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Here’s a group of rescued dogs, primarily Pit Bull-type dogs, enjoying an early morning Sunday hike at Griffith Park. And they all got along. Imagine that.

Okay. I am asking for courage now. I know that this is a difficult situation, but the bottom line is, we know that everything isn’t always on the “up and up” with the many different sheltering systems. I want to know what you know. I am reaching out. Attn: Shelter staff, volunteers, rescuers, animal control officers, knowledgeable advocates… Please consider what I have to say. I intend to begin doing video exposés centered around some of the horrific things that many of us hear, and that many more of us have no clue about. If YOU, on the inside, see something that you cannot live with then please consider sending your claims (and preferably whatever will document your claims) to whistleblowers@swaylove.org.

Depending on the response I’ll either just start putting together a list of the worst monthly claims and publishing them in a straight forward fashion, or if I receive enough corresponding documentation, will create media serving to reveal whatever it is that’s potentially happening. Long term, many of these things may be used and/or discussed in future video projects put out by me. I’ll likely not publish everything, so don’t feel as though you’re getting ignored if there’s no response from the actual email address. It’s just acting as a dumping station for complaints, and the most awful will be put out there. Preferably I’m looking for documentation or first person accounts regarding treatment of animals, processes, breed discrimination, body rendering information, staff moral, etc.

I absolutely, positively WILL NOT divulge who you are to anyone publicly, unless of course you note that you don’t give a damn. In that case, I salute you harder. But just to address the elephant in the room… I fully understand the dynamics behind why many of you feel as though you cannot speak out. I see the vindictiveness of many of the shelter bosses, or many on the staff, and these realities handcuff good people who genuinely love animals and have immense compassion. If you are a staff member, well, you’re likely in fear of your job. If you are a volunteer, well, you’re likely in fear of your access to the dogs that you love. If you are a rescuer, well, you’re likely in fear of your pull rights being taken away. This list goes on and on. Some of these shelters will aim to do massive harm in order to not have their practices examined by a public who is, for the most part, unaware. Let’s change that together.

This challenge is simple… It’s a call to action for the many people who are not familiar with, or who have a learned opinion about Pit Bulls. Don’t you want to have an opinion that’s genuinely based on some real life experiences? Or are you the type that just accepts hearsay as literal fact? The best answer to your predicament is to simply make an effort to visit your local shelter and meet a few of these daunted Pit Bulls in person. There’s no better facilitator of the truth than the dogs themselves!

Please help Change of Heart Pit Bull Rescue and other advocates in their incredible efforts to assist this poverty stricken couple living in Perris, CA…

It’s a tragic situation that at its core continues to show how inherently good people, regardless of their circumstances, continue to be good people. These 2 individuals, deeply hit by economic hardship and since rendered homeless, have been living for numerous years in a tiny camper with broken windows and a non-functioning door. They are located in a downtrodden area of Perris, California and have been allowing many of the local “stray” dogs to make themselves at home in their environment. Unfortunately, the surrounding area serves as a “prime dumping ground” for people looking to castoff their unwanted animals. This is not an uncommon occurrence. Doubly bad, some of the locals have started poisoning the dogs, already killing 5 of them… There is currently 12 dogs remaining, many that are pittie mixes, including 4 young puppies and a beautiful mother.

These folks collect cans to get money for food, and due to not having a running water supply, have to consistently fill up jugs with water for themselves and the dogs. The nearest store is probably 3 miles away, and it is unclear whether they have an efficient mode of transportation. They have no trash service, no electricity, which means that they are freezing at night. While visiting, Sarah (from COHPBR) noticed that they had no blankets for themselves. She supplied them with a bundle of donated blankets–and the couple, instead of actually using them for themselves, just happily gave them over to the dogs! In the face of all of this, they keep the location as organized as possible and have managed to keep the dogs well fed. They are NOT hoarders. They are NOT pulling dogs and stashing them. They are an elderly couple who are opting to care for the roaming castoffs that literally show up and onto the property that they are living on. There’s a big difference.

