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| Name: |
Diamond
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Age: |
Three months old
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| Gender: |
Female |
Breed: |
Pit Bull Terrier
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| Home: |
Largo, Florida, USA |
My parents and I adopted Diamond on April 27th, 2017, when she was two months old, from Pet Pal Animal Shelter, which is a no-kill shelter in St. Petersburg, Florida. Diamond's mother was actually at first in a high-kill shelter in Florida, but then was rescued by Pet Pal Animal Shelter. It was there at Pet Pal Animal Shelter that Diamond's mother gave birth to nine puppies on February 9th, 2017. At some point, the puppies went to a foster home for some time, and then were placed back into Pet Pal Animal Shelter. The shelter gave the red brindle Pit Bull puppy I now proudly own and love (Diamond) a name, which was Beverly (but of course, she didn't know it). Several days later (probably), that's when my parents and I adopted her. I had found her on Petfinder the day before we went to adopt her, and pointed her out to my parents. They agreed, so we adopted her.
But this story didn't come without a bit of short-lived conflict between my father and I. You see, every Sunday for about two years, my mother and I visited the SPCA Tampa Bay in Largo, Florida, just to see all the animals and give them love. Of course, when my mother and I visited the dog section, they always had plenty of Pit Bulls and Pit Bull mixes there. Before these visits started, my mother and I thought that Pit Bulls (and Rottweilers, too) were mean dogs, but after meeting an extremely sweet Pit Bull at an adoption event once long ago, it really opened my eyes and my mother's eyes, and changed my perception and my mother's perception about supposedly "dangerous dog breeds" (my father wasn't there).
It took me a while, but after going through so many other phases of so many other dog breeds being my favorite breeds, I found that the American Pit Bull Terrier in particular was my favorite breed of all time. But when I talked to my father in the car one day, I surprisingly found out that he absolutely didn't agree. He is a Lab lover, and plus, he had heard lots of bad news stories involving Pit Bulls. He told me, "I just don't trust those dogs." You know, despite watching the Dog Whisperer and actually liking Pit Bulls years ago because of Cesar Millan's information, and he even tried to help a loose Pit Bull that was in our neighborhood one time, which was too scared to go near him.
He even more recently (but before we had the conversation and adopted Diamond) let me pet and hold a Pit Bull puppy at an adoption event (but when I told him that I saw puppies at the other side of the big event and then revealed that they were Pit Bull puppies, he went, "Oh, Pit Bulls..." in that kind of tone, and I was a bit shocked; plus, he didn't seem to want to hold the puppy for too long), but apparently that didn't matter, the media just took over his brain. He already knew I was a big Pit Bull lover, too, and after educating him a lot about Pit Bulls (and I found out he didn't know a lot of things about them), he was a bit surprised at how much I knew about Pit Bulls, and I told him something that he used to tell me for years as a young child, "Don't be a follower, think for yourself!" He knew I was also a pretty credible source of dog information. Both of my parents knew that, actually. My dog obsession began at five years old and I started learning all about them ever since.
Nor does this story not come without sadness. The reason we adopted a puppy in the first place was because on April 19th, 2017, my beloved five-year-old yellow Labrador Retriever, Crystal, had to be euthanized due to beginning to suffer too much every day from lymphoma. We were actually going to wait two more days before Crystal would be euthanized, but she ended up suddenly puking in my mother's bedroom, getting some on me, and in the living room. On top of that, Crystal had stopped eating completely, and hadn't been eating for two or three days; Crystal had lost a lot of weight (it was actually kind of a good thing, I think, that she started out just a few pounds overweight, otherwise she would've been skin and bones before she died). At least we knew that Crystal died happily, not sad and scared. She loved all people, including vets. Crystal even licked the vet's hand as she was giving Crystal the sedation drug (Crystal was sedated before she was euthanized). Crystal was my first dog and my father's first dog to own, and she was our first dog to die.
Sadly, Crystal died only 11 days after the veterinarian diagnosed her with lymphoma, telling us that she could "die any day now." Crystal also died only 16 days before her birthday, which was on Cinco de Mayo. But we all agreed that it was time to let her go. I snapped some pictures and took a video the day before Crystal died, and even still, sometimes I catch myself wishing that I could've given Crystal just a little bit more love right before she died, even though I gave her lots of love. I think I might be still a little emotionally damaged after Crystal's death, since my current emotions are highly unusual for me, but Diamond is proving to be an excellent emotional support puppy. Seriously, she acts like she's already been trained for the job.
Anyways, Diamond is a very smart puppy. At three months old, Diamond is already potty trained and knows how to come, stay, sit, lie down, give me her left paw, give me her right paw, and speak (but she doesn't know the actual word, "speak", I just easily, and accidentally, trained her to bark or playfully growl back at me when I bark at her).
There’s a meme that says, "Whoever said Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend never owned a Pit Bull" to which I would add, "Except if your Pit Bull's name is Diamond!"
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