The Truth About Pit Bulls

Marin Rose — Mon, 08 Apr 2024 01:21:09 GMT

The Truth About Pit Bulls

America’s taste for risk and identity politics stymie (yet another case of) common-sense public safety progress.

Three years ago today, on April 7, 2021, my husband Daniel left our apartment to take our five-year-old chihuahua mix Zelda on her evening walk around the block. He invited me to join but I chose to remain on the sofa. “You’ll be back in a few minutes,” I told him and watched Zelda prance away by his side.

Not five minutes later, Daniel was calling me. “Come downstairs and bring a towel,” he said. In the background, I could hear a woman yelling, “Oh my God, she’s never done this before!”

I found Daniel at the corner across the intersection from our building. He wrapped Zelda, frozen with shock, in the towel I’d grabbed on my run out of the door. In the interminable cab ride to the animal hospital, Daniel told me that Zelda had been charged and bitten by a pit bull, who’d escaped its owners’ grip on the rope they’d been using in place of a leash. Daniel had beaten the attacker over the head repeatedly until it finally let go of Zelda. His knuckles were bloody and already bruising. The owners fled the scene, refusing to provide their names or contact information, and leaving Daniel among a small crowd of strangers who had witnessed the attack.

Zelda never recovered from the shock. The vets sedated her, determined that injuries to her chest and abdominal cavities (her intestines were exposed) were too severe to treat, and eventually advised us to euthanize her. We held her and sobbed into her fur as we said goodbye. Her eyes remained glassy, as though she’d already left us. I realized that my actual goodbye — the last time I saw Zelda truly alive — had been that brief moment just hours before when I’d watched her trot out the door with Daniel, expecting they’d be home soon.

The state of things

The next day, Daniel and I walked to the police station down the block from our home and the site of the attack. Daniel had snapped a phone photo of the couple and their dog immediately after the attack, which we showed to the police. We’d already showed the photo around the neighborhood. Several people recognized the couple and the dog. One reported having been out with her toddler and encountering the dog unleashed. She reported that the owner refused to leash the dog. Two others said they’d seen the dog being aggressive and witnessed the owners barely able to keep their grip on the leash. I have a hard time believing that, as the woman claimed, “she’s never done that before.”

With all this evidence, we were sure the police could locate the owners and take necessary steps to get their dog off the streets. The detectives who greeted us expressed their compassion but informed us that, in New York, there is no mechanism for reporting a dog bite unless the victim is human. We could try to locate the owners ourselves, they said, and take them to civil court for damages, as our dog was considered “property.” But we weren’t interested in extracting money from a couple who were quite obviously living below the poverty line. We just wanted the dangerous dog removed from their neglectful “care.”

Even when we saw the couple again and determined where they live, calls to the local Humane Society, 311, Department of Health and Mental Hygiene, ASPCA, and Animal Care Centers all confirmed that there was no path to pursue action to prevent their dog from harming others. Although any bite of a human is required to be reported to the above agencies, there is no protocol for reporting or acting on animal-on-animal bites in New York. And our state is no outlier. In 10 American states, dogs are not required to be reported for attacking other animals. Even if a dog bites a human, there is often no protocol for removing or rendering it harmless. This lack of regulation allows dangerous dogs to roam freely and put the public at risk.

Losing our beloved dog suddenly, tragically, violently, prematurely was deeply painful. Learning that we were helpless to prevent the same thing from happening to another pet — or person — was infuriating. The very dog that killed Zelda had likely attacked before. The law had done nothing to protect us.

On the awful final night of Zelda’s short life, Daniel and I joined a club we never wanted to be a part of: people who’ve lost loved ones, including pets, to pit bulls. It’s a large and growing club with members all over the world. Three years later, I finally have enough distance from the experience to tell my story and share the terrible things I’ve learned in the hope that hearts, minds, and policies, will change to protect us all.

What I found out the hard way

By the time of the lethal attack on my Zelda, I had mostly overcome my innate apprehension around pit bulls by accepting the “pit bull propaganda” that has reversed former attitudes toward these dogs in recent decades and systematically overturned long-installed breed bans around the country. I willingly petted neighborhood “pitties,” as they are lovingly called, chiding myself for my previous instinct to judge these massive animals by their muscle-bound appearance and giant jaws.

