The Face of suffering - the evil men do
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Broken
Dog fighters and animal abusers – what a bunch of assholes. You know like Michael Vick, the dick, and his enablers like fucking Nike and the god-damned Eagles. I seem to recall Obama said something about the dog-fighting asshole… “President Obama has voiced his approval of the second chance Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Michael Vick is getting this season, just a year removed from serving 18 months in federal prison on charges related to a dog fighting ring.” (https://www.cbsnews.com/news/obama-lauds-michael-vicks-second-chance/ ) 44 displeased me with his support for Vick (I salute Colin Kaepernick – that’s a QB I can support). And I will tell you why – Atticus the wonderful big pitbull whom I loved in his short life was an abused dog. Not by Vick but by men of his ilk. I wonder how Obama would feel if his dog had been abused? Atticus did not get a second chance.
Atticus was wonderful with his soft velvety skin, a beautiful creature with sad, soulful eyes, his worried demeanor, even his cowering in the corner or bathroom – afraid of men – I miss everything about him dearly. You see the 90-pound Atticus was abused, eventually thrown out of a car or truck, and finally adopted by a couple in LA for three years. Sadly the wife died of cancer and the husband, also suffering from a deadly disease, could no longer take care of Atticus.
My best friend stepped in and adopted Atticus in January 2019 even though Atticus too was diagnosed with a shitty cancer that ultimately would be the cause of his untimely death. They expected a year I seem to recall and he did not even get that. Atticus was a fearful giant – so horribly abused that his personality was shattered beyond repair. There were glimmers of kindness, a gentleness within, but still fear was an overriding issue for him.
Atticus
I dog sat him twice for long periods of time along with his brother and sister… I hand-fed him a few times but mostly I gave him his bowl of food in the bathroom from where he could watch the activities in the living room… safe, but sad to witness. He let me hug him however – probably paralyzed by fear – but I hoped not.
Fortunately, he had great company the last few months of his short life - a little crippled bully with way too big a personality, and a senile old grand dame Akita (probably the greatest being I have ever known) – all rescues. They made an odd team but Atticus would somehow manage to climb into the car and go for something resembling walks with his dog family. I think he was fearful every time he had to get into the car.
Atticus was amazing with the vets and the great techs. Perhaps, he knew they were there to help or maybe he just had surrendered his fate to whatever came his way. He survived his spleen removal - he had a stromal sarcoma on his spleen - but the cancer had microscopically spread to his liver, which became apparent a few months later during a follow up ultrasound of his liver.
Atticus was euthanized at his home on September 5, 2019, shortly after his Akita sister died. I was not there. I hope he knew he was loved. I miss him terribly.
