I've had this puppy off and on since I rescued him in January. When I got him he was a mangy, wormy, half dead dog. He had no hair, except for a blue patch on his back. We named him Blue, and his litter mate Queenie. They were found on the side of the road when they were barely four weeks old. I was out riding and wa cantering along, when Mama and pups crossed in front of me. One of the pups was crushed and Mama was badly injured, they didn't survive long enough to get to the vet. The other two were givin a week, and he offered to put them down for 5 dollars a piece. I said no, I'm going to give them a chance.
That was eight months ago. Now Queenie and Blue weigh 60 lbs each, and had settled in to their new homes. Blues new Mama had a baby and felt he wasn't getting enough attention so she begged me to take him back, I gladly did. These dogs are no less than pure bully, maybe some staffordshire in them somewhere. Mama was black, daddy has been seen on that trail off and on but I've never caught him. They're true red brindles, and gorgeous dogs. BUT. They're bulldogs. Everywhere I go someone tells me I should get rid of that dog, he's a bull dog he will eat you. He's a bull dog he will kill your other dogs. He's a bull dog, hell kill this that or the other. Neither Blue nor Queenie have a mean bone in their body. In fact, the home Queenies in has 5 kids under 7. She allows them to rawl all over her and beat her up. But she's mean, you know. Especially when she licks them in the face that must mean she's tasting them for later.
don't get me started on Blue. He's so mean, he let the chickens crawl over and peck him in the eyes. I mean MAN... He's such a man killer. This morning my Grandpa came to visit and he hasn't seen Blue in ages. First thing out of his mouth, before hello and how are you was "Get rid of that dog Katie. He's a bull dog. He'll kill ya." Uhm, no. That's a stereotpe. I've had three pits in my life, rescued from shelters and bad situations. NONE and I mean NONE of them ever went bad. But every time that's what he said when he walked in... I'm tired of it. It is very upsetting to hear people constantly talking like you are an idiot about YOUR dog.
if he turns on me, guess what... He will be put down. But Blue, who doesn't even bark at strangers (in fact he does the full body wag) is definitely a killer.
That was eight months ago. Now Queenie and Blue weigh 60 lbs each, and had settled in to their new homes. Blues new Mama had a baby and felt he wasn't getting enough attention so she begged me to take him back, I gladly did. These dogs are no less than pure bully, maybe some staffordshire in them somewhere. Mama was black, daddy has been seen on that trail off and on but I've never caught him. They're true red brindles, and gorgeous dogs. BUT. They're bulldogs. Everywhere I go someone tells me I should get rid of that dog, he's a bull dog he will eat you. He's a bull dog he will kill your other dogs. He's a bull dog, hell kill this that or the other. Neither Blue nor Queenie have a mean bone in their body. In fact, the home Queenies in has 5 kids under 7. She allows them to rawl all over her and beat her up. But she's mean, you know. Especially when she licks them in the face that must mean she's tasting them for later.
don't get me started on Blue. He's so mean, he let the chickens crawl over and peck him in the eyes. I mean MAN... He's such a man killer. This morning my Grandpa came to visit and he hasn't seen Blue in ages. First thing out of his mouth, before hello and how are you was "Get rid of that dog Katie. He's a bull dog. He'll kill ya." Uhm, no. That's a stereotpe. I've had three pits in my life, rescued from shelters and bad situations. NONE and I mean NONE of them ever went bad. But every time that's what he said when he walked in... I'm tired of it. It is very upsetting to hear people constantly talking like you are an idiot about YOUR dog.
if he turns on me, guess what... He will be put down. But Blue, who doesn't even bark at strangers (in fact he does the full body wag) is definitely a killer.