Whether or not you buy it, you’ve heard the propaganda, too:

Pit Bulls Are Naturally Gentle: Proponents of pit bulls often argue that these dogs are inherently gentle and loving. “He might lick you to death,” is a common refrain. “It’s the chihuahuas you have to watch out for.” I can attest to the fact that chihuahuas can generally be more aggressive than other breeds. Our Zelda was sometimes “reactive,” piercing our peace with her barking. She told me to stop kissing her face once by biting me on the nose. It hurt. A lot. For a minute. Mostly, it hurt my feelings, but I made a fast and full recovery. And I was never going to lose control of over her eight-pound body. Aggression is an equal but inequitable measure of danger. Research confirms that breed does matter and that pit bulls bite more frequently and more consequentially than other breeds.

Aggression Is Exclusively Due to Owners: Another common misconception is that all pit bull aggression stems from poor ownership and training. While it’s true that environmental factors can influence behavior, genetic predisposition plays a significant role. Pit bulls were specifically bred to be aggressive, and this trait is inherent to the breed. Certainly, in our case, the owners of the dog that killed Zelda were bad ones. If not abusive, they were at least irresponsible, exposing the public to a dog they refused or were unable to control. But I learned the hard way that, though there may not be bad dogs, there surely are dangerous ones. And, like too many dangerous things, they are increasingly unregulated in this country.

Pit Bulls Are Safe with Family: Although the pit bull lobby loves to tout them as “nanny dogs,” even well-loved pit bulls with no history of aggression have tragically attacked, victimizing family members and trusted individuals, including long-time owners, close pet “siblings,” and even experienced pit bull rescuers and trainers.

Pit Bulls Can Be Rehabilitated: Pit bull rescues are admirable in their efforts to shut down dog fighting rings and rescue their canine victims. Tragically, though, claims that dogs who have been bred — and in these cases also trained — to kill can be rehabilitated land dangerous animals in unsuspecting homes. To their disgrace, some rescues and shelters accept dogs returned for aggression and proceed to re-home them again and again.

At an impasse

In the days, weeks, and months after the attack, I shared our story as widely as possible, desperate to warn others of the danger lurking in our streets. I posted flyers around our neighborhood, handed out leaflets to small dog owners around the city, and posted online and on social media. I started a Change.org petition that garnered 3,205 signatures and found a journalist who covered the story in a local news outlet.

Through this process, I encountered far too many others who had endured attacks by pit bulls. Many who lost their pets were also seriously injured in the process. Like them, I learned the cold, hard facts about pit bulls and their apologizers.

Before I go on, let me clarify that the term “pit bull” is a slang phrase used to describe dogs that were historically bred for fighting, including the American Pit Bull Terrier, American Staffordshire Terrier, Staffordshire Bull Terrier, and the American Bully. You’ll sometimes hear pittie lovers refer to them as Staffys. Pit bull rescues often use this euphemism or others like “mixed breed” to disarm wary potential adopters. Whatever we call them, though, statistics show that dogs bred for fighting are more likely to attack and to cause serious harm.

To make it worse, agenda-driven strangers on both sides of the pit bull divide will inevitably rush to pile on the blame. Pit bull apologists come to the dog’s defense because they must maintain the idea that pit bulls aren’t aggressive. They accuse the owners of having done something to abuse or provoke the dog. Pit bull attack victim Brooklinn Khoury said that “although I have never spoken badly about pit bulls, I get a lot of hateful comments. I’ve had many messages on TikTok from people telling me that I deserve to die for sharing my story.”

What surprised me when Zelda’s death exposed me to this world is that pit bull haters — and hate is the proper word — are just as vicious. Owner-victims get no sympathy from them. They will laughingly declare that you got what you deserved for having endangered your family and say you’re crazy for your sadness over losing your dog. “The only good pit bull is a dead pit bull,” is their heartless rallying cry. Imagine raising a pit bull from puppyhood that one day turns on your loved one. Your heartbreak for the victim, as well as for your beloved dog, whom you must give up or euthanize, must be unbearably painful and confusing. I have nothing but sympathy for those who experience this horror. They are doubly victims — not just of their dog but also of those who perpetuate the myth that pit bulls make safe pets. I can only imagine the guilt and regret they must feel.

Three years in, I daily encounter online vitriol from both sides of the pit bull issue. The two factions are equally extreme, showing no compassion or allowance for nuance, and ultimately keeping a reasonable solution out of reach.

I don’t hate pit bulls

I’ve been called crazy myself because I refuse to say that I “hate” the dog that killed mine. But as an animal lover, I both love and respect all types. If a tiger escapes a zoo or an exotic animal collector and must be killed, I grieve that loss with most others. We all seem to agree that the tiger is not “bad.” It’s just being a tiger. It’s not the animal’s fault that it is dangerous. It’s our fault for allowing them too close.

