adopt a pit bull – aliciajoseph

Phil, My Baby

Despite my constant intention to be more consistent with this blog, (do people even read blogs anymore?) the months soared with not a word written. As the year comes to a wrap, I have neglected not just my blog writing but also my author writing.

Life got chaotic. A sick dog. An unexpected stay by a family member and her dog. Two dogs-one old and sick. The other-healthy but anxious. A young, fearful, and unpredictable dog can be as stressful as a dog who barks in the night to be cared for.

Phil’s illness started in March. Coughing and wheezing through the night, with a very congested nose. A vet appointment resulted in an upper respiratory infection. Antibiotics cured the infection but not the overly snotty (sorry, will be writing about snots a lot) nose. That got worse.

More medication with an antihistamine. Wait for two to three weeks. Nothing. Then stronger meds. Wait more weeks. Still, nothing. My poor baby could barely breathe. Through the night he’d struggle to hock the phlegm free from his nose. I’d be there with tissue to pull the yellow mucous from his nose, stringy and thick like a pulled mozzarella stick (gross but true) from his nostrils.

This went on for months. I kept tissues all over the house to be ready for the boogers. There were plenty.

After another vet appointment, we tried steroids. With a concoction of prednisone, an antibiotic, and five Benadryl tablets a day, Phil could finally breathe easy. After about three months of sleepless nights, Phil and I were finally able to get some sleep.

As is often the case with prednisone, (I know from experience) the drug may ease the intended health issue, but it also causes harsh symptoms of its own. Phil’s back legs grew weaker. Being fifteen, they weren’t strong to begin with. He could no longer climb stairs and needed help getting up. Even with no-slip booties, he has difficulty walking.

The steroids gave him an insatiable thirst and appetite. He was unable to be calm, constantly panting and pacing. I no longer recognized my dog. While the old Phil would lick me all over the face, the sick Phil turned his head from me. I understood the changes he was going through, (I had the same side effects) but he didn’t.

A month later, I called the vet and told him we needed to wean Phil off those crazy pills. His legs slowly got stronger. He still can’t do stairs and a couple of times when the gate wasn’t up, he tried to go downstairs and fell the entire way down. I hurried to him (cursing myself for forgetting to put the gate back up) and plucked him back to his feet. The old dog shook himself off and slowly walked around the entire basement, taking in what used to be his territory.

Since he was already down there, I lifted him onto the couch. We cuddled together like we used to all of those years–14 years (he was two when I adopted him). He misses his basement. That is where we spent the most time together. It’s where we slept and spent lazy days/nights on the couch. It’s where he stood/ lay next to me on the floor while I did yoga–giving me kisses at every opportunity. Sometimes, he’d lie so close to me that his seventy-pound body pressed against mine and I couldn’t move to do yoga or any exercise.

But that’s where he always wanted to be–next to me.

There’s so much I already miss about him. He was a lazy, calm, loving dog that I used to have to wake up at ten because he’d sleep till noon if I’d let him.

Now he wakes up at six with a bark. If he needs me at night, he barks. Sometimes he barks throughout the day just as he lying on his blanket, not seeming to need anything. Except, for a little attention.

It’s a strange feeling, missing your dog while he’s still alive.

I’m missing the way he used to be. The way we used to be together. I didn’t think time would ever change our relationship. But the dynamics of a relationship never lasts for anyone/thing. Not for siblings. Not for parents. Not for friends. Not for lovers. Not even for dogs and their owners.

Everything changes.

I know I just spent my last Thanksgiving with him, and this Christmas will also be Phil’s last. I adopted Phil from Animal Care and Control on December 26,2010. He is a Pitbull mix. Not the type of dog that usually makes its way out of Animal Control with a beating heart.

Five months ago, I didn’t think he’d be alive come Labor Day. Now I have hope he will be with me to celebrate his 14th Gotcha Day with me. Last year, we had a huge birthday party for him. I turned a post-Christmas party with my siblings, nieces, and nephews into a huge birthday celebration.

