Pit bulls

The truth, at last.

Stop Scaremongering About “Pitbulls” You Lawn Flamingoes
There are many topics guaranteed to start an internet argument faster than politics, pineapple on pizza, or saying the words “pit bull” within earshot of somebody with an X account.

If you announce, “I own a pit bull.” someone will immediately reply, “AWWWW! Is he a velvet hippo?” Another person will dive through a nearby window screaming, “IT HAS LOCKING JAWS! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

I’ve always thought this was weird because pit bulls do not have locking jaws. They have regular jaws. No dog has locking jaws.

The first thing we should understand is that “pit bull” isn’t even a single dog breed. It’s a label applied to several breeds, and, unfortunately, to just about any dog with a blocky head.

This turns out to be a LOT of dogs.

This is why pit bulls are the most misidentified dog breeds. Show people a photo lineup containing Boxers, American bulldogs, Staffordshire bull terriers, Mastiff mixes, and an American Pit Bull Terrier, and many people will confidently identify all of them as pit bulls. This is the equivalent of pointing at every four-door sedan and announcing, “Ah yes. A Toyota.”

No. That’s a Buick.

“Same thing.”

Not even close, dude.

You might see a problem emerging. If people identify every blocky-headed dog as a pit bull, then every time one of those dogs appears in a news story? “Pit Bull Goes on 3 State Rampage!” Except it was a Cane Corso.

THEN there’s the bite-force discussion. “They have the strongest bite of any dog!”

Actually? No. In the top ten dogs with the strongest bite? Pit bulls are generally towards the bottom, like number nine.

Several breeds are capable of stronger bites, including many Mastiffs, Kangals, Cane Corsos, Rottweilers, and German shepherds. Nature has produced a wide variety of dogs that bite with tremendous force if they decide that’s today’s activity. (If you didn’t know, “Cane Corso” is pronounced “khan-aye core-so” Not CANE like sugar cane.)

The good news is that most dogs have much higher priorities, such as:

• Rolling in something disgusting.

• Barking at leaves.

• Convincing you that squirrels represent an existential threat to society.

• Licking their own asshole.

• Sleeping.

Pit bulls are no exception. In fact, a properly trained and socialized pit bull is usually affectionate. Many owners discover they have accidentally purchased a seventy-pound lap dog. The pit bull does not recognize the concept of “personal space.” If you sit down on the couch, the pit bull acts as if you require immediate assistance. Its preferred method of helping is to place 68 pounds of dog directly onto your stomach while looking into your eyes as if to say, “You need attention, so I have brought you my entire body.”

Now, before angry emails arrive from people who know a cousin whose neighbor was bitten by a pit bull, let’s be perfectly clear.

ANY dog can become aggressive and dangerous.

A Chihuahua can become aggressive.

A Golden Retriever can become aggressive.

A Border Collie can become aggressive.

Nobody writes a national news story titled: “Six-Pound Chihuahua Continues Campaign of Mild Inconvenience.”

Responsible dog ownership matters.

Dogs need training.

Dogs need socialization.

Dogs need exercise.

Dogs need boundaries.

Their owners need all of these things, too. Especially boundaries. 253 pictures of your velvet hippo making faces is too many. You need to stop. Owners need to recognize when their individual dog is anxious, or simply doesn’t enjoy meeting strangers. Good owners work with the dog instead of pretending every dog wants hugs. Most dogs actually HATE hugs. The owner’s job is important: keep the dog safe, and keep everyone else safe from the dog. That’s true whether your dog weighs six pounds or one hundred and sixty.

So now is when I insert A VERY IMPORTANT public service announcement.

No dog should EVER be left unsupervised with a young child.

I can hear the keys clicking madly, already. Somewhere, someone is already typing: “MY PRECIOUS SNUGGLEMUFFIN WOULD NEVER...”

That’s wonderful. I’m sure Snugglemuffin is an excellent dog. Small children, however, are tiny chaos goblins.

They hug too hard. They poke eyes. They grab ears. They pull tails. They stare. They crawl into beds and food bowls.

The remarkable thing is not that dogs occasionally object to this behavior. The remarkable thing is that most dogs put up with it for as long as they do.

Children aren’t trying to anger the dog. Dogs generally don’t understand this. A dog doesn’t understand, “Aw, she’s only two.” The dog just knows that a loud primate has tackled it for the fourth time today and is now attempting to inspect its nostrils. That’s why supervision is so important. It’s not because all dogs are dangerous. It’s because all dogs are, in fact... dogs. And all toddlers are, in fact... toddlers. Another important point is that dogs don’t come with dashboard warning lights. Well... actually, they kind of do. Most of us just haven’t read the owner’s manual. Which is why training for humans is important, too. (I’m going to say that a few times so it REALLY sinks in.)

Dogs communicate that they’re uncomfortable long before they bite.

They may avoid eye contact. They may suddenly become fascinated by literally anything else in the room. They may yawn repeatedly even though they’re clearly not tired. They may lick their lips. Or they may give what’s called “whale eye.” where you can suddenly see the whites of their eyes because they’re turning their head while keeping you in view. It’s kind of like sanpaku eyes but for dogs. They’re essentially saying: “I would very much like this situation to stop now.” Unfortunately, many humans interpret these signals as: “Awww! He’s looks so cute!”

No. He looks stressed.

This is why training isn’t just for dogs. It’s for people. A well-trained dog is wonderful. A well-trained owner is even better, because they’re the one who recognizes when their dog is saying, “I’d really appreciate it if that tiny human would stop using my ears as handlebars.”

The trick is learning enough “dog language” to hear them before they escalate to biting.

With that out of the way? The uncomfortable truth is that dogs are individuals.

Some are saints. Some are jerks. Some are both before breakfast.

Breed doesn’t magically determine whether a particular dog is going to spend the afternoon cuddling with toddlers or attempting to steal an entire rotisserie chicken off the kitchen counter. (Actually, that’s a bad example. Pretty much every dog would gobble up the chicken.)

So perhaps the best lesson isn’t “Pit bulls are angels.” or “Pit bulls are monsters.” It’s that dogs deserve to be judged as individuals. Like people, actually.

Owners deserve to be judged as owners. And the internet should probably calm the fuck down.

Although if history has taught us anything, that’s considerably less likely than a pit bull stealing your seat the instant you stand up to get another cup of coffee.

I’ve had pit bulls my whole life; in fact, my very first dog when I was just a wee tyke was a pittie we got as a pupster from the local animal shelter—Heinz, I named him, who even knows how come—and I loved that rough ole boy all to pieces.

Nobody, but NOBODY messed with little Michael Gene when my Heinz was around. I mean, NOBODY. The neighborhood teens who had previously thought it great sport to stop by our front lawn where I was out playing and bullyrag me as they were walking home from high school learned the lesson first, to their own great shock and enhorrorment. Far as I was concerned, the assholes had it coming.

(Via Hoyt)