Sarah noted how the woman’s hands were “painful looking, cold, cracked, weathered and filthy.” She continued, “She showed so much affection towards these dogs, she talked to them in a kind voice and handled them gently. She was so happy to hear that we would be helping to get them spayed and neutered. She showed nothing but gratitude.” This woman is willing to give all of these dogs to legitimate rescues. She wants the best for all of them… They have no money, but it is beyond clear that they do absolutely care.

COHPBR, due to being full, cannot actually take any of the dogs; but Sarah is actively raising funds and plans to personally transfer each dog, one by one, to her private vet to have them spayed and neutered. She has also set up an Amazon Wish List in order to gather supplies for this couple and their dogs. Please consider donating to either link, or both. All of your donations are tax deductible, as COHPBR is a registered 501(c)3. Any other ideas in regards to helping? Please contact Sarah through cohpitbullrescue@yahoo.com!

Lastly, please do not judge these people. Please help. They are doing everything that they can with the few resources that they do have. Please contact responsible and reliable rescue personnel, and put your heads together with Sarah and the many others that are already trying to help. Animal Control should absolutely NOT be called. They are already trying to get the dogs out, and they would likely just be taken to shelters and unceremoniously killed within days. Please help make this a better situation for all involved, people and dogs.

I’m pretty honored to have Sway featured in the upcoming American Dog Magazine. And it’s amazing to have us featured alongside such wonderful company. Thank you to ADM for the inclusion, is very humbling to say the least. The below issue is their “Spring 2012” run, so I don’t believe it’s available quite yet. Stay tuned!

With one stroke of John Kasich’s pen, Ohio’s statewide Pit Bull stereotyping is no more. House Bill 14, as of just a few hours ago, has been signed into law. This bill removes the statewide language that had been in place for the last 25 years, language automatically labeling all Pit Bulls as “vicious.” Ohio had been the only remaining state in the nation to continue classifying a dog as “vicious” solely by breed and appearance, and not by individual behavior. At last, this crime against common sense has finally been corrected.

Unfortunately the new law will not counteract the breed-specific legislation that numerous local communities (like Cincinnati) have in place. What it does do however is do away with the constant targeting of innocent dogs, as well as enforced regulations that created unjustified hurdles for every Pit Bull guardian in the state. Just as important, it creates precedent and pushes the momentum for justice in the correct direction. Just last year both Cleveland and Toledo ended their BSL ordinances. They’ve since moved to breed-neutral policies that are far more sensible and humane.

Being an Ohioan for the first 24 years of my life, and having Sway for 4 years before we moved out to California, I saw firsthand the kinds of unspoken bigotry and ignorance that these kinds of labels (vicious) produce. These prior determinations caused (and in many areas continue to cause) many wonderful animals to be immediately killed. Those that did find homes with loving humans continued to face barriers created by language, created by a system that made them guilty without a chance to be proven innocent. It was wrong for so long. Me and Sway are very happy to finally say so long to wrong.

Thank you Governor Kasich. Thank you to all of the countless unnamed persons who positively added, in any way, to this long and difficult effort.

I first sat down and started writing this on Christmas morning. I’ll start from there… It’s Christmas day in the year of 2011 and last night was one of the saddest days I’ve endured in a long time. Junior, one of my favorite dogs in the world, ended up being euthanized after an emergency surgery that revealed multiple perforations of his bowel and little to no healthy intestinal tissue that would have allowed the vet to tie it off and attempt to start anew. Instead they found a plethora of foreign objects, many very sharp, lodged and stuck in his system. This realization has left a few of us reeling. The loss. The suddenness of it. The loss mostly, as Junior was one of the finest examples of how the soul of an animal can be well beyond where we are now, in this life. This particular animal was one of the most genuine life’s that I’ve ever crossed paths with. My definition of the word “good” has been redefined just a little bit more, having experienced this creature firsthand. I do miss him so much.