We had birthday decorations, birthday hats, a birthday cake, and, of course, a birthday song. I’m glad I did that last year. I don’t think my sixteen-year-old doggie will be up for all that commotion this time around the sun. Though, I don’t think he’d mind a birthday cake.

So, Phil is not the same. He barks a lot. He wakes me up at all times of the night/morning. I am sometimes impatient though I try not to be. One day I will miss that bark. I will hear his bark only in my dreams and will wake up hoping it is real, expecting to see him. Then reality will set in. My dog is no longer here. How will I take that?

I don’t yet know. My dog is still here. Upstairs. Sleeping quietly, for now. I will go to him and kiss the top of his nose. Smell is fur. Hold him in my arms. Tonight, I will hear his bark. And no matter how tired I am, I won’t get frustrated, because I’ll remember a time will come when the bark I hear will no longer be real.

Rogue Gets Adopted!

There’s nothing better for an animal shelter volunteer than seeing a long-term resident find his/her furever home. A loud and chaotic shelter is no place to call home, though it is better than the streets. The dogs get warmth from the cold, daily meals, and medical attention. Still, there’s nothing like having a family to take you in and love you as their own.

This past weekend, Rogue, a pit bull mix who’d been at the shelter for over six months, finally got his chance to know what it means to be a member of a family. It’s fitting that Rogue’s new name is Chance because he’s getting the chance not all homeless pets get, especially pit bulls. That’s what makes this adoption extra special.

Rogue sleeping in his new bed, in his new home.

Pit bulls are the most likely dogs to be killed in shelters because of the unfair and discriminatory stigma placed against them. But Rogue, as well as my pit bull baby, Phil, are loving and loyal dogs who deserve to be saved, too.

Whenever a dog that I spent extra time with at the shelter gets adopted, I move on to another one, because there is always another dog in a kennel, waiting for a home.

Will there ever come a time when a homeless dog will be adopted and he/she will be the last one? And that all the other kennels in the country will be empty? Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but maybe not as much as you may think.

According to Statista.com, over 63 million households in the U.S own at least one dog. That more than covers the approximately 6.5 million companion animals that, per ASPCA, enter U.S animal shelters every year. The more people who choose to adopt over breeders and pet stores, the less animals would be killed. It’s an easy concept to understand, yet so many people still don’t get it.

In the meantime, the lucky ones like Rogue will enjoy their new lives and their second chance at life.

Rogue, A Shelter Dog

I volunteer at an animal shelter, so I’m obviously a big advocate for adopting over shopping for a pet. There are millions of loving animals who need homes. And since I have a pit bull mix who is the sweetest hunk of love you’ll ever meet, I, of course, advocate for pit bulls.

Don’t believe everything you read or hear about this misunderstood and misrepresented breed of dog. Pit bulls make wonderful companion dogs. They love their humans and are very protective of them. They’re goofy. Love to cuddle while licking your face off. You’ll never be lonely because they follow you everywhere you go.

There’s a pit bull mix at the shelter who I’ve been spending some extra time with. He’s going to be a great dog for the person who decides to take him home. I’ve been working on commands with him, though he gets impatient after a while because when he’s in the play yards, he’d rather play. His name’s Rogue. He’s young and has a lot of energy to exert.

We go on walks. He’s a great walking partner, although recently he got spooked by some Halloween decorations. It was quite funny. We were walking along the sidewalk and then he just came to a dead stop. I didn’t at first know why he had stopped. I looked down at him, and he was staring at something behind me.

On the front lawn of a house were huge blown-up Halloween decorations. One was of a Frankenstein-like monster and the other was of a huge black cat with a moving head. I’m pretty sure this was the one that stopped Rogue in his tracks. The cat was in attack position.

Rogue wouldn’t budge when I tried to tug him forward. But I couldn’t blame him. If I were a dog who didn’t know what the heck Halloween decorations were, I’d be terrified too of something that looked like a giant cat. So we walked across the street and continued on with our walk.

Rogue was happy because we didn’t see anymore scary Halloween decorations.

If you’re looking for a pet, please consider visiting your local animal shelter. And while you’re there, please don’t pass up a dog just because it’s labeled a pit bull.

