I am a lifelong movie hound who has been influenced at times by heroic narratives and timeless courtships. I learned about first dates and opening car doors from watching A Bronx Tale. The classroom in Dead Poets Society helped me discover a love for literature and teaching. Die Hard taught me about resilience and to pack proper footwear if invited to a Christmas party.
Movies can influence us in establishing cliches and stereotypes that often take time to unlearn. X really doesn’t mark the spot. Doctors aren’t inherently egotistical, nor are all lawyers stripped of a moral compass. The stereotype at the Aiken County Animal Shelter is that pit bulls automatically need to be feared. Not true.
And yet, by and large, we do fear them. We’ve been conditioned to see the breed as foaming, devastating creatures, more akin to furry Terminators than giant, red companions or athletically gifted retrievers. Instead, they are the unsavory character’s intimidating bodyguard. They are junkyard defenders, just a choke chain or spiked collar away from certain disaster. They are the reason cameras linger on Beware of Dog signs.
That would have been me too had it not been for the Aiken County Animal Shelter. I’ve always crossed to the other side of the street, or given a wide berth to these dogs, leashed or not. A pit bull as a pet? No way. I believed they were dangerous and uncontrollable. Why? Because I believed the cliches.
The shelter is at capacity now and over half of them have various amounts of pit bull mixed into them. They last longer in the kennels than other “gentler breeds.”
I volunteer for FOTAS and spend many days walking the dogs outside their kennels. I literally cannot avoid these pit bull mixes now and I am so happy I get to walk them. They are all begging for affection and exercise and can’t wait to see me when I show up.
I walk Suzie who is a medium-sized, black pitty mix with white paws, a contagious smile and soulful eyes. She likes most every dog she meets and is usually the first one to jump in the shelter’s kiddie pool during playgroup. Suzie also insists on getting a hug when you return her to her kennel.
I also look forward to spending time with Butler, a sleek black boy with a white highway divider between his eyes. He’s got those stereotypical bear trap jaws but I don’t hesitate to let him crawl up and nibble at my beard.
And I never leave without watching Bam Bam and his massive ivory head jiggle with anticipation as we enter the woods, the simple joy of life and love powering him, and me, into another hopeful day.
These three, along with the rest of the animals at the shelter, all exude this infectious sort of hope. Theirs, to find a loving, loyal family. Ours, that perceptions can be changed, that harmful cliches will be forgotten.
Like pit bulls and treasure maps, Hollywood often gets something else wrong. In life, not everyone gets a happy ending, but with your help, either walking, cuddling, or taking them home, maybe these incredible animals will.
By Drew Attana, FOTAS Volunteer