I first saw him many weeks ago at the Carson shelter in Gardena, California. For the month of November I’d been enlisted by an organization to attempt to get profile photographs of every single Pit Bull that came through that particular shelter. This involved me going quite frequently, and for the most part found me there every other day. When I first saw Junior I was immediately taken aback by the kindness of his eyes. He was a red and white bully-type pit-mix, very low to the ground, very friendly, and in what seemed to be very bad physical health. He was extra calm, and he was extra gentle, and he was extra patient. He always sat at the absolute front of the kennel, as close as one could get to the bars, looking out, still. He sat like a human would sit in a chair, his bottom touching the ground, back legs up and extended instead of crouched like a normal dog. How I loved this guy.

Every time I’d return to the shelter he’d be the first and last face that would enter my mind, the first and last kennel I’d check. When you are there photographing an entire shelter of dogs, intending to get every pittie, it can be a demanding task. There is more Pit Bulls at most animal shelters than any other breed or type combined. So you want to, and you try to interact and spend a certain amount of allotted time with each–showing them love, talking to them, petting them, and then trying to get a halfway decent photograph–but I’d always spend the most time at Junior’s kennel.

He’d look up at me with his beautiful eyes and they’d tell me a story of pain and betrayal and being uncertain and confused as to what he had experienced up and to this point in this world. If only he knew that he was the prototype for everything that was genuinely good in this world. I’d think to myself, how does an amazing animal like this find his way here? Who originally had him in their life and opted to let him go? I’d sit, and he’d sit, and he’d show his excitement by getting up and stepping in place. He’d kiss my face when I put it close to the bars. He’d stand still, and even while being completely unsure of everything around him, terrified, he’d trust me. He’d trust anyone. He was the ultimate example of a selfless dog, he was living proof that forgiveness is the best medicine. I have no idea the details of how his life played out up and to that point, but I knew it wasn’t good. This dog deserved the world, and instead likely didn’t know anything of a world free of abandonment and terror, only that of a world void of care and concern.

Well, I wanted to change that. He definitely picked up on who I was, and after a few visits he’d actually run out to greet me at the outer-end of the kennels. He’s a slow and cautious boy. When you look at him you envision him as someone moving in slow motion, so to see him gladly get up and meander out to me was always special. Then the moving on from his kennel was always heartbreaking. His eyes would stay at the very front of the cage, watching you go in another direction. I’ve never seen a dog’s eyes who were more pleading than Junior’s. It was very hard, every time. One day I was there doing a courtesy transport for a dog (Gus) that was from my networking album. He was getting rescued and the rescuer had asked me if I could drive him to their animal hospital. Gus happened to be in the same building as Junior. When it came time for the attendant to get the dog for me they just had me meet him back there with the leash. I ended up having to walk Gus, now free, past Junior’s kennel. Ugh. I immediately thought of what in the world Junior must be thinking. I actually ended up putting the dog in my car and then going back into the shelter to say goodbye to Junior. You try to explain this stuff to them and just hope that they understand. I told him then–and I had told him before that I was trying to get him out–but in that moment I had been even more direct because I was feeling like shit. I told him that I was going to do everything that I could to get him out of there. It was more in my own mind, feeling as though I have to pull out all the stops. If I didn’t I’d regret it, and I’d feel like I’d failed him. He didn’t deserve for another person to fail him ever again.

I think it was that night that I sent out a private email plea to many different rescuers that I’d come to respect and/or trust. I’d only done that once before, as it’s hard not to send out huge plea’s for all of them–as you love each and every dog, and want to see every one of them saved–but if you did that then you’d likely become static on the radio per say… I quickly wrote something up, trying to get across how special I thought Junior was and how he’s affected my life in a certain way that, for whatever reason, went above and beyond. Thankfully a few people got back to me and once I had gotten confirmation that there were willing rescue contacts open to helping, I started to raise some money on his behalf, which would then be donated to the rescue that would eventually commit to his care.

