Pit Bull Love Quotes

When I was little, my friends would gush over wedding gowns and honeymoons. But I saw too many people flush decades together down the toilet over money or kids or meaningless flings. My own parents chose to stay married, which I think is rather funny, since they show about as much affection for each other as pit bulls in a ring. Tying the knot means slipping a noose around love and choking it to death.

Of all the possible partners, I get a pit bull puppy.

Darren smiled. “He saved my life and my dog’s life. He loves pit bulls.” “That’s all I need to hear.

. She was beautiful, and her temperament seemed much better than his first wife did. Arman stopped in the middle of the Windsor knot on his tie. Who was he trying to kid, he thought. An enraged rabid pit bull in heat would have had a better temperament then his first wife.

With two pit bulls in the house, we have a responsibility to make sure they’re always under control. I mean, we’re well aware of how sweet and harmless they are, yet the fact that they even exist intimidates others, so we train for our neighbors’ peace of mind. As an added bonus, the dogs love it!

The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived power but in his own right, Wicked, rather than virtuous out of conformity or fear, Fond of his sweetheart, relishing well his steak, Unrequited love or a slight cutting him worse than a wound cuts, First rate to ride, to fight, to hit the bull's eye, to sail a skiff, to sing a song or play on the banjo, Preferring scars and faces pitted with smallpox over all latherers and those that keep out the sun.

Although I love all dogs—and especially mixed alien weirdo street mutts (honestly, the fewer legs, the better)—in the last five years or so, I’ve gravitated toward pit bulls because they remind me of, well, me. They have big teeth, their menacing look tends to belie their mushy insides, and they very frequently break valuable things by accident.

By the time I learned what a Pit Bull really was, it was too late; I was already in love. Of course I'd heard the stories, but I had never put these almost mythological urban tales together with the dogs in my neighborhood. I was living in Manhattan, just blocks away from a dog park, and dog watching was a spectator sport among those of us who were still dogless. There were dogs of every shape and size, but my eye kept going to the short, stocky, exuberant dogs that seemed like cartoons. You could tell by the gleam in their eyes they felt very lucky to be here, in the city, walking with the person they kept on the other end of the leash. Their heads were blocky and human. Their short coats made it seem like they were wearing costumes made of felt. It wasn't hard to imagine there might be a little person inside. And they were everywhere that there were people: in cafes, outside bodegas, eating at restaurants.

Pit bulls are not dangerous or safe. Pit bulls aren’t saints or sinners. They are no more or less deserving than others dogs of love and compassion, no more of less deserving of good homes. They didn’t cause society’s ills, nor can their redemption...solve them. There is nothing that needs to be redeemed, anyway; they were never to blame on the first place...there never was a “pit bull problem”. What happened to these animals was a byproduct of human fears, and what humans feared most was one another. After all we have put them through, maybe it is time to let pit bulls show us who they are, to let them have a part in writing their own stories. Pit bulls are not dogs with an asterisk. Pit bulls are just...dogs.

If you abuse a collie when it is a puppy, she may shy away from people when she grows up. If you abuse a German shepherd, she may bite people when she is an adult. A pit bull may kill people when she grows up. A shih tzu will probably still love people when she grows up (and maybe become a therapist).

Pit Bull bans are enormously expensive and ineffective. And if breed discriminatory ordinances are passed, people who love their pets will fight the arbitrary identification of their dog, making them more difficult to enforce. If you take someone's property away, the burden of proof is on the government to prove the pet is subject to the law, which means you must prove it is a pit bull. That becomes an extensive, costly battle that could require DNA testing to see if the dog actually is subject to a ban.

groomed, and fed the family dog for years." A very common occurrence. "Reason for leaving last job: Pushed aside so the vice president's girlfriend could steal my job." Not a great experience then? "Previous experience: Self-employed -- a fiasco." And a poodle when it comes to modesty. "I am a pit bull when it comes to analysis."  Yeah and I am the Queen of England. "I am the king of accounts payable reconciliation." Travelling hobo. "Work history: Bum. Abandoned belongings and led nomadic lifestyle." Perhaps you need a mop for the floor? "I like slipping and sliding around behind the counter and controlling the temperature of the food." Sshhh, people maybe listening. .."Reason for leaving last job: The owner gave new meaning to the word 'paranoia.' I prefer to elaborate privately." It just has. "My ruthlessness terrorized the competition and can sometimes offend." Don't we all. "I love dancing and throwing parties." Wow, that quick. "I am quick at typing, about 25 words per minute.

