Post by RealPitBull on Apr 25, 2008 7:31:59 GMT -5
Pit Bull Predicament Conference at Suffolf Community
Denise Flaim | Animal House
April 24, 2008
Talk is cheap. But at least it's a start.
On May 3 from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Long Island hosts its first-ever Pit Bull Predicament Conference at the Health, Sports and Education Center at Suffolk Community College's Brentwood campus. Open to the general public, as well as to rescue and shelter groups, the conference's stated goal is to "focus on the current problems being faced by pit bulls and to develop workable solutions to curtail irresponsible breeding and enhance their public image and adoptability." (Admission is $20 per person, including lunch, by next Thursday; $25 at the door.)
Long Island - like much of the rest of the nation - is drowning in pit bulls. Linda Stuurman, president of Last Hope Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation, which is the driving force behind the conference, estimates that depending on the location, 50 to 90 percent of dogs in our local municipal shelters are pit bulls, or pit mixes of some sort.
But just as prevalent as pit bulls are the wrongheaded stereotypes about them. This is nothing new - every era has its canine bogeymen. In the 1950s, it was Dobermans: Their skulls were too small to fit their brains, went the conventionally stupid wisdom. They would turn on their masters without warning.
Denise Flaim Bio | E-mail | Recent columns
Fifty years later, "pit bull" has become synonymous with "vicious." As evidence, people point to newspaper articles about pit-bull-related maulings. Of course, pit bulls can and do bite, but so does every breed of dog. Because a chomping Lab isn't as newsworthy as a marauding pit bull, media coverage shouldn't be extrapolated to represent evidence of some sort of teeming pit crime wave.
Another facet of the pit-bull debate that no one wants to talk about is that the breed has become associated with certain socioeconomic and demographic groups - specifically, young urban males. This is where intervention is sorely needed, in the form of education and free - not just subsidized, but free - spay/neuter services.
It's easy to say that the pit-bull appeals to street toughs because of his imposing exterior. But they, too, see and cherish his greatest strength - the sheer depth of his character. This is a dog who would do anything for his master, whose loyalty is unquestioning. This is why, for much of the 19th century, he was the hearth dog of the American West. A symbol of fidelity and stamina, he was depicted on patriotic posters during World War I. Helen Keller owned a pit bull. Petey, the bull's-eyed child's companion from "The Little Rascals," was one.
It is the pit bull's single-minded devotion to those he deems his own that is his tragic flaw. In the hands of the heartless, these dogs can be taught human aggression - as is the case with any breed. Give me a Chihuahua, and I can turn him into a man-hater. Give me a handful of generations, and I can hard-wire that trait into his offspring. Dogs are what we make of them - both in the short and long term.
The irony, of course, is that human aggression in pit bulls is a direct contradiction to the innate friendliness toward people that has been bred into them for decades. After all, what good is a fighting dog if he attacks his owner or a bystander, even in the heat of battle? Such pit bulls were escorted from the gene pool with a bullet to the head. This is why, generally speaking, they make lousy guard dogs.
Nonetheless, the witch hunt for pit bulls - and by extension, any "bully" breeds - has reached epic proportions, with breed-specific legislation outlawing them from Toronto to Detroit. A Trumbull, Conn., shelter recently resorted to DNA testing of a dog named Mindy to prove she wasn't a pit and make her more "adoptable." (Turns out she was 70 percent boxer - a gregarious breed that was presumably created from "bully" blood, though it has zero semantic baggage attached.)
Adding to the lunacy is that no one can really agree on what a pit bull is. The United Kennel Club, which has registered them since 1898, allows for a great variety in size and body style. (As a result of century-old politics, the American Kennel Club registers a subsection of these dogs under the banner of American Staffordshire terrier.) But most of the pits you encounter don't have a pedigree - just a bad rap.
If you disagree with what I have to say about pit bulls, no surprise there. Arguably, no modern breed has engendered more debate or controversy. And there will be plenty of it a week from Saturday. Try to be there.
more in /news/columnists
Copyright © 2008, Newsday Inc.