After the framework of a rescue had been laid, I told Junior as much. I’m not sure how he took in the news, but I sure was excited for him. I remained scared to death, as Carson is known for mistakes, confusion, miscommunication and apathy. They demand that all “dominant-breed” dogs pass their highly suspect temperament test, and then we had to wait for almost a full week for them to get around to administering it! Adding to my anxiety was that nothing was happening and within a couple of days I was set to fly back to Ohio to visit my family. Junior was getting sick, had been sick, gotten over it, then gotten sick again. This is one of the unfortunate realities for a shelter dog. I could definitely rant here but am trying to stay on topic… Finally the temperament test results were available. Junior had scored all A’s across the board! This was unheard of for a Carson shelter Pit Bull, as many on the staff are usually so hard and unfair to them during these evaluations. This speaks to Junior’s unmistakeable nature, as even this shelter couldn’t deny it or attempt to tarnish it.

The day that Junior got his freedom from the shelter was one of the great moments from the last year+ that I had been attempting to make a difference for these dogs. I was there photographing the newest impoundees, after which I had the honor of driving Junior away from the facility. It had been arranged that a highly respected rescue in Oregon would be stepping up for Junior and that he would be catching a weekend transport up to his new foster home, with one of their lead members. As soon as that kennel door opened Junior wasn’t sure whether he wanted to come out or not. He was scared of everything. Most of the time, when a dog is scared then that anxiety comes out through other forms of action or visible characteristics. Maybe the dog will shake or cry, maybe they will absolutely avoid, some cower or submit, some act skittish, some may lash out in a protective or fearful manner. Junior did none of those things. Many of those characteristics I just rattled off are perceived as “negative” by the average person. That’s unfair, but let’s just call it how it is. Junior never showed any sign of a demeanor shift, no matter what he was up against or how confused or frightened he was. Another example which speaks so interestingly of his unique character.

The terrified big guy wasn’t too sure about walking his way out of the building, so I had to carry him instead. He’d drop his body weight right to the ground, as to say, “I’m not moving, too scared.” But he was totally fine with you picking him up, the closest version of a teddy bear come to life. We sat outside of the building for a moment while he gave kisses to everyone who was kneeling down to greet him. As I mentioned earlier, his transport didn’t leave until the weekend which meant that he had to be placed into boarding for about 4 days in the mean time… I flew out the next day but instead of taking him right up to the boarding facility I took him home with me instead. He was beyond filthy, and I wanted to give him a bath and let him run freely in a yard. I wanted to show him that I was someone that loved him, try to introduce him to a few human experiences that he may have never gotten, and honestly just get some quality time in with my favorite guy before I left.

During the ride back to my place Junior slowly maneuvered his self around the front seat until he was laying down and his head was placed directly on the top of my hand. Silent, and from a body language standpoint he was completely calm. His eyes however always showed so much uncertainty, like everything he was experiencing was the very first time it was happening to him. I knew that Junior was an “owner surrender,” but it just felt as though he had never been in a car before. Was his first car ride the ride that brought him to the Carson shelter to be dumped? Who knows… These are the types of things that I find myself thinking about. What I do know though is that Junior was always willing and able to overcome whatever trepidation that may have been lingering in his mind. What an amazing trait. The innocence of this beautiful animal broke my heart, to think that 10 minutes ago he was sitting in a jail cell with his life under the gun. In those moments it just hammers the heaviest point home: That these incredible dogs deserve so much better, and that far too many of them never get it.

