Michael823
New member
Beautiful dogs!
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Dog attack
- Thread starter yellowbellyhippy
- Start date
Sweetseraph
New member
Was cleaning out my email when I came across this. Forewarned is forearmed.
If you are an owner of a dog that belongs to a 'dangerous breed'
category
and you also have a child or a visiting small child please take this as a
warning.
Don't leave your dog with a small child unattended under any
circumstances!!!
Only one little moment was enough for the following to happen.
See the photo below ......
If you are an owner of a dog that belongs to a 'dangerous breed'
category
and you also have a child or a visiting small child please take this as a
warning.
Don't leave your dog with a small child unattended under any
circumstances!!!
Only one little moment was enough for the following to happen.
See the photo below ......
ClickClickClickBOOM!
The Maddest Hatter
I've seen that! It always makes me laugh ><
ceduke
Female Wiccan Heretic!!
I've loved this story since the first time I read it, from a bull terrier breeder....
The following story titled "Are Bull Terriers Good With Children?" by Peggy Arnaud appeared in The Bull Terrier Club Of South Australia magazine in February 1994
Are Bull Terriers Good with Children?
Haven't we all been asked this question many times? Yes, if raised with children, a bull terrier is a perfect companion; gentle and aware of the child's fragility. Haven't we all watched a great lump of dog play quietly on the floor with babies, then without warning hurl itself upon an unsuspecting adult with sufficient force to practically land him in the intensive care unit. So I would like to ask this question - Are Bull Terriers Good With Adults? Not one of my dogs has ever laid a tooth on me, but the damage to my person has, over the years been considerable.
One rainy morning I was standing in the driveway watching my husband back out the car when Muffin came flat out around the corner of the house carrying a length of 2 x 4. What she was intending to do with this piece of lumber has never been determined - it is possible that she was becoming bored with the demolition trade and was about to enter the construction business. Turning at her approach, I received the full impact of the wood on my shinbone and was knocked to the ground by the force where I lay screaming with pain and fury. Muff observed this odd behaviour for a moment, then deciding that she had heard all those words before (usually directed at her anyway), she retrieved her wooden weapon, and spinning it around with the grace and agility of a baton twirler, connected neatly with the back of my head as I was attempting to get to my feet. The impact returned me to my previous horizontal position, this time face down. My husband, who witnessed the entire performance informed me later that the timing was superb - worthy of the best Keystone Cops or Marx Brothers. But he delayed his departure, herded the menace into her kennel and inquired through his merriment if I was hurt. Stating I thought I might live long enough to murder the wretched bitch, I was helped to my feet but found I could not put any weight on the injured leg and my scalp was cut and bleeding - so a trip to the accident room of the local hospital was thought advisable.
Being my first visit for emergency treatment, I was not prepared for the volume of information required. Name, address, occupation are routine - but how, when and why!....(I am an obstetrical nurse and our patients are admitted onto the floor with a minimum of questions. We know why they are there, and we know how it happened and we assume the patient knows too, although sometimes one wonders)!
The admitting nurse was efficient and thorough. Vital statistics dealt with came unexpected questions. "Now, how did this accident happen?" "Well," I said, "You see my dog had this big piece of wood in her mouth and she hit me with it."
"Your dog?" "Yes." "I see, - and the head wound?" "Well my dog did that too." "With a piece of wood?" "Yes, - it was the same piece of wood actually." "I see."
"Well," I said, coming quickly to Muffin's defence," of course she didn't mean to, she sort of spun around and she had this piece of wood in her mouth, you see - and, well-she hit me with it - I was sitting in the driveway at the time..."
Our local hospital does not have a psychiatric floor but I could see by the expression on the nurse's face that she was aware of the desperate need for one.
I was X-Rayed, treated amid controlled giggles from the staff, and released.
The next major incident followed swiftly. (Minor ones occur almost daily.) The paddock gate is, of necessity, sturdily built of oak and heavy. It opens inward. Every day I collect each dog after his play period.