Both tigers and pit bulls are arguably beautiful creatures whom I understand to be capable, under the right circumstances, of forming trusting, affectionate relationships with humans. Many live full lifetimes in captivity without incident. But genetics are powerful, despite what pit bull defenders claim.

It’s neither legal nor ethical to keep tigers as pets in this country. They’re not roaming our city streets on leashes or padding around suburban yards. As a society, we recognize the inherent danger of exposing people and pets to a tiger in an unsecure setting. We prioritize public safety over the individual’s right to own a tiger outside of such a setting. Serious consequences await violators of exotic animal laws, as do practical ones (removal or euthanasia) for their dangerous “pets.” It stands to reason that pit bulls — like other animals capable of unprovoked attacks and devastating, potentially lethal injury — should be subject to the same regulations.

Stop the madness, save the dogs

Though neither side of the pit bull argument acts like it, we actually share a professed love for animals. We should all be saddened when a pit bull is euthanized, just as we are when a loose tiger (or alligator or bear, etc.) is killed for its proximity to humans.

True dog lovers would actually advocate against any breeding, at least until every dog has a safe and loving home. But pit bull lovers should stand especially against breeding, since it is these dogs so often filling animal shelters and facing euthanasia. The combined cessation of breeding and euthanasia of “reactive” (i.e. dangerous) pit bulls is actually the compassionate path — not just for potential attack victims — but for the dogs themselves, as they so often pay the price for human negligence.

At the very least, though, responsible pet ownership is a public safety must. Ideally, all pet owners would obey the rules and learn to humanely exercise control over their dogs. Unfortunately, that’s not the case and even if humane, effective canine training were standardized, attacks by dangerous breeds would be only minimally reduced because instinct overrides nurture. Therefore, potentially dangerous dogs — with or without a history of aggression — should be legally relegated to secure (i.e. Inescapable) spaces, required to wear a muzzle (as a leash alone cannot hold back a dog with the strength of a pit bull), and banned from mainstream situations where the public is unwittingly endangered.

Caretakers for even the most harmless animals are on the hook legally should they fail to reasonably contain or control their pets. Neighbors who violate leash laws, for example, can and should be penalized — and held legally accountable should their six-pound Labrador puppy, say, charge and injure a toddler. Voices on both sides of the pit bull fence agree. But the fanaticism on both sides of the aisle keeps us raging at one another instead of negotiating a reasonable solution.

Politics as usual

Sadly, this is unsurprising. In fact, it echoes the American divide over something else dangerous yet beloved: guns.

In the case of the gun control debate, the truth is that we agree more than we disagree. A “poll by the University of Chicago Harris School of Public Policy and The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research shows that 71% of Americans say gun laws should be stricter.” And yet, our safety concerns are constantly pitted against our cultural aversion to regulation and insistence on individual entitlement to self-defense by any measure. Guns, like pit bulls, evoke a mutual vitriol that drowns out our common values and stymies progress toward shared goals.

Ironically, a gunshot to the face of a charging pit bull in the split second before it reaches you, is about the only thing that will stop it. But allowing two dangerous weapons to stalk our streets instead of just one isn’t a personal or a public safety solution. Reasonable citizens must turn down the volume on extremism from both sides. In the case of pit bulls, like guns, we should all lobby for safeguards.

Don’t find out the hard way, like I did, that danger is lurking around every corner. For the sake of your pets, loved ones, and neighbors, as well as for the pit bulls suffering from abuse or in shelters — look up for your state’s dog bite law and advocate for:

· A ban on backyard breeding

· Rescue/shelter regulations

· Owner/adopter screening

· Required precautions, including signage and inviolable private property borders, proper leashes, and muzzles in public

· Public attack reporting mechanisms and a one-strike rule for both dogs and owners/rescuers

SOURCES

The Pit Bull Lobby

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xXVdZUgusc&fbclid=IwAR39zVmW6YuPNMF5rfWowMgEevElzbUHZHKf1q0OOXyWFlkMnkfr23nyhW0_aem_AeGS0zv9QsPXzOMOdSriNNTw4FfSzTAYrA2BSmfyAxStpYZrgNmQ0qAO7azueuPvQqChQyRb2gmWqhc9h7I97rRW

National Canine Research Council

https://nationalcanineresearchcouncil.com/injurious-dog-bites/dog-bite-related-fatalities/

Dogs Bite

https://www.dogsbite.org