I did my best to make him feel comfortable and before I knew it we were pulling in the driveway. After carrying him out and into the yard, it was straight into the shower for Mr. Junior. He was dirty beyond belief, and the fleas were having themselves a field day. That was until I went after them with the detachable shower head! Junior just stood still as a statue, occasionally dropping down and refusing to get up. He got 2 baths this night, and when he came out he had some extra bounce to his step. He cautiously made his way around the rooms of our apartment, got placed on the bed and wasn’t too sure what to make of it, and had a little bit of time to trot again around the yard before it got really dark out. Before we left I went out to the garage and pulled out a bin where I keep some of Sway’s old things. I grabbed one of her collars so that I could put it on Junior. It was sentimental, but at the same time empowering. I knew for sure that Sway was going to be looking in on Junior, she could surely feel how much I cared for him. Then like that it was time to drive up to the boarding location…

Had it been any other week of the year, I would have just kept Junior with me until his transport left that upcoming weekend. I’ve done it before, where dogs found themselves in short-term fostering situations with me. So even with my own 2 dogs & our actual foster, I would’ve wanted to make that work the same. The only problem was that I was leaving the very next morning. Timing! With me being gone and my girlfriend’s long hours that idea became unworkable really fast. This was so sad to me, springing Junior, only to have him spend his next few days back in a cage. Obviously it could be worse, but I was constantly worrying about Junior’s psyche. Again, what would he think? I had to quickly get over it, as Junior had many years of freedom to look forward to and that was what should matter most.

I carried Junior inside of the boarding facility and placed him onto the lobby floor. It was late and they were closed to the public and just the secondary staff remained. Junior slumped down, unsure of what was happening, and Dianne and I hugged and kissed him and told him that we loved him and that everything was going to be okay. He wouldn’t walk on his own accord so I had to carry him back into his boarding run. One of the kennel workers followed me. I placed him gently onto his bed and then hovered over him, hugging him and trying to explain and finally kissing him on top of the head. I stood up and I walked out. As I turned the corner I looked over my shoulder to take a last glance at one of my favorite dogs in the world. He had gotten up and was running to catch up to me. The kennel worker essentially shut the run door in Junior’s face. For whatever reason I didn’t stop. I didn’t ask them to re-open the enclosure so that I could say goodbye again. I just kept walking. They were closed and I was essentially being led out so that they could lock up. I should have said something.

The next morning I was on a flight to Ohio. For nearly two weeks I’d be visiting my family for my annual trip home. I’d converse with Junior’s other advocates, Sasha & Sondra, through email. I’d also call the boarding spot and get random updates, and received a somber voicemail one day from the owner stating that Junior was “really messed up.” This was in reference to his overall health. They noted his filmy right eye and his lack of appetite, not to mention that he was still too scared to walk on a leash. It was hard to tell where his easy-going demeanor ended and where his injuries began. What was beyond obvious though was that Junior had been through a lot. I was thrilled days later to hear that Junior had made it safely up to Oregon. Apparently he was such a hit with the transporter that he got to forgo the crate and ride shotgun instead. Sondra sent me an email that first night and echoed each and every detail of Junior’s personality that I had happened to fall in love with. Here’s just a fraction of what she said: “I’ve been doing rescue for 10 years and I seriously have not met a nicer Pit Bull in all of my life.” It’s an unmistakeable thing, to be in the presence of such a special little guy. She got it. She almost immediately had thoughts of eventually wanting to make him a therapy dog. She wished she could’ve just adopted him herself. She saw what I saw in him, so that made me feel wonderful that she loved him so very much.

For the next 2 weeks Junior finally got the opportunity to truly learn how to be a dog. I cannot thank Sondra enough for this… I’d receive reports of how his confidence was being raised with each passing day, about his wonderful interactions with her other dogs, and how he was finally being exposed to the concept of “play.” I’d laugh at her detailing his clumsiness, and my heart was full of literal joy when envisioning him out running on 10 acres with his new doggy-friend. The way that she spoke about him was like reading my own thoughts, so I knew that he was being absolutely treasured up there in Oregon. Days after arriving Sondra got Junior into her veterinarian, and as anticipated, there was a handful of things going on… He had an ulcer in his right eye, an ear infection, a lump on his head, visible muscle atrophy, and the occasional vomiting & loose stool. He received multiple doses of antibiotics and in the face of all that was physically going on with his health (and much that we didn’t yet know), he never let these things dampen his spirits. Junior was a lover, an angel, a pure & gentle soul, a better being than the rest of us.