I call them from whatever act of mayhem they may be committing, push open the gate and bend down ready to snap on the lead. For three hundred and sixty four days of the year Bloody Mary had galloped to the gate, come around it, and been leashed in the usual fashion. On this particular day,
whether due to a whim, or perhaps because the moon was in Aquarius she chose to project herself at approximately the speed of light from the far corner of the paddock, and instead of coming around the gate, she leapt at it with all the force of her fifty pounds of muscle, slamming it shut on my head. I
went down like a pole-axed ox, and remained down and out long enough for the murdureous beast to remove and eat the bait-biscuits from my pocket - she also removed and apparently ate the pocket. A small hairpiece I was wearing has never been seen again - presumably it was quickly killed and buried. Staggering into a lawn chair I sat holding my head and considering an early retirement from dog breeding, while Mary amused herself by eating the geraniums.
This pastoral scene continued for awhile until my neighbor drove up, took one look at me, and insisted - yes, you guessed it - on a trip to the Emergency Room.
The last thing I wished to do on this earth was return to the hospital where, after the Muffin episode, there exists some doubt as to my sanity - I am known locally as "that kook who lives up on the hill with those funny looking white things she says are dogs". But feeling too sick to argue or resist I was firmly placed in the car and hurried off to my fate.
And so it came to pass that once again I presented myself at the local Emergency Room. Of course, the admitting nurse was the same as before, the staff also. Approaching the desk in embarrassed misery - torn clothing, wild hair, a great lump on my forehead and eyes blackening fast, I am greeted by an obviously wary nurse - "Goodness, Mrs Arnaud, sit down. Whatever happened to you now?" I take a deep breath, (Oh God will get you for this Bloody Mary) and with visions of padded cells looming large in my future, "Well," I said "you see - my dog..."
Are Bull Terriers Good With Children?
Oh yes. They are lovely.
Are Bull Terriers Good With Adults?
Well I am an adult and they are not good with me, and I have the scars - my body, my furniture, and my psyche - to prove it.
The following story titled "Are Bull Terriers Good With Children?" by Peggy Arnaud appeared in The Bull Terrier Club Of South Australia magazine in February 1994
Are Bull Terriers Good with Children?
Haven't we all been asked this question many times? Yes, if raised with children, a bull terrier is a perfect companion; gentle and aware of the child's fragility. Haven't we all watched a great lump of dog play quietly on the floor with babies, then without warning hurl itself upon an unsuspecting adult with sufficient force to practically land him in the intensive care unit. So I would like to ask this question - Are Bull Terriers Good With Adults? Not one of my dogs has ever laid a tooth on me, but the damage to my person has, over the years been considerable.
One rainy morning I was standing in the driveway watching my husband back out the car when Muffin came flat out around the corner of the house carrying a length of 2 x 4. What she was intending to do with this piece of lumber has never been determined - it is possible that she was becoming bored with the demolition trade and was about to enter the construction business. Turning at her approach, I received the full impact of the wood on my shinbone and was knocked to the ground by the force where I lay screaming with pain and fury. Muff observed this odd behaviour for a moment, then deciding that she had heard all those words before (usually directed at her anyway), she retrieved her wooden weapon, and spinning it around with the grace and agility of a baton twirler, connected neatly with the back of my head as I was attempting to get to my feet. The impact returned me to my previous horizontal position, this time face down. My husband, who witnessed the entire performance informed me later that the timing was superb - worthy of the best Keystone Cops or Marx Brothers. But he delayed his departure, herded the menace into her kennel and inquired through his merriment if I was hurt. Stating I thought I might live long enough to murder the wretched bitch, I was helped to my feet but found I could not put any weight on the injured leg and my scalp was cut and bleeding - so a trip to the accident room of the local hospital was thought advisable.
Being my first visit for emergency treatment, I was not prepared for the volume of information required. Name, address, occupation are routine - but how, when and why!....(I am an obstetrical nurse and our patients are admitted onto the floor with a minimum of questions. We know why they are there, and we know how it happened and we assume the patient knows too, although sometimes one wonders)!