My Shelter Dogs

The animal shelter I volunteer at has a program called, The Buddy Program, where during non-shift hours volunteers can buddy up with a dog and take that dog for car rides, walks to parks, or give them just some extra time playing in yards. This program is especially beneficial to the dogs who have been at the shelter a long time, or the dogs who have behavioral issues and need some extra training.

I enjoy the buddy program and have adored the bond I have created with the dogs I have buddied up with.

This is Sevvy. She was at the shelter for over two years. She was my buddy. She loved car rides and trips through the drive thru for cheese burgers (no onions or pickles) and vanilla ice cream. This girl has finally found her furever home and I hear she gets car rides to parks every day (weather permitting) and I couldn’t be happier for her. Sevvy doesn’t live far from me and it is my hope that one day I will run into her.

Gypsy was a sweet pit bull with the most gorgeous clear eyes. She loved snuggling with her blankets in her kennel. Whenever she’d see me walk into the shelter, she’d raise her front paws onto the chain link and wait for me to come to her. I’d pet her through the fence and she’d try to clasp onto my arms and lick my face. She was a snuggler that was finally adopted after two years.

Rupert was a brindle boxer mix that spent around a year or so at the shelter. He was a typical boxer in his crazy and fun (unruly at times) demeanor. He came to the shelter as just a young untrained boxer who wanted to do nothing but run and jump and chew and tug on everything, especially your sleeves. He needed a lot of extra training. He became my buddy and I took him to a lot of training sessions. The progress was slow but steady, and eventually Rupert calmed down and he was adopted last year. I’m so happy for him. I ran into Rupert at an event for the shelter last summer and it was so awesome to get dog kisses from him and know that he remembered me.

Sable was my first buddy, and as they say, you never forget your first. I was a couple months at the shelter when I took her on as a buddy. I was still getting used to being around a lot of dogs at once, mostly highly stressed dogs who were very unsure of me. I’ve learned some dogs will take to you quickly while others, pending on how they were treated in their past, take some time. Sable was a dog who I just loved the moment I saw her and she showed no reservations toward me. We simply took to each other from the start. She was a sweetheart and she became my buddy. I spent extra time with her in the play yards and it got to the point where every time I’d walk in the shelter, even during my regular shifts, she’d jump up and stand in front of her door, waiting for the guillotine door to open. I always felt so bad because she couldn’t understand that I was there to clean the kennels, not take her out to play. So she’d just watch me with perked ears, waiting for me to walk to her dog run and open the door.

When I got word she was adopted after many months of loving my time with her, I went and said goodbye to her. I brought with me a bag of treats for the family to take and sat with her in her dog run and cried. It was my first goodbye with a dog from the shelter that I had grown attached to, so I was a bit emotional. I handle these things better now. I still cry, but they’re happy tears now.

I once asked a man who’s been at the shelter over twenty years how he handles saying goodbye to long-term dogs. He responded, “It’s like sending your kids off to college. You know they’re on to better things.”

Very good way to put it. That’s what every volunteer at a shelter hopes for. That every animal that leaves finds a better life. I’m grateful that I volunteer at a no-kill shelter and know all the animals there will get all the time they need to find a home. Dogs in kill shelters sometimes only get days.

If you’re looking for a pet, please consider you local animal shelter. If there’s a high-kill shelter near you, visit that one first. A dog’s life is running out somewhere.

Pictures I Think a Lot of Us Need Right Now

I sat down with my laptop tonight, unsure what I should write about. The first thing that popped in my head was Donald Trump, because every day we are bombarded with wild headlines about a corrupt president who is using the U.S government to do his personal bidding. These certainly are crazy times, and I wonder in decades to come the questions people who weren’t “lucky” enough to live during this messed-up, chaotic time will ask those of us who did. I hope I have good answers like, “Yes, Donald Trump did all of those criminal things and that’s why he went to jail and stayed there until the day he died.”

