Aware and enlightened

I had wanted to post something for Pit bull Awareness Day Oct. 9, but Sunday came and went without a minute to spare. So imagine my delight when I found out that October is actually Pit bull Awareness MONTH! Woo hoo.

Truth be told, however, Hathaway and I try to make every day of every month Pit bull Awareness Day so people start to realize how incredible these dogs can be. We have made friends at the dog park and around the neighborhood, at the soccer fields and the pet store. People I have never seen before call out his name and rub his big head. And on Saturdays and Sundays at sporting fields teaming with hundreds of kids and adults, Hath is usually laying on the sideline, watching the action and getting his belly rubbed by child after child after child, or sometimes an entire team at once.

Puppies climb on him and toddlers standing at eye level pluck his favorite ball right out of his mouth and he plays or waits or chases, whatever he understands his job to be at that moment. We have taken the first steps toward teaching him to be a therapy dog.

And still we have moments, like the lady at the dog park a couple of weeks ago in her fancy clothes walking her trendy Lab. As I was talking with my friend Beth, another regular with two small schnauzer types, Hathaway was stretched out in the cool grass, chewing his rubber ball like bubble gum. He wasn't on a leash. He rarely is.

When the woman was about 20 yards away, she waved and very sincerely called out, "Is it safe to walk by?"

Caught off guard (being in a place where everyone knows Hath's name), I looked around for a moment. When I saw it was only me and Beth standing there, it was clear she was asking about the dog.

I waved back and just as politely said "Of course" and turned back to my friend. Beth bit her tongue for as long as she could, so the woman had passed us but wasn't completely out of earshot when she burst out with an "Are you KIDDING me? Did she mean Hathaway?" followed by a few more colorful words.

I just shrugged. It happens -- not all the time, but regularly enough. For some people, it doesn't matter that he is an AKC-certified Canine Good Citizen or how much training he's had. For some people, it won't matter that we will eventually be visiting nursing homes or helping kids to read. They'll hear the word --pit bull -- and the rest won't matter.

So every day, if we can meet someone new or play with another kid, if we can be out around town and in stores, sitting for pats and playing with puppies, we might change one more opinion. That might mean one more dog is rescued and that's why every day is Pit bull Awareness Day for us.

Oh deer!

Yes, I'm way behind. This working-for-a-living thing really has its drawbacks. On the bright side, Hathaway has a brand spanking new, personalized (!) mat under his dinner dishes that is keeping the kitchen floor much cleaner ... that is on the days he doesn't rummage through the trash.

Those days are fewer and farther between. Our encounters with wildlife this fall, however, are definitely more frequent. No, we haven't had any more coyote adventures thank goodness. But there are the squirrels and turkeys and deer, oh my!

Our deer encounter was by far the coolest. Bambi wanted to play.

In late September, Hath and I took some early morning walks, usually strolling through the cemetery across the street just after the sun came up, enjoying the last bits of summer before the autumn chill set in.

I usually have him off the leash over there, since we are away from the cars and he's really not too spontaneous. He never bolts after anything, and he comes when he's called. So we are walking along. He's sniffing and peeing. As we came around a bend, I see two fawns about 30 yards away. I'm so surprised, I stop in my tracks, hoping to have a moment to look at them before they run off.

The deer, however, aren't paying much attention to me. They are watching the fawn-colored pit bull walking along the edge of the path. Hathaway, oblivious, is sniffing and peeing. As he got closer, they got curiouser, still standing quite still, but raising their ears and twitching their tails. Their noses were sniffing like mad and the bolder one took a step forward.

Though he was now only about 10 yards away, Hathaway still hadn't noticed his company. I hadn't moved much, wanting to see what they would do.

When the deer finally started to move, Hathaway looked up and stopped. His tail went up and he sniffed. He looked at me, and looked back at them, then tentatively took a couple of steps forward, then a couple more. I was getting a little closer to take pictures with my phone, but Hathaway got to within about 5 feet.

The bolder deer, to my amazement, not to mention awe, stretched his front legs forward, neck bent, butt raised, in the classic play position. "Bring it on, pit bull," he was saying. "We want to run!"

Hathaway doesn't even chase squirrels, so he certainly didn't know what to make of these two creatures who were more than twice his size. He watched them and sniffed then, and then he did it -- he chased them.