The admitting nurse was efficient and thorough. Vital statistics dealt with came unexpected questions. "Now, how did this accident happen?" "Well," I said, "You see my dog had this big piece of wood in her mouth and she hit me with it."
"Your dog?" "Yes." "I see, - and the head wound?" "Well my dog did that too." "With a piece of wood?" "Yes, - it was the same piece of wood actually." "I see."
"Well," I said, coming quickly to Muffin's defence," of course she didn't mean to, she sort of spun around and she had this piece of wood in her mouth, you see - and, well-she hit me with it - I was sitting in the driveway at the time..."
Our local hospital does not have a psychiatric floor but I could see by the expression on the nurse's face that she was aware of the desperate need for one.
I was X-Rayed, treated amid controlled giggles from the staff, and released.
The next major incident followed swiftly. (Minor ones occur almost daily.) The paddock gate is, of necessity, sturdily built of oak and heavy. It opens inward. Every day I collect each dog after his play period.
I call them from whatever act of mayhem they may be committing, push open the gate and bend down ready to snap on the lead. For three hundred and sixty four days of the year Bloody Mary had galloped to the gate, come around it, and been leashed in the usual fashion. On this particular day,
whether due to a whim, or perhaps because the moon was in Aquarius she chose to project herself at approximately the speed of light from the far corner of the paddock, and instead of coming around the gate, she leapt at it with all the force of her fifty pounds of muscle, slamming it shut on my head. I
went down like a pole-axed ox, and remained down and out long enough for the murdureous beast to remove and eat the bait-biscuits from my pocket - she also removed and apparently ate the pocket. A small hairpiece I was wearing has never been seen again - presumably it was quickly killed and buried. Staggering into a lawn chair I sat holding my head and considering an early retirement from dog breeding, while Mary amused herself by eating the geraniums.
This pastoral scene continued for awhile until my neighbor drove up, took one look at me, and insisted - yes, you guessed it - on a trip to the Emergency Room.
The last thing I wished to do on this earth was return to the hospital where, after the Muffin episode, there exists some doubt as to my sanity - I am known locally as "that kook who lives up on the hill with those funny looking white things she says are dogs". But feeling too sick to argue or resist I was firmly placed in the car and hurried off to my fate.
And so it came to pass that once again I presented myself at the local Emergency Room. Of course, the admitting nurse was the same as before, the staff also. Approaching the desk in embarrassed misery - torn clothing, wild hair, a great lump on my forehead and eyes blackening fast, I am greeted by an obviously wary nurse - "Goodness, Mrs Arnaud, sit down. Whatever happened to you now?" I take a deep breath, (Oh God will get you for this Bloody Mary) and with visions of padded cells looming large in my future, "Well," I said "you see - my dog..."
Are Bull Terriers Good With Children?
Oh yes. They are lovely.
Are Bull Terriers Good With Adults?
Well I am an adult and they are not good with me, and I have the scars - my body, my furniture, and my psyche - to prove it.
Sweetseraph
New member
I think we've all figured out that we aren't all going to agree.
wstphal
working in the Gulag
We can't erase ALL risk from our lives. Now, am I saying that bully breeds should run lose, or that they should be owned by irresponsible people? NO! We need, as bully breed lovers, to advocate & educate & punish irresponsible owners, so that those who ARE responsible can enjoy their big babies, while vastly reducing the risks. It's never going to be zero, because there are other big dogs, and there are big dog breeds that were bred for HUMAN aggression not dog aggression, but it can be better.
The stories & pictures illustrate that these dogs CAN be safe around people. Now we the pibble lovers gotta go out and work to make that the reality as much of the time as possible, so that these dogs pose no more risk than, say, a standard poodle (who is also big enough to do major damage but is not frequently cited as a dangerous breed). I believe this is possible.
ArpeggioAngel
Around Here Somewhere....
Great post! Kinda illustrates the reptile nation fight against the ban on pythons as well. Funny how those things seem to go together - isn't it?