But we don’t yet know how this will all end. (Oh please, please, please let me be right about the jail thing!) But if you’re paying attention, you’re probably feeling anxious, stressed, angry, frustrated, hopeless, and maybe more. I know I am. Luckily, I have a very cute dog with the best poses who even if it’s just for a minute or two, can ease my mind of all toxic thoughts and make me smile.

So for anyone who may need this, here are some of my favorite calming photos of my goofy little baby, Phil. I hope it helps you as it has helped me.

Bella Goes To the Park

I recently took Bella, a pit bull at the animal shelter I volunteer, to the park. It was a gorgeous day, and she deserved a reprieve from the mostly noisy and crowded shelter for a little while.

I’ve been spending some extra time with her for the last few months, so every time she sees me walking through the shelter, she goes to the front of the kennel and stares curiously at me, with a tilt of her head, because she thinks I’m taking it her out.

A fellow volunteer once commented that “when Bella looks at you, it’s like she’s looking at your soul.” I knew what she meant. Bella just has those soulful eyes.

Bella 4

Usually, I walk Bella to a park close to the shelter, but this week I decided to take her for a car ride to a park she’s never been before. Lots of new scents! As we walked out of the shelter, the wag of her hard tail quickened when she realized she was going for a car ride. I rolled the windows down just enough for her to squeeze her boxy head out and feel the wind at her face. When I caught her trying to climb out the window, I abruptly closed the windows. No shelter dogs jumping out of moving cars on my time.

Bella 2

I parked the car, and since I was warned by the director of the shelter that Bella excitedly darts out of cars when taking her out, I proceeded cautiously. Bella, however, waited patiently as I hooked her up to a leash. Once out of the car, she was anxious to get to know this new place.

It’s always so wonderful to watch shelter dogs enjoying their time away from the stressful kennels. Bella sniffed the trees, ate some grass, watched curiously every person we passed, and acted a little too reactively to a dog. But once I got her back into a heel, she found her serenity. She didn’t tweak at all when we passed a group of about 15 geese just five feet away from the trail we walked. Bella was definitely intrigued by the feathered animals, but she seemed happy to pass them by.

Bella liked waking close to the water. She kept looking out over the water. I didn’t blame her. It was a beautiful view.

Bella 3

I will aim to take her for a car ride once a week and get her back to this park she seemed to love so much. My hope is that someday soon it will be her own family taking her for car rides and visiting her favorite park. Until then, I’ll love her like she’s mine.

Bella is a pit bull, and that usually automatically means that she’s going to have a tougher time finding a home. That’s definitely been true in her case, because she’s just too sweet of a dog to have been at the shelter for as long as she has. Pit bulls not only have to overcome the stigma attached to the breed, but they also have to endure the many city bans against the breed, as well as landlords who won’t rent to pit bull owners, and insurers that won’t insure properties with the breed.

These are the obstacles these loving dogs have to face while trying to find homes. Is it any wonder why most pit bulls don’t make it out of shelters alive? If you’re looking for a dog, please give the pit bull/pit bull mix sitting in a kennel at your local shelter a chance. Their time most likely is running out.

Please support your local animal shelter. Donate. Volunteer. Adopt. Foster.

Adopt a Rescue Dog

Two weeks ago I was given news I had spent years asking the universe for. Sevvy, a dog that had lived over two years at the shelter I volunteer at, was finally adopted. We’ve had some teases before of pending adoptions that never went through, but finally it seems that Sevvy has found her home.

Sevvy is a five-year old pit-bull mix who had been adopted from the shelter as a puppy, but brought back, adopted out again, and then returned again when she became possessive of her toys with the children in the house.

Finally, after two long years, Sevvy has found a home, and I hope she never steps foot in the shelter again. As much I love and miss her, I hope to never see her face again, except through a chance meeting at a park somewhere. It would be wonderful to run into Sevvy and see her enjoying life on the “outside.”

There are so many loving animals in shelters all over the country like Sevvy who are great dogs, but have been let down by humans. I don’t know if the couple who rescued Sevvy really understand the importance of what they did. Sevvy was taking anti-anxiety medication because life in a shelter is chaotic and loud and unsettling. Sevvy was showing signs of distress that only medication could help. Hopefully Sevvy doesn’t have to take anti-anxiety medications anymore.