Sondra called me on Christmas Eve and told me that she was about to walk into the emergency vet. Junior had really taken a turn for the worse and had been vomiting and having uncontrollable diarrhea. That morning his abdomen was visibly swollen and he was crying out in pain. He was severely dehydrated and there was just nothing else to do but take him in. An hour later she left a voicemail on my phone that was extremely difficult… They had completed an X-ray and it was showing all kinds of crap in Junior’s bowels. He was currently on fluids and the vet’s immediate fear was that he may have punctured his intestine. They were preparing an ultrasound and depending on what they saw surgery was likely going to become necessary to save his life. To be honest, the main thing that I heard was that there was a high probability that Junior wouldn’t even survive that surgery. I was stunned. I remember getting up and walking into the bathroom where my girlfriend was showering. She heard me come in and could see through the glass that I was just sitting on the sink. I started to calmly explain what I was just told on the voicemail. Once I got to the part about Junior possibly “not surviving” the surgery, my face started to shake and my voice flat out trailed off. I was breathing heavy between words and I just started sobbing. Tears are coming right now, just writing this, remembering the sadness of that moment. I was heartbroken. I was beside myself with anxiety and with worry and with sadness for Junior and for Sondra. He was absolutely the last little guy that deserved this. Life is so unfair at times.

This is a side tangent, but It’s a difficult thing to grasp when you realize that your outer exterior has become hardened. Not by any lack of caring, but by experiencing the realness of the sadness on an all too often basis. Point being that when you are immersed within an unfortunate reality, banging and clanging away on a daily basis, it takes the silent toll. That unfortunate reality, for me, is the United States sheltering system. Thankfully I’d like to think that I remain compassionate, that I remain able to emphasize, able to care, able to want to help. What I’m more referencing is the ability to show that outer emotion when I experience something worthy of being emotional for. Because this is certainly a daily occurrence, and yet I’ve stopped crying. I’ve seen and I’ve heard and I’ve read so many things… I’ve experienced so many things firsthand. Because of this, there is a long list of happenings that would otherwise horrify the average person, that no longer even surprise me at all. This is the downside of being at ground zero of whatever fight I am in. You see travesties, and you see betrayals, and you see innocence wasted in a reckless and foolish manner. I’ve cried my tears, and my eyes are usually all dried up. Going further, and on a super personal level, my experiences with Sway have automatically manifested this new way of categorizing grief. I’ve been through a lot, and in some ways, have been grieving since Sway was diagnosed with AIHA in 2007. I have my moments, but I’m aware of these silent tolls. Junior’s plight obliterated whatever new emotional space that I found myself in…

My emotional reaction was uncontrollable, and it took me a few minutes to even get to a point to where I could even attempt to talk. I called Sondra back and she was beside herself as well. She explained in more detail that the X-rays revealed that Junior’s intestinal loops were very large, unlike anything the vet had seen before. She said that his bowels were extremely backed up, that the ultra sound revealed massive obstructions, and that his entire insides were clogged with junk to the point that one of his intestines may be ruptured. Surgery was recommended as the only option for saving his life. She of course went ahead with it. Junior was in surgery right now. She told me about how she went back to the room with Junior, before they put him under, and made sure that he knew that he wasn’t being abandoned. To make sure that he knew that she was there, with him, loving him. This made me feel so good, and sad. I cried so hard over this, and throughout the entire phone conversation. It was cathartic in a way, probably for both of us, to be talking to the other “important” person in Junior’s life. I’m very grateful to Sondra and for the conversation that we had while we were both awaiting word from his surgery.

