Friday, March 27, 2009

What you make 'em

The first couple of girls I'd passed on the midway that night also suggested she was a pit bull but denial blinded me to the possibility of it that first time. They had to be wrong. I decided this in a most friendly way and kept moving.

This woman though, she knew what she was talking about. I could hear it in her voice. Those few moments slowed way down in my head, like when you realize that you're about to skid off the road and there's nothing you can do about it except hold on. I asked if she minded if I sat down at the table and she motioned to the chair.

"Jesus," I said, "are you sure she's a pit bull?"


"So tell me what do I need to know about raising a pit bull," My own words echoed in my ears but hers didn't.

"They're what you make 'em," she said. She took a long drink from the beer and I found myself wishing for one too. "What else?" I asked. "I'm sorry I'm interrupting your dinner, but I have to know by tomorrow afternoon." She didn't seem to mind.

"Females are more easy-going than males are," she said, "and well, you might have to beat that dog once or twice" (I think I momentarily repressed a full-on head-bouncing-off-asphalt faint here), "just with a newspaper though," she added - "but once you've got her attention, she can be the best dog in the world so long as you don't tie her up in the backyard and walk away."

No problemo.

I thanked her and she wished me luck. The dog and I continued on, down the backside of the midway toward her truck which had been parked mostly behind the Starship 3000 for this last twelve days. I think Stephanie tied her back up when we returned as my head was still swimming in the fog of reality and my newly discovered prejudice.

Just the moment I start feeling all proud of myself in the ethics and morality department, a new prejudice, that I am completely ignorant of in myself, comes home to roost. Despite the fact that I felt completely ready to be a dog owner, never in a million years would I have gone off in search of a pet pit bull. Never.

N.E.V.E.R. And now I had one. The first dog of my adult life. Pit bull.

I've chosen to believe, looking back on it, that God was playing a little trick on me, not to mention my cat Gigi.

Stephanie and the puppy; Sunday afternoon

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