If you’re looking for a pet, please visit your local animal shelter or animal control facilities. There may be an anxiety-ridden dog there like Sevvy who desperately wants to get off her meds.

Victor

Last week I went to the animal shelter I volunteer at and was meant with tragic news. A dog that had been with us for over a year had died some time during the night. The news was devastating, but not shocking. Victor had been going through medical issues for a while. The shelter had been asking volunteers for months if anyone would take him in an a permanent foster so that he could live out whatever life he had left in the comfort of a home. The problem was that Victor needed to be in a home with no other pets. Most volunteers, like myself, have pets at home.

It was sad to watch Victor spend his days in a loud and crowded shelter. It’s a stressing place to be. No place for any dog, let alone a sick, older guy. He was nine. He had come to the shelter when he was eight. The circumstances to how he ended up with us are not fair at all. Victor had been living a good life with his owner on property the owner managed. Then a new landlord came in, took one look at Victor (an American Bulldog) and said that dog’s got to go. Suddenly Victor found himself in a shelter where he stayed until the day he died.

Victor didn’t bite anyone. He didn’t attack anyone. He did no harm. Yet, still he got locked up. That’s what a shelter is to a dog. Even shelters like mine, who treat their animals with loving care and give them all the medical attention they need, are still prisons to these dogs. Shelters are not supposed to be permanent homes, but way too often, too many dogs die there. Either naturally due to medical/age reasons. Or by euthanasia because there is juts not enough space for all of them.

But there would be if more people got involved to help with this overpopulation epidemic this country has. I saw a picture on social media last week of a line of people waiting to foster dogs before hurricane Florence came. My first thought was, where are all these people when local shelters and animals controls have to kill dogs for lack of room? Why is the thought of a dog dying in a hurricane so much worse than a dogs getting a needle or the gas chamber that people flocked to line up to take these dogs in? I’m glad they did, but where are they all the other times a dog’s life is in danger, which is every day?

Maybe because there’s more hoopla with a hurricane. People feel like they’re doing a bigger deed when they foster or adopt a “hurricane dog” as opposed to just a regular dog from the local shelter. I remember when Hurricane Harvey happened and many local shelters, including my own, took in many of those dogs left abandoned and people came out in droves to help out.

Again, it’s great that they do that, but where are they when dogs are killed every single day? It is beyond frustrating. You’re not a bigger hero when you save a hurricane dog as opposed to a dog sitting in a kennel with the clock ticking against it. Most dogs run out of time. Maybe shelters have to be more vocal about what will happen to these dogs if they don’t get out. The shelter I volunteer at is no-kill. I have that luxury of knowing the dogs I come to love, like I did Victor, will get all the time they need to find a home. But they’re still racing against the clock because the older a dog gets, the less likely a person will adopt them. And as in Victor’s case, sometimes your health takes you before you find a home.

Victor deserved better than taking his last breath alone in a kennel. He deserved to be in a comfy bed or snuggled on the couch with his human who loved him, but he was cruelly taken away from his human. He just wanted a home with a bed and lots of hugs and kisses.These breed-specific-laws and breed discrimination has to end. Victor wasn’t a danger to anyone. He was a shelter favorite.

Victor was a goofy, gentle, and playful dog, despite the pain his condition put him through. Make no mistake, Victor was loved where he was. It’s hard seeing his kennel empty and will be even harder to see his kennel with another dog in it because for over a year I have been used to seeing his beautiful face. Miss you. Love you.

If you’re looking for a pet, please visit your local shelter. Please don’t go to breeders or pet stores while shelter animals die.

Why You Should Adopt Your Next Pet

I write a lot about shelter animals on this blog. They’ve been a passion of mine since I rescued my pit bull mix, Phil, from my local Animal Control facility seven years ago and started volunteering at my local humane society. I advocate for people to get their pets from shelters, as opposed to pet stores or breeders, because I’ve seen first hand the many dogs in need of homes.