It was during this conversation that I opted to tell her about my experience at the boarding facility. How Junior ran after me, and how the kennel worker slammed the door in his face. How I didn’t make it right, in that moment. I told her about how I felt, that I’ve constantly worried that Junior may have thought that I, too, was abandoning him. Did he think that? I had racked my brain with the thoughts that may have traveled through his mind as he walked back into his run. It has literally killed me. Honestly, it will continue to kill me. I feel so much shame, even though I know I didn’t, but to think that Junior may have perceived it that way. That breaks my heart into a billion pieces. Sondra reassured me that she told Junior every day how much I loved & missed him. I know that dogs know, and all I can do is have faith that Junior knew. It still haunted me though, and I asked Sondra that when Junior made it out of surgery, if I could actually fly up to Eugene to see him and show him that I was still in his life. She said absolutely, and for a split second I was energized with the thought of seeing Junior again.

About 2 hours later Sondra called me to tell me that Junior didn’t survive. All I can say is that I was thankful to be able to talk to her during this time. There was some silence, lots of crying, lots of trying to understand, some attempting not to second-guess, lots of supporting each other, lots of reminiscing, lots of speaking to how good Junior was. Surgery revealed that he had multiple perforations of his bowel and the majority of his intestinal tissue was dead due to numerous sharp objects that were constantly damaging the area over and over again. It would heal itself and then destroy itself, heal and get destroyed again. This is something that clearly plagued Junior for the majority of his life, well before any of us were blessed by his presence. That grief is very heavy, very hard to put into context. As I explained earlier, there was not enough “healthy” tissue to sustain his life going forward. Just a devastating thing.

Junior, you will be eternally missed by me. I loved you so much, from the very first second that I laid eyes on you, and I hope that you always realized that. I hope that you didn’t think that I was abandoning you at your boarding facility. I’m so sorry that I didn’t turn around and try to reassure you again… Knowing that you had 2 wonderful weeks with Sondra really gives me hope that you were finally able to see the type of wonderful life that you should have been given from the start. People aren’t always good, and I’m so sorry that you experienced all that you did up to the point of you being dropped off at that awful kill-shelter. You deserved so much better. And yet you never changed, you were never brought down by any of your misfortune. You were like a little Gandhi, showing us the way until the very end. May you always know that certain people loved and continue to love you deeply, and may you never be treated poorly again. I’m not specifically religious to one allotted way or what have you, but it’s my belief that you were a past soul that had completed all of the tasks that God had bestowed upon you. You had lived your life the way that we can only dream about living it, reached levels of character that we can only continue to strive for. I know that you are resting well. Please find my Sway and tell her that I love her and that I miss her. You’ve got a friend in her. Finally, thanks for being the ultimate Pit Bull ambassador. You would have made a believer out of them all. We will continue this journey, drop in on me from time to time. I love you, sweet boy.

This, from Junior’s rescuer, Sondra:

I had the pleasure of taking care of Junior for two weeks. He died at the emergency vet a little over a week ago and every time I come home, I still find myself looking for him on the corner of my sofa. In full disclosure, I do tend to fall in love with any dog, but Junior was a shining star! He had a unique and seemingly contradictory personality trait that will forever etch him into my heart. It was apparent that he was frightened of every thing (and I do mean everything). However, despite it all, he would quickly develop trust for any human that showed him even the slightest bit of kindness. From the first day I met him, I realized he had quite a few health issues that would take priority. However, I was very excited at the prospect of being Junior’s “guide” into the expansive and unknown world and watching him learn confidence, once he was well. Despite his fears, Junior was smart, loving, easy going and extremely eager to please–the epitome of the term “breed ambassador.”

Junior’s severe muscle atrophy told me that he had spent a lot of his time confined in a small area. Well, that and the fact that his legs and belly bore stubborn urine stains that resisted several baths. In retrospect, I can imagine that his former owners probably lost patience with him for soiling the house and just resolved it by locking him up. I only wish I could tell them that the reason he was soiling the house is that he was very, very sick and dogs will often soil the house to let you know they are not feeling well. In case you are wondering, I did not confine him for peeing on my furniture nor for his “drippy bottom.” I just used lots of tarps and blankets and did an exceptional amount of laundry. He also had an ulcer in his eye, an ear infection and his joints were very loose. The vet and I were treating his diarrhea, eye and ear problems and were going to reconvene about his orthopedic issues at a later date.

