for half-listening minors that yes, the dog softly oozing into their shins for more, more, more chest massages was probably a Pit Bull; many would start rattling off stories of how funny their Pit Bull is when he snores or how much they love their uncle's Pittie. I have lost count of how many people have sped up to walk with us and ask me if Gavin is a Pit with one breath. Then, passionately illustrate with the next gulp, the friendliness of their own Pit Bull and tell me how the breed gets a bad reputation. The conversation always ends with me receiving a hearty pat on the back for joining in the revolution against prejudice. It often seems like Gavin and I joined a club.

I snapped the below picture a few days after Gavin came home with me and his face has blossomed so much since then; the way it does when a dog feels understood and secure. In those six months, I forgot that some folks just do not like dogs or big ones. I try to be a respectful good human, even though I cannot imagine disliking dogs. Finn was not allowed to nudge someone that was steering clear of us, and Gavin is starting to understand the same rule. One morning, as Lil' Big Head and I power-walked towards the promised land of squirrels; I saw a petite woman a half block away, scurry the other direction while yanking her petite marshmallow of a dog. The terror in her eyes was so jutting, I looked behind me to see if there was a zombie reaching for my pony-tail. I could feel my deltoids tense and told her in the nicest tone I could muster that just because Gavin is a Pit Bull (or looks like one) does not mean he is mean and she responded, "Oh, I'm sure he's nice but mine is not". Like everyone else, I got so caught up in my own hectic schedule and multi-tasking that I neglected to realize, that very rarely, is it about me.

There is a man in my neighborhood with a seemingly lovely Boxer who I have seen play with a lot of Lil Big Head's friends before he was my Gavin. But, the dog is always off-leash and the guy, well, was and to my knowledge still is, a real jerk. I used to see the pair together at the park and would ask the man to politely to please put his dog on a leash. I never wanted or cared to explain that yes, Finn was looking up at me. But if the Boxer's dad had met us a decade earlier, Finn's fear of other dogs would have been very clear by the deep barks he heard way before he saw us. I trusted Finn with dogs I knew well and trusted too. But, my Lug's faith in me and relaxed demeanor, around other dogs, was built on a lot of work together and my promise to him that I would keep bouncy dogs away from his face. I was absolutely aghast when I saw this older man, who I believe is also a father to a few human children, dance around and taunt me while saying, "you think your dog is too good for mine" and puckering out his bottom lip. Really, he looked like he just stole my lunch money the way he was sashaying around. I changed our route and now when I see the teenage boy trapped in an older man's body; Gavin and I walk on by. Lil' Big Head does not need to be friends with the Boxer if it means I would have to have spend even two seconds speaking with that guy.

I would like to believe the world has changed; only twice have I had someone on the street blatantly tell me that Gavin is going to kill them because they label him a Pit Bull or scream bloody murder and run away. Yeah, high pitched noises and fast movement is the best approach near a dog one fear's might be aggressive. Luckily for them, Gavin is quite the opposite. Saturday morning, I was procrastinating cleaning the house when I re-read the story about Lennox, the Pit Bull who was torn from his home in Belfast, I looked at Gavin, who could be Lennox's cousin. He was sound asleep, squeaking and honking on the same bed Finn once quivered and squealed delightfully in dreamland while he rested his head on his ducky toy. I could not imagine, even after only six months, someone taking Gavin from me. And, I was beyond angry.

There are countless animals, sitting behind bars, scared and unwanted. Yet, Lennox, a dog who was
absolutely adored by his family was ripped from his home. Just because he had a big head. I took Gavin for a walk, it was such a beautiful day and I thought it might help me shake the fiery reaction I had to the article. As Lil' Big Head and I entered the forest preserve, I could tell by the way his head perked up; there was a dog ahead of us. I braced myself for the inevitable nut on the forehead. Every single time Finn and I were in that spot, BONK. I would look up and see a squirrel chuckling, holding an acorn.

So, I asked the obligatory "does your dog like other dogs?" to the mom holding a Beagle's leash. And, when she asked me the same, I could see her hesitate. The shard was wedged on my shoulders. I told her that Gavin was VERY friendly and as the two dogs sniffed butts and shared a few pounces; she sighed and told me she still gets nervous around Pit Bulls. I could have rolled my eyes or fired off some rant about prejudice because I was a still amped up from Lennox's story. But, all that would have told her was I am a jerk. Instead, I let Gavin roll around like a tootsie roll while her sons rubbed his belly and maybe, hopefully, I changed her view of my Pittie and other nice dogs out there. No matter what they look like.