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The Lodge at Real Life, MT.

Come visit where the air and water is clean and the people are real. As your inn keeper I confess that I have more than my share of opinions on absolutely everything. I'm also chock full of advice and ready to give it at every opportunity - asked for or not. You'll also find the entries from my old blog here: An Animal Shelter - Everyday Stories. These were stories about a typical animal shelter in Montana. It ended when my relationship with the local animal shelter ended - badly.

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Location: Helena, Montana, United States

Thursday, June 23, 2005

A Pit Bull

When you first see her Peaches isn't the first name that comes to mind. Killer, Brutess, Cruella – those might be names that come to mind but they couldn't be further from the truth. Peaches is a Pit Bull. She's the classic brown brindle and white with a big block head, split half white and half brown. Her bowed legs hold her stocky body firmly in place. She's all chest and muscle with tiny brown eyes. She isn't pretty from any angle. And making this poor girl look even tougher is what some idiot did to her. Her white muzzle is raw - torn and chewed. Her ears are ripped and ragged. She has evidence of scars both old and new all over her. Some of her wounds are new enough to reopen if you aren't careful when you handle her. We think, although we can't prove, that she was used as a "bait" dog to provoke fighting dogs to fight or to practice on. She clearly isn't a fighter herself. When you approach her cage she won't look at you. Her head is down, her tail tucked under. It's as if she's waiting patiently for whatever awful thing you're going to do to her. I took her out yesterday for some socializing. Thanks to the staff and volunteers that walk her she did pep up when she caught on that she was going outside and she nearly dragged me through the building to get out. After the necessary pit stop (pun INtended!) we went over to the grass and I sat down. It took her about 20 minutes to sit down and relax. I petted her short rough coat and talked to her about things. I scratched her ears, careful not to open up the many scabs. Every so often she would look at me - and ugly or not – it was a nice look. We had some thunder and it was instantly clear that this tough, terrible looking dog was scared. She startled and howled – a pathetic "woo, woo" sound. I pulled her big, homely head close to me and petted her until she wasn't afraid anymore. We sat there together for an hour. She even licked my nose. Me and Peaches the Pit Bull. She's going to be hard to place but I hope we can find her a really kind owner that will look beyond the not so peachy exterior to the sweet and loyal dog inside.