I got to meet the one across the street, for first time, last week. Beautiful pit, 6 month or so old, always looks happy and playful, though kept on a chain in a non-fence backyard. The kids of the family have acted terrified of it, as it is high spirited and dying for attention. They never play with him. PJ and I feel sorry for him. The young woman of the house was feeding and cleaning the dog house, with "CJ" off the chain and kids in the house. I walked over and complimented on what great looking dog he was and asked if I could pet him. She said he might be OK with that, so I called him over, reached out my hand while talking to him and did get to pet the top of his head once, then he changed and got not mean, but playful excited and started jumping up. The Sieko with large metal band saved my wrist on the first jump and I command NO, in a command and held out my open hand in what I use for halt or stay with Lexie. He jumped again, this time at my face, which I caught his face behind the jaws and shoved, redirecting and again commanding NO. I know he thought he was playing, but he thought the game was on. He came again, as I was telling her, I see he can get too playful, and jumped my back from behind, still not growling but ripping out part of my shirt (that I got atop a mountain, I don't plan to go up again) and the tee-shirt underneath. She yelled (not commanded) to get down, as I said, well we've socialized enough for one day and turned to walk away. Mistake. I felt his leg and shoulder hit my ass and back hard, and the jaws snap shut on the leg of brand new pair of Wrangler heavy denim jeans, the force of the unexpected hit from this 65 lb Pit puppy, knocking me a step. I turned to stand my ground, left arm out, fingertips closed curled open fist out, and commanded, DOWN GAWDAMNIT! in my best command voice that is easily heard across a quad, with my eyes fixed on his, my right hand unclipping the hold strap on the shoulder holster of my 9 millimeter. He stood back 15 ft now growling, barking, bearing teeth, but knew my eyes were on him and meant business. Then I slowly backed off steady toward the street, maintaining left arm fixed and out, open fist out, eyes locked on his eyes and right hand wrapped around the grip of the PPQ. I knew he had started playing and got exited, but also knew we were beyond that now. He did not make another pass, as I backed out of his territory, so I did not have to shoot the dog (though I knew another pass would be him or me) on what started as a friendly encounter. The new jeans were ripped 9 of 10 inched down the leg as he had gotten both sides of the seam and ripped it out, along with a hunk of my boxers underneath. As is usual for my danger encounters, I walked away without a scratch or drop of blood. Always been lucky like that, be it man, beast or crap out in nature.
He is just a good powerful large young dog, needing training, discipline and friendly attention of his owner, who I never have seen out there with him, ever. Beautiful strong muscular dogs, but bear watching, get excited, even in play, and will hit from the blind side. They often require training and discipline, or they perpetuate their reputation among those that do not understand, large working class dogs. Mine is a 90lb German Shepherd. She was young, high-spirited and destructive a few years ago.
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