Denise Flaim | Animal House
April 24, 2008
Talk is cheap. But at least it's a start.
On May 3 from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Long Island hosts its first-ever Pit Bull Predicament Conference at the Health, Sports and Education Center at Suffolk Community College's Brentwood campus. Open to the general public, as well as to rescue and shelter groups, the conference's stated goal is to "focus on the current problems being faced by pit bulls and to develop workable solutions to curtail irresponsible breeding and enhance their public image and adoptability." (Admission is $20 per person, including lunch, by next Thursday; $25 at the door.)
Long Island - like much of the rest of the nation - is drowning in pit bulls. Linda Stuurman, president of Last Hope Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation, which is the driving force behind the conference, estimates that depending on the location, 50 to 90 percent of dogs in our local municipal shelters are pit bulls, or pit mixes of some sort.
But just as prevalent as pit bulls are the wrongheaded stereotypes about them. This is nothing new - every era has its canine bogeymen. In the 1950s, it was Dobermans: Their skulls were too small to fit their brains, went the conventionally stupid wisdom. They would turn on their masters without warning.
Denise Flaim Bio | E-mail | Recent columns
Fifty years later, "pit bull" has become synonymous with "vicious." As evidence, people point to newspaper articles about pit-bull-related maulings. Of course, pit bulls can and do bite, but so does every breed of dog. Because a chomping Lab isn't as newsworthy as a marauding pit bull, media coverage shouldn't be extrapolated to represent evidence of some sort of teeming pit crime wave.
Another facet of the pit-bull debate that no one wants to talk about is that the breed has become associated with certain socioeconomic and demographic groups - specifically, young urban males. This is where intervention is sorely needed, in the form of education and free - not just subsidized, but free - spay/neuter services.
It's easy to say that the pit-bull appeals to street toughs because of his imposing exterior. But they, too, see and cherish his greatest strength - the sheer depth of his character. This is a dog who would do anything for his master, whose loyalty is unquestioning. This is why, for much of the 19th century, he was the hearth dog of the American West. A symbol of fidelity and stamina, he was depicted on patriotic posters during World War I. Helen Keller owned a pit bull. Petey, the bull's-eyed child's companion from "The Little Rascals," was one.
It is the pit bull's single-minded devotion to those he deems his own that is his tragic flaw. In the hands of the heartless, these dogs can be taught human aggression - as is the case with any breed. Give me a Chihuahua, and I can turn him into a man-hater. Give me a handful of generations, and I can hard-wire that trait into his offspring. Dogs are what we make of them - both in the short and long term.
The irony, of course, is that human aggression in pit bulls is a direct contradiction to the innate friendliness toward people that has been bred into them for decades. After all, what good is a fighting dog if he attacks his owner or a bystander, even in the heat of battle? Such pit bulls were escorted from the gene pool with a bullet to the head. This is why, generally speaking, they make lousy guard dogs.
Nonetheless, the witch hunt for pit bulls - and by extension, any "bully" breeds - has reached epic proportions, with breed-specific legislation outlawing them from Toronto to Detroit. A Trumbull, Conn., shelter recently resorted to DNA testing of a dog named Mindy to prove she wasn't a pit and make her more "adoptable." (Turns out she was 70 percent boxer - a gregarious breed that was presumably created from "bully" blood, though it has zero semantic baggage attached.)
Adding to the lunacy is that no one can really agree on what a pit bull is. The United Kennel Club, which has registered them since 1898, allows for a great variety in size and body style. (As a result of century-old politics, the American Kennel Club registers a subsection of these dogs under the banner of American Staffordshire terrier.) But most of the pits you encounter don't have a pedigree - just a bad rap.
If you disagree with what I have to say about pit bulls, no surprise there. Arguably, no modern breed has engendered more debate or controversy. And there will be plenty of it a week from Saturday. Try to be there.
more in /news/columnists
Copyright © 2008, Newsday Inc.