Human failure is usually the reason these innocent babies end up in shelters and the reason for these dogs’ pain, so humans should be the reason they are saved. We owe them that.

For every scared dog, there is a human who brought fear into its life.

For every dog needy for attention, there is a human who never showed it affection.

For every dog emaciated, there is a human who let it starve.

The place I got Phil is an open, public facility. They have room to house 300 dogs, and last week they sent out an SOS all over social media that they are full, and they put out a list of super urgent dogs–dogs that are days or even hours away from being killed.

Last month, this facility was in the same situation they’re in now. They were full and begging for people to adopt or foster their dogs. The public came through, and there was a record number of adoptions for January.

Lots of dogs were saved.

But then February crashed the party and adoptions slowed, while the line of people surrendering their dogs to the facility splayed out the door. If eleven dogs were adopted, twenty-nine were left at the shelter by their owner.

This is another way humans fail these dogs–they give them up. Shelters are filled with animals people no longer want. The most common reason is the dogs’ families no longer have time for them.

It’s heartbreaking because after a life of living in a home, these dogs are left in a stressful, crowded place, filled with barking dogs. These confused dogs have no idea what is happening or why they are there.

Some dogs simply shutdown.

I’ve been monitoring the Animal Control’s Facebook Page to keep up with the status of the most urgent dogs, and it seems I’m not the only one. There is an entire community of people networking for these dogs. It’s so inspiring to see and gives me so much hope that more people are seeing that dogs in shelters are not broken, and they are deserving of a home.

Millions of dogs are killed every year. Please adopt your next pet. If financial reason are keeping you from adopting, please consider fostering. Shelters and rescues pay all expenses. If you’re concerned about getting attached to a dog and then having to say goodbye, I understand. I’ve considered that, too. But I decided my temporary heartbreak is worth saving a life. If fostering isn’t an option for you, volunteer at your local shelter, or support them by donating.

Phil wants the rest of his furry friends to find their furever homes, too.

Screenshot_20180226-224748

Adopt a Shelter Pet Day

I can always tell when I’ve dove head first into writing a current book — I forget all about my blog. Even though one of my New Year’s resolutions was to write two blogs a week. Not an unreachable goal. When I set that target, I wasn’t trying to set myself up for failure. It was meant to be easily attainable, yet, here I am. Three weeks since my last blog. I’d ask for a raise of hands from all those who have missed me, but one should never set themselves up for disappointment. Haha.

The writing schedule I have set for myself for the year, is moving along nicely. I have finished the first book of a series I was working on at the start of the year. A novella about friendship and betrayal.

I’ve switched to a story I started writing in college. It was a short story set in the 1950’s about a girl who lives with her aunt and her abusive uncle. I’ve revised the book, Annabel, from a short story into a now 62,000 word novel. Lots of revision is needed, but I’m excited about writing this piece. It’s a break from the lesbian-themed stories I’ve been writing, as this story has no gay characters.

At least, not yet. A writer sometimes doesn’t know where her story will take her. I love that about writing.

I’ve tossed in the writing towel for tonight. My pit bull snores softly beside me on the bed. He’s always right beside me. My loyal sidekick.

Today was Adopt a Shelter Pet Day. I rescued Phil from animal control, a kill shelter. He’s an amazingly sweet dog who definitely deserved to live, like so many dogs, especially pit bulls, who have been killed because homes weren’t found in time. I have become an annoying preacher to my friends against buying dogs from breeders and pet stores, as thousands of loving animals die every day in shelters. I don’t care. I’ll deal with their rolling eyes, and if I’m unfollowed on Facebook because of posts also preaching about adopting over shopping, I’ll survive just fine.

The statistic is that only 1 of every 600 pit bulls will make it out of a shelter alive. Over a million will be euthanized by the end of this year. Pit bulls are the most bred breed of dog. They are also the highest to be euthanized. If you breed a pit bull, you are nothing but an asshole. Period.

My plea to anyone who will listen is to not only adopt their next pet, but adopt a pittie. Pit bulls are great dogs. They don’t deserve to die in crowded shelters.