This is one of those rescues I'll never forget," recalls Troy. "Like everybody else, I had my own stereotypes about Pit Bulls, so I was a little nervous when we saw these two on top of an almost fully submerged car. And then one of them jumped into the water and started swimming right at us. You could tell by his eyes that he was a little confused, but he definitively wanted to get to us. I didn't know if he was coming to say, Get out of my territory, or if he was coming for help. I took a picture of him as he swam toward me, and then this big old pit bull head is staring up at me, on my side of the boat. I put down my camera, took a deep breath, then reached down and just grabbed this dog and pulled him up into the boat." It was an anxious moment for Troy, but his fears were soon allayed. "He was just nuzzling his head into my neck, and his tail was just thumping against the side of the boat, just thumping so loud, bam bam bam. He would have climbed right inside of you. This dog had been trapped on the roof of a car in his own driveway, no clean water, no food, waiting for his owners to come back. He's sunburned. He's sick. But the most important thing in that dog's life right then was being loved. He couldn't get close enough to me.

there is no context in which my ego, if not fastidiously monitored, won’t run amok. It is extremely difficult to put aside a lifetime’s conditioning. The only way I can stay drug free is one day at a time, with vigilance, humility, and support. My tendency is still, after eleven years, to drift towards oblivion. My appetite for attention too can only be positively directed with great care. Look out your window, turn on your TV, see which values are being promoted, which aspects of humanity are being celebrated. The alarm bells of fear and desire are everywhere; these powerful primal tools, designed to aid survival in a world unrecognizable to modern civilized humans, are relentlessly jangled. A facet of our unevolved nature—comparable to that which still craves sugar and fat, a relic from the days when it was scarce—is being pricked and jabbed and buzzed every time we see a billboard bikini or a Coca-Cola floozy. Our saber-toothed terrors and mammoth anxieties are being dragged up and strung out by shrill transmissions about immigrants, junkies, pit bulls, and cancer. Once I sat in that kundalini class, in white robes, cross-legged, with pan-piped serenity caressing the congregation as we meditated as one, and all I was really thinking about was if I should buy a gun. I was in America after all and you are allowed a gun. Have you ever held a Glock 38? It feels so cool in your hand. Even the word makes you feel tough. “Glock.” Tupac had one; Eminem loves them—I want one. Never mind all this hippie-dippie, yin–yang, Ramadan, green-juice bullshit; I want a gat, like Tupac. Of course, I think things like that; the messages that are broadcast on that frequency move fast and stick hard. Look at the state of the world. I didn’t buy one, though; my mum had to remind me that I’m a peace-loving lad and that if I had a gun in the house, the person most at risk would be me. The kundalini techniques worked: They advanced my mind, they tuned me in. How much more powerful these techniques would be if supported by a culture of spiritual evolution, not one of self-fortification.

I held on to this fantasy like a stubborn little pit bull.

I wish. Seeing a ghost would rock!" I walked up to the doc as he turned and smiled at me. He already had a fishing pole in his hand. "Where's mine?" I glanced around, not seeing another pole. "I didn't think we were staying long. It's a school night and I know how you are about your sleep." He turned and reached for Kitty as the dog whimpered in my arms. "You, silly boy. It's just Zach." Zach smiled and moved back. "It's alright. My mother just got a new dog. It's a pit-bull. Damn thing is vicious. I'm sure Kitty just smells her on me." Zach bent down a little but kept his distance. "Don't you boy? That's what it is." Kitty barked and tried to get out of my arms to get to Zach. "Good grief. One minute you love him, the next you don't." I put him down and held onto his leash as