A WET MONDAY

It's raining again and the raindrops obscure my tear-stained face. My sweet Annie, whose photo you see here, has begun to show signs that she is, indeed Pit Bull, a reality I have tried to deny from the time she began to grow into the undeniable "bully" body. When I adopted Annie from a local rescue group, I was told she was a Boston Terrier mix and at eight weeks old, she certainly could have been. The color and markings were not unlike that breed and she was very sweet. She is still very sweet, well-trained and mostly obedient. When she refuses to be obedient is when she is chasing other animals in the back yard. Some time ago she caught and severly injured an opposum, which did manage to get away in spite of her injuries. Of late, Annie has managed to catch and kill four squirrels. Yesterday was the worst. I heard the squirrel squealing and I ran out with the broom and tried to make Annie drop it from her mouth. She stubbornly held on until the squirrel stopped squealing and breathed its final breath. When Annie finally dropped it, I was in tears and sick at heart. I was faced with the reality that when she has "prey" in her mouth there is no stopping her. I took care of the dead squirrel and, through my tears and utter disgust, washed the blood from Annie's face, and pondered how I could possibly live with a dog who takes such pleasure in the "kill." Because . . . if she can do that with squirrels, could she one day do it with a child? Or an adult? She has shown definite signs of being more territorial with my sixteen year old dog lately, growling and even attacking her if she tries to go under the bed to sleep; Annie considers "under the bed" to be her "den" and when she's under there no one else may enter. To be completely honest, I hesitate to stick my hand under there when she's there, although she has never shown any signs of aggression toward me. I recognize, however, that I should not even have a second thought about that and since I do, somthing is not right. When I first brought Annie home, she came down with Kennel Cough and I nursed her through that illness like you would nurse a baby. And she was my baby; she loved to cuddle and I loved to tuck her in close to me in the early morning just before we got up. She grew quickly and clearly was not Boston Terrier. She is high-strung, and a little timid with strangers, particularly men, but I never thought of that as a problem - until now. So what to do? I talked with my Veterinarian yesterday and he suggested a Pit Bull Rescue group. This makes my heart ache - how do you just give away your child? And how would Annie cope with that when she considers me her Mommy (okay, Master). Some would say I am crazy; this is a dog for heaven sake. Or even, she's killing squirrels, for heaven sake. Good riddance, too many sqirrels anyway - etc. And, I hear those arguments and understand the logic. This isn't about logic. The Vet gave me some anti-anxiety medication for Annie (maybe I need some too). We're going to see if the meds will calm her enough that she won't be so prone to have to kill any wildlife in the back yard. She will chase and the exercise if good for her, but we hope she won't be so determined to catch and kill. We'll give it a try before we make any decisions. I'm not sure I could just give her up to a rescue group. It would feel like abandonment to me. It seems to be it would be less painful for Annie (if not for me) to have her euthanized. She would never have to understand that her Mommy has given up on her and she is very smart; she would know. So, it's raining today and I'm still crying.