Life with the Pits

For almost a decade I have been involved with what must be one of the most misunderstood dog breeds there is – the Pit Bull. Also called the American Pit Bull Terrier, Staffordshire Terrier, Pits and so on. To most people a Pit Bull by any other name is still a Pit Bull. They are the subject of numerous negative media reports. These dogs are known to be bred for bloodsports, where one dog is pitted against another in a ring, much like cockfights. The Pit Bulls are made to go at each other until one runs away, or the other can’t fight anymore, or if an owner forfeits the fight. Not wanting to be judgmental about people who enjoy or profit from the sport, I would say nothing more about it than: let barbarians be barbarians. Yes, I have watched a game or two, but those were enough for me to realize that I wouldn’t want to go down that path.

I have been keeping Pit Bulls for almost a decade now. I enjoy the breed because it is very active and they look great. Their humungous heads create a strong impression on people, especially when they peek over the side of my 4x4 pick-up running along the highway or when the Pit Bull stares straight at you while waiting at a stoplight. I have taken my Pits to both my orchards in the cool mountains of Tanay, Rizal and the scorching heat of Balunggao, Pangasinan. Neither high or low temperatures seem to have an effect on any of my Pits.

I’ve always loved dogs from as far back as I can remember. Our family mostly had mongrels around the house. It was only when I was in high school that we – sort of – got our semi-purebred dog. It was a cross between a mongrel and a German Shepherd. It might have been just a cross, but it sure looked like the real thing. Eventually, when I got older I saved enough to get myself purebred dogs.

After college, I got a job as a trader in a universal bank, where I was eventually promoted as a broker and had a sizeable disposable income. I got myself a Rottweiler. However, after two years of waiting for her to be mate-ready, she died of heatstroke. Even if I was heartbroken, I never gave up on dogs. I believe that owning them at such an early age taught me how to care for things, specifically living things. It taught me how to value life and how to love things other than myself.

I got introduced to the world on Pit Bulls when I bought my very first pup. It was amazing. The owner showed me how tough each pup was by holding the six-week-old creature by the tail upside down for about a minute. I brought out my money faster than Jesse James could draw his gun.

I started from there. I joined shows, got into some clubs, made connections, joined competitions and occasionally bred some Pit Bulls. It was with this breed that I learned the ins and outs of breeding dogs: the right time to breed a bitch to a stud, the number of days before a litter is due, how to tell if a pregnant bitch is in distress, how to properly help in the birthing process. I have sucked "goo" from a newborn’s nostrils just to make it breathed right. I have massaged a lifeless pup on the palm of my hand and made it breathe for the first time. Little did I know that it would eventually win numerous awards. I witnessed a caesarian delivery. At one time, I had a little over a dozen Pit Bulls in my kennel.

After years of being with the breed, I have reduced the Pit Bulls in my kennel due to lack of time for my dogs. It was like being Peter Pan accepting that he has to grow up, with a twist. I had to do other things, but I never forgot what kept me young.

Now, I have a couple of Chow-Chows, a Golden Retriever, an American Bulldog and a couple of Basset Hounds scattered between my house and my two orchards. They share the land with my other livestock "loves" such as geese, ducks, turkeys, lovebirds, chickens and water buffaloes.

I have to admit that I had the must fun when I was into Pit Bulls. I made a lot of friends. I was even asked to be president for one of the clubs. However, after a few months, I gave it up. Anyway, even if I’m not really into mainstream dogs anymore – I still love canines.

For what it’s worth, I may smell of dogs occasionally because I really can’t rid myself of the fascination I have for these four-legged companions. When I get home it’s a good feeling to see an ecstatic animal in front of your gate, as if she has been waiting for you all day to come home. They always seem to smile at me when I feel down. I just can’t imagine life with out man’s best friend.

"What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beast, soon happens to man. All things are connected." – Chief Seatle (Duwamish tribe)