"I’m a lifelong lover of dogs, but also a lover of science. I’ve been trained in the biological bases of animal behavior, including the science of behavioral genetics. Dogs are the greatest experiment ever performed in behavioral genetics, representing thousands of years of selection for behavior — selection that makes Pointers point, Retrievers retrieve, Greyhounds chase, and Beagles sniff. So, it always seemed strange to me that Pit Bull advocates claimed that their breed was exempt from any genetically influenced behaviors.
Some years ago, when writing my Encyclopedia of Dog Breeds, I included some cautionary statements about Pit Bull–type breeds under their breed descriptions. I did this with several other breeds that had bad bite, or even fatality, records. The book then went out for review. I was, to put it mildly, attacked by Pit Bull advocates, quick to tell me that Pit Bulls were nanny dogs, all the statistics were rigged, they were far sweeter than any other breed, and so on. The intensity of their response convinced me that my viewpoint was wrong.
So, when I saw two tiny dumped Pit Bull puppies on the road one day, I snatched them up and brought them home to raise like one (or two) of our own. Our friends told us it wasn’t a good idea, that Tuggy and Scooty could harm our other dogs. I scoffed at them, parroting what I’d heard: that Pit Bulls used to be nanny dogs, and it was “all how you raised them.” We raised them like we had raised all our other dogs over the past 40 years — 30 or so dogs in all — with never a serious incident. We shook our heads at how Pit Bulls were misunderstood and the unfairness of how the breed was discriminated against. Tuggy and Scooty were shining examples that it was, indeed, all how you raised them. They became best buddies with one of my other dogs, Luna, and I trusted them implicitly.
One day they all had big new chew bones. Luna decided she should growl possessively at Scooty. And that was all it took. With no warning, not a bark or a growl, not a sign of anger, Scooty jumped on Luna, grabbed her around the neck, and proceeded to choke the life out of her. Tuggy joined in, silently grabbing a back leg and pulling as hard as he could. My mother and I desperately tried to get them off of Luna and pry open their jaws. Luna’s tongue turned blue, she lost consciousness, and let loose her bowels. At that point I knew we had lost her.
You know the worst nightmare you’ve ever had? The one where something horrible is happening to someone you love, but you’re moving in slow-motion, as if you have 50-pound weights on your hands and feet, and you can’t speak or yell because you have no breath? That’s how I felt when I saw Luna getting killed in front of me. You may think you could react well in such a situation and save your dog’s life, but you can’t.
I tried to pry Scooty’s jaws off Luna, but all that got me was my hand bitten clean through (it would later require a $26,000 surgery to repair). Scooty took off running around the house dragging Luna’s lifeless body like a leopard with a dead antelope in a macabre game of keep-away. I tried to think of any weapon I could use, anything that looked like a break stick, but I had nothing because I trusted my Pit Bulls. I trusted what people had told me, and as I result, I was totally unprepared. In desperation, I over-turned a marble table and Scooty finally let go.
I learned a very hard lesson that day: Pit Bull behavior is not, in fact, about how you raise them. I had been duped by people who, in their quest to defend their favorite breed, had given me wrong information and caused me to be overconfident. Had I been better prepared with the facts, chances are, this tragedy could have been prevented. I never would have given the dogs bones together. I never would have trusted them to the extent I had. And I never would have been so unprepared to break them up.
I tell you all this to explain why you won’t just get the standard, sugar-coated, “nanny dog,” “It’s all how you raise them” mantras in this book. I won’t do that to you, to your family (human, canine, and feline alike), or to your Pit Bulls. I refuse to set them, or you, up for failure. I want you to have a great life with your Pit Bull, but to do that you need to fully understand the best, and the worst, this breed has to offer. Because when they are good (and most of them are, most of the time), they are great, but when they’re bad, they can be deadly. If you have a Pit Bull, your job is to understand and accept both sides of the breed, and prepare accordingly."
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Introduction from Pit Bulls For Dummies, 2nd Edition (October 23, 2020) by D. Caroline Coile
