Pit Bull, AKA American Staffordshire Terrier, is what my huge head is all about. When Mom’s been staring at my head for days on end, she thinks normal, is a huge head on a dog. Then, when she comes across a non-Pit, Mom thinks “Oh no, that poor dog’s head got squished in a slamming door.” The results are a smooshed face and beady eyes that only a parent could love.
Sometimes after a dog-park play date, I feel bad about my head size. Mom tells me not to worry. My large head has the capacity to hold way more brains than the pointy-headed dogs, so I’m to hold my head proud and high.
Many two-legged’s comment on my strong shoulders and chest. Humm, they sorta must be strong to keep my head from dragging on the ground. Who knew being a brainiac would ripple effect right into my shoulders?
Due to my strong and tall stature, most know I’m not a full-blooded Pit Bull. Mom tells me it’s good I’ve got multiple genetics’ swirling through my blood. She has heard that full-blooded breeds have a host of problems to contend with.
So, I get the best outta all my breeds and none of the known ailments. Yippie for me!
Let’s slip on back to my literal tail-end. My tail is all Shepherd, long and whip strong. The tail is in a direct line to my head which means it’s easy for the Shepherds’ intelligent genes to flow into my mind.
Pits are smart; Shepherds are the smartest, so I got brains with pizzazz.
The last thing I got from the Shepherd is ferocious, scare the crap outta you, angry, snarl face. If I think My sweet Mama is under duress, I become a fang-toothed monster, ready to rip and tear. I’m a protector and will protect with my last breath.
Mom hugs me, plays kissy-face, scratches my butt, and walks me every day … yet, whenever I even get a whiff of another two-legged anywhere near I start crying for affection. This embarrasses My Mom until she remembers I’ve got some Labrador in me.
A Lab could be in the center of five people petting it ALL DAY LONG and still cry for more. Most call Labs their buddies. I call them Insatiable Touch Babies.
The last quality I got from the Lab is my love of water. If I get a hint something might be liquid, I’m running into it. I’ll do a big body plop and roll but heaven help me if I get my face wet. I HATE getting my face wet and will avoid it at all costs. That comes from those Bulldog genetics.
No water on my face and my powerful and statuesque chest can be attributed to the Bulldog. Some of my demand for attention stems from my Bulldog heritage.
I only got a drop in the bucket from my Chow-Chow genes. That drop shows up in my coloring. My luxurious short hair is caramel colored with subtle hints of red and gold that shimmers in the sunlight. I’d love to say, “I’m a gorgeous beast” but I’m much too humble for that attitude.
Mom is super happy I only got the Chow coloring and passed on the long hair, short-legged lion thing they have goin’ on.
The last swimmers in my blood are of the Husky. Those attributes show up in my ability to chat up a storm and enjoy freezing temperatures.
I don’t chat often, but when I do, I’ve got a lot to say.
There is nothing better than an icy, back scratch after a snow bath. A snooze in the warm rays of the sun is the perfect ending.
I must acknowledge one more aspect of the Husky … cats. I lose all my senses except the inbred need to destroy when I spy a running cat. If the cat simply sits, I don’t have anything to chase, so it’s safe.
I want to end on a happy note so no more chatter on cats.
I know about my genetic makeup cuz Mom did a cheek swap when I was a pup. She would like to do another swab cuz she thinks they may have messed up. Due to my 100-pound weight and stature, I have a strong resemblance to a Mastiff. Yet I don’t have the jowls or extra wrinkly skin. I think Mom should save her money and instead buy me some high-quality treats like my best buddy Greg gives me.
Mom says “she wants to address the elephant in the room.” I’m like: What elephant? Where is it? Aren’t elephants humongous? She can’t be hiding under the couch, right? I’m confused.
I guess the elephant is my Pit Bull heritage. Mom told me that a lot of people think Pits are dangerously aggressive. I know if I got treats and pats on the head for being aggressive, I probably would be. As full-blooded Pit Bulls have aggression as a staple in their DNA, I think a Lab would be a great pet where tiny hoomans live.
My Mama raised me to be kind, obedient and never, ever lick her on the face. So, I get along with all my doggy playmates and lick the face of any two-legged that my wet, slobbery tongue can reach.
🧡Luv, Otis
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