Pain, Suffering, and Pit Bulls

Do you remember Brin? (If not, refresh your memory here and here.) Brin is a pit bull mix, although he is an absolute sweety who loves nothing more than curling up on the couch with a cat, dog, or human. He also got out of the house several weeks ago (while my mom was at work, and under rather bizarre circumstances), and while he was out, a neighbor fell off his bicycle, hurt himself, and called 911. By the time the Sheriff’s department and Animal Control showed up, Brin had mysteriously disappeared. He was gone for two weeks. We’d given him up for dead.

The neighbor, meanwhile, was walking about the next day. He told my mom that he was fine, and that it had been his fault; he had run into the dog with the bike, and had then fallen over.

This neighbor also has schizophrenia. And – we found out last Friday – this neighbor is now attempting to sue my mother for “pain and suffering” caused when Brin “attacked” him. After he said he had hit the dog with his bike. Yeah. We should be suing him for the pain and suffering his bike caused to our dog, and to us during the two weeks that Brin was missing.

Brin, back in his home.

Meanwhile, because we obviously needed more dogs in general – and more pit bulls in particular – mom and I picked up another pit on Saturday. Given the lack of functional animal control in our neck of the woods (and the fact that so many people seem irrationally opposed to spaying and neutering around here), the stray animal population around here is absurd. I could easily have added about 5 more cats and dogs (each) to my household just in the past few days without even trying very hard. Knowing that I’ll be moving in a few months to a place where I’ll be restricted to two pets (Charlie and Mochi) and not wanting to leave my mom with more than she already has, I’ve restrained myself (although I have fed some strays on my front porch). At least in the city there is the small hope that someone will take them in or put out food. Where mom and I were on Saturday morning – the middle of absolute nowhere, surrounded by nothing but planted pines – there wasn’t much hope that someone else would come along to take responsibility for the gargantuan injured pit bull that came loping down the road towards our car.

I opened the car door, and he hopped right in and began licking my mom in the face. Mom blames me for opening the car door. I like to point out that she was the one who had stopped the car in the first place. As a result, we now have (in addition to two pits, two shepherds, a hound, Mochi, and three little Mochi-sized canines), a gigantic pit, who had either been a fighter or a hog hunter. I’m hoping he was a hog-dog, as that will make dealing with him in conjunction with the rest of our beasts substantially easier. We drove him directly to the vet to get patched up and neutered. Unfortunately, he tested positive for heartworms, which we'll be treating beginning today with Ivermectin - hopefully he'll make it. He shows absolutely no dog aggression (at least not when he met Mochi). I'm keeping him out back, though, because Brin is the only big dog I'll ever trust around my cats. However, since I'll be moving in a few months, I need to find a home for the gargantuan beast (whom I'm calling Viktor, and which must be pronounced with a thick Russian accent) - so if you're in the southeastern US and interested, let me know!

Viktor at the vet
Viktor at home
Once he fills out, he's going to be quite a behemoth!