Sort of. He trotted forward, at not even half speed. The deer took off, running about 10 yards, then circling back to wait when they saw he wasn't following. They did it again and again -- Hath sort of chasing, the deer running away, then coming back to wait for him.

The three of them played for nearly 15 minutes, working their way through the cemetery until I finally put him back on his leash. They were getting closer to the busy street at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't want any of them taking this game into traffic. We did another lap around the cemetery and one of the deer followed us a for a short distance before running off.

People who have pets know that animals are very effective communicators. They let us know many times a day what they want, what they need and what they do and do NOT like. They may not use words, but their body language says it all.

They do it between species as well. The deer told Hath that they wanted to play, and he obliged them with a little game of chase. It was the most incredible moment (to date) in a series of special moments with this dog.

Summer Lovin' Part D'oh

Couldn't get blogger to use two pictures and didn't have time to tinker. Here's Dan with (from back to fore) Lily, Josey, Hath, Seamus and Truman.

Summer lovin'

Fall is my favorite time of year, but we had a pretty darn good summer. This is a picture of our friends, most of whom we made in the last few months. Louie and Carmen we missed all summer, so we're extra glad it's fall. We love you all.

Rescue Me

People always ask if we've had Hathaway since he was a puppy, and they're always amazed when the answer is no, he's a rescue.

The kids and I are celebrating our year anniversary with our big boy, and looking back to when we got him, thinking about many of the months before that, I think it's more accurate to say that he rescued me.

Last year was not a good year, from divorce and the tsunami it creates, waves and earthquakes rising up in places you never expected; being laid off without the option of filing for unemployment; the instability of freelance work; to minor health issues cropping up one after the other and running out of the resources to adequately address them, basically it sucked.

With all that to deal with, of course the logical solution is to adopt a dog. Or better yet, a 2-year-old male pit bull that has been surrendered twice, right? Friends said "Think about everything you're dealing with right now. Do you really need to deal with how people are going to react to a pit bull as well?" Family said "Pit bulls kill people in Detroit."

But we brought him home anyway, and what he's given us in the last year -- besides teeny tiny pieces of what used to be our stuff (cell phones, stuffed animals, food, reading glasses for starters) -- is the comfort of unconditional love and the sheer joy that comes from the very center of the heart. He is always happy, always ready to play or lick your face or just curl up next to you and find peace in the warmth of the connection.

He's given us -- me especially -- peace of mind. When we started walking, getting back to the exercise was not just good for the body, but helped clear the mind and restore the soul.

He helped me find a refuge where the only thing you are judged by is how you treat your dog. The dog park -- bark park -- is my sanctuary, whether I need to be alone or in the center of the canine mayhem. It is my reset button, regardless of how the day went.

And Hathaway has brought a world of new people into my life, a safety net of sorts. Friends and love I wouldn't have except for my dog. It all has revived feelings long ago given up for dead.

A group of us were walking the other day and somebody noted how amazing it is that we all found each other -- all with similar needs or voids to fill. And here we were, walking, needs met in many ways, filled with the simple joy of watching the dogs play and run and wrestle.

So yes, my dog may be from a shelter, but the real rescue is me.

Like cats and dogs

Thinking a lot about friends these days, mine, Hathaway's, and so on. It will be a longer post, but meanwhile I had to share this video. Hath gets the same look in his eye when he plays with puppies.

Eat, pray, love

It always cracks me up when I offer Hathaway something to eat and he sniffs it first, like there's the remotest chance he will not take it.

The only thing thing this dog has declined is leafy greens without dressing. Even then, because he is always the gentleman and his manners are impeccable, he will still daintily take the lettuce or baby spinach, just to spit it out when he thinks I'm not looking. The same thing goes for raw mushrooms; he prefers his fungi sauteed or on pizza.

Still, offer him things he loves: a nut or a bite of bagel, piece of apple or his favorite -- banana -- and he will take a whiff before accepting your offering. Maybe he's checking the vintage. Maybe he's whetting his appetite. Regardless, his devotion and his pleasure are food. Indulge him, and he will worship you. He eats as we all should: with love and gusto as evidenced by his prolific and appreciative drool, if not by his svelte body.

Maybe we should all follow our noses.