And very right that we cannot eliminate ALL risk from our lives. You are more likely to get in a car accident than to get attacked by a dog - but is anyone here going to stop driving?
animalhouse
New member
lol Naci! Share pics of ure girl! I Wanna see!
Shiari
Blutterer
Of course it doesn't. They're large dogs. But they are no more inherently aggressive, when *properly bred*, than a golden retriever.
Lucille
New member
I disagree, and think your reasoning is circular as well.
wstphal
working in the Gulag
How is it circular to advocate for breeding for well-behaved bully breeds that are selected for lack of human aggression, never breeding dogs that have exhibited any human aggression? Would that not reduce the risk of human aggression? Admittedly, there are a lot of badly bred bully breeds that should have NEVER been allowed to breed. Dog behavior is pretty malleable though, or "generi-dog" would never have been bred to produce breeds that herd, breeds that retrieve, breeds that chase based on sight or scent, breeds that pull sleds, breeds that hunt rats, etc, etc. There may or may not be a lot of AmStaffs out there that were selected specifically for lack of human aggression, but it is possible, and done right, you would end up with a dog with no greater risk value than a golden retriever.
Shiari
Blutterer
And your reasoning is simply lacking. You are failing to attempt to explain why.
They have dog-tame foxes now. They managed this in just a few decades by breeding least aggressive to least aggressive. The foxes became more and more dog-like in each generation. A properly bred bully breed is one that has been bred for personality and drive. They were, for a long time, bred *specifically* to be not human aggressive. Any breed, when over bred, and poorly bred, can turn into a personality nightmare. Just look at cocker spaniels. Many of them are truly nasty now because Lady and the Tramp made them popular. Same with dalmations. In 1979/80 more people were killed by Great Danes that pitbulls. From 1993 to 1998, 30 people were killed by rotties...pitbulls killed 15.
http://enhs.umn.edu/current/6120/bites/dogbitefatal.html
The page I got the information from shows very clearly the first rise in popularity of pits in the 80s, a downward trend, and now one that is up again because of increased popularity AND sheer numbers. If I wanted to, I could go on craigslist and probably get 30 or 40 pitbull pups today.... and 5 border collies and 1 golden retriever. Breeding like that, without regard to temperment or soundness is going to create dogs with behavioural issues... plus many of them are never socialised and instead just chained.
The number of fatalities, despite the increasing population of the united states, and the increasing number of pitbulls, is actually quite small. The number hovers, on any given year, between the high twenties and low thirties. The vast majority of these were unsupervised children. It is a thing of sorrow that anyone is killed by a dog but poor parenting is just as much to blame as the dog.
So, how about you actually consider all sides before being so dismissive? You'll note the bully advocates here HAVE said that a poorly bred, unsocialised pibble can be dangerous... but so can a golden in that situation, or a rottie, or chowchow, or akita, or cattle dog.
Last edited:
Lucille
New member
Advocating is not circular, but all too often when a mauling occurs, one of the 'canned' responses would be to say that it was due to breeding. It seems to be a catch-all excuse at times.
Lucille
New member
Shiari
Blutterer
A good start.
No response to the data I provided? No response to how I showed that breed popularity, and thus over-breeding inferior animals, correlates with bite and fatality statistics? No response to the fact that aggression and lack there of can be easily, and quickly, bred into or out of a population of canines?
Typical.
Circular reasoning is "The bible is right because God says so!.. and God says so right in the bible!"
Pointing out that popularity and poor breeding affect temperment in a dog is far from circular. Like begets like. That's how abbotts okeetees got started. That's how the old school bloods came about... and once they were well known for small clutches, small eggs, and poor feeders... because they were bred for looks rather than health. They were stunning animals, but it was not a good idea. Hence all the outcrossing done now.
ClickClickClickBOOM!
The Maddest Hatter
When you 'disagreement' has no information attacked to it, or even some detailed opinions for that matter, it leads me to believe that you're just here to cause trouble and/or be closed minded so this is the only reply I'm going to give you.
ClickClickClickBOOM!
The Maddest Hatter
Please forgive the VERY bad spelling...I just woke up >< I've corrected it in the quote.