Despite the fact that he was even more sick than either the vet or I realized, he actually did manage to have a lot of fun. He really liked the dogs that I introduced him to at my house. They had fun playing together and I would often find them piled up on the futon, napping together, as if they had been friends forever. I also took him out to a friend’s house that has a large property. As per usual, I had to carry him out of the truck and it took several minutes to coax him away from the safety of the truck. However, once he realized that nothing was going to hurt him, it was game on! He tried so hard to keep up with his buddy, Baxter, but was no match for Baxter’s speed. It didn’t matter to him. His frequent and vigorous tail wags let me know that those moments were quite possibly the best times he had ever had in his life. Knowing what I know now, I am amazed that he was inspired to play. Dogs are incredible!

Junior died on Christmas Eve at the emergency vet, after surgery. There were multiple pieces of something that looked like it might have been some type of ball, but the material was not at all soft. The edges were very sharp. The vet told me that he had been dealing with this for a long time and his intestines were scarred from repeated lacerations. He had also eaten a fair amount of fabric. The vet proclaimed it was the worst she had ever seen. There was nothing left of his intestines to support his life, so we had to have him euthanized. I feel like I, too, had surgery which resulted in me losing a piece of my heart on that day.

I took this dog when my life was so full of pressing things that I questioned my sanity when I said “Yes, I’ll take him.” I am grateful that I ignored those pressing matters and spent a lot of time with Junior. He followed me around the house and could not get enough physical contact. I also frequently brought him with me in the cab of the truck, as my day is broken up in several “appointments” and therefore I am able to have frequent “visits” with any dog I bring along. I gave him lots and lots of hugs and kisses and kind words. I told him how much I loved him about a billion times. I have often heard that when a person is faced with their death and reflecting upon life, their regrets are not for missing work, but for not spending enough time with loved ones. Although I am not the one that was on her death bed, I can very much relate to that sentiment. Finding time for Junior was my blessing. Although he was afraid of so much, he was very courageous in how he faced his pain and also in his willingness to trust a human, even though he was very evidently not treated very well before. It is so hard to describe his purity of spirit. I honestly feel like I experienced a moment with an angel. I will never be able to adequately thank Josh for finding this little gem and sending him up to me. I realize that there were other people that helped him on his journey, and I thank them as well. I would do it all over again today, even with the same ending. Those two weeks spent with Junior were priceless and I have to believe that despite his illness, he enjoyed being appreciated and loved. He was, very much, appreciated and loved.

Thank you, Junior. If I knew a word that meant more than love, that is how I would describe my feelings for you. I know that you are in a better place, because you ARE heaven, my very dear friend. Until we meet again…

If you’d like to help Sondra with the rather large bill that she accumulated while trying to get Junior the necessary care on Christmas Eve, please visit HERE. Please note that your donation is specifically for Junior. All donations ARE tax deductible as Save The Pets is an approved 501(c)(3). Their corresponding Tax ID# is 65-129-8848. If you’d prefer mailing a donation, please address to: Save the Pets, P.O. Box 5905, Eugene, OR 97405. Again, please note that your donation is specifically for Junior. To PayPal them directly, send to SaveThePetsEugene@gmail.com.

So I’m just really happy to finally have a site up that represents the efforts that I’ve been working towards for the better part of the last year, both on and off of Facebook. Thanks to all of the people that have “liked” the specific page, and to those that have followed and networked the pitties that I’ve photographed & that others have photographed for that matter… We really have a huge multifaceted problem on our hands, and I hope that in time this website will serve as a positive asset for those who want to make the world a better place for Pit Bulls.

I just want to recognize Sway here, and say that I miss her and love her, and that I do what I do here in her honor always…