Some of my best friends are pit bulls

One of the things I love most about pit bulls is that they surprise us in so many ways. Most of all, they surprise people who think that dogs who look like pit bulls are vicious and anti-social. They challenge the stereotypes simply by being individuals, by showing the same range of variations as all dogs. Turns out they’re just dogs – not monsters, not killing machines – just dogs. Maybe a little wigglier than average, but isn’t that a good thing?

The gap between the stereotype and the real dog is why people who adopt pit bulls often become such strong advocates for them. This is why there are so many amazing pit bull advocacy groups. Lots of folks love Golden Retrievers, but no one needs to go to bat for them. They’re not banned in many cities and killed in many shelters because of the way they look. Pit bulls are just as lovable, and they need us so much more.

While pit bull advocacy groups vary a great deal, they share a constant refrain: we have to counter, publicly and repeatedly, the prejudices that make people think that they know all about a dog because of the way he or she looks. They remind us, again and again, that “Dogs are individuals” and that “Stereotypes victimize.”

Obviously, stereotypes victimize not just dogs but also people, including people with pit bulls. One of the reasons these dogs are feared, hated, and attacked even more than other types of dogs labeled “dangerous” is because pit bulls, unlike German Shepherds, Dobermans, or Rottweilers, are strongly associated with working class and poor people. Thus the folks at PETA say that “nice people don’t go to the shelter to adopt pit bulls.” What they mean is that middle-class white people don’t go to the shelter to adopt pit bulls.



But it happens: some “nice people” go against expectations and adopt short haired, muscular dogs with big jaws. We fall head over heels in love with them. We are surprised and hurt and angry when people tell us that our dogs are scary or that we must be brave (i.e., stupid) to have one of those dogs in the house with our children. We fight back by telling the world that our dogs do not fulfill the stereotypes. We believe, in the words of another great BAD RAP slogan, that “my dog will change your mind.”

Loving pit bulls is not just about changing other people’s minds. They can help us enter a world in which people surprise us too. Some not so nice looking people love their dogs and want to do right by them. Their version of “right” may not be the same as ours, and we may feel very strongly that they are wrong. Sometimes, as Donna Reynolds of BAD RAP puts it, “We have to put blame and judgement aside and value the bond every pet owner deserves to have with his pet, even if he has to make decisions that more privileged dog owners might disagree with” (http://badrap-blog.blogspot.com/2011/11/grateful-for-everyone-who-steps-outside.html)

There are a lot of good lives for a dog, as for a person. Not even the people who look like us treat their dogs exactly as we would. We disagree about a lot of things – are crates a good idea, should dogs be allowed to sleep on the sofa or eat people food, should we go to dog parks, what training methods to use, do dogs even need training, and much more. The vast majority of the differences fall happily onto the continuum of “various things done by good people who love their dogs.”

This doesn’t mean anything goes. But when we believe change is necessary, are we helping make it possible?

Dogs Deserve Better is dedicated to bringing dogs off chains and into the heart of family life. DDB sometimes removes dogs from their current homes, with legal support if necessary. However, they always try first to educate the family about why chaining is bad for dogs and people. And they provide support – fence building, education about house training and crating – to make make positive changes possible. Surprisingly often, it works. Some former dog-chainers have even become DDB volunteers, helping teach others that there’s a better way.

BAD RAP offers vaccination and spay/neuter clinics in low-income neighborhoods. People line up hours early to get a place in these clinics.

That’s what social change looks like. It requires so much -- expanding the pool of people who adopt rather than buy; who adopt pit bulls, or black dogs, or big dogs, or old dogs; who train their dogs rather than abandon them when the going gets tough. It also requires us to help, rather than just judge, people want to do right by their dogs but may not know better or, even if they do, may not have the resources to make changes.

We are lucky to have had our minds and hearts altered by some amazing dogs. We are lucky to have great examples of ways to make social change. And we are lucky to have a great community of people trying to make life better for more animals.