I knew that that I was hurting the dogs that were trained to do the same thing the human was making me do, but I didn’t understand why the humans thought it fun to watch us tear each other apart.
I couldn’t stop fighting because they would make my life harder than it was all ready. So far I had won every fight and every time I won I killed the poor dog, it would save him extra pain of his cruel owner.
Master kept up my training with the most powerful male in his kennel, Ace.
Every time he put me in the ring to fight Ace I did just that and I beat him every time. Ace held great respect for me because I was the only one to ever beat him.
One night in my 4th year of being forced to fight; my temper was to its limit. Master came as usual but this time when he reached inside to get me I bit his hand hard and tasted the cold metallic taste of blood flooding my mouth.
At his cry of pain the kennel went silent. He let out a string of curse words and left for 5 minutes then was back with a .20 gauge shotgun, pointed straight at me. I didn’t flinch and stared at him with unwavering hatred.
As his finger on the trigger tightened and the door burst open and the room was flooded with police officers. They handcuffed Master and threw him in their car.
“Don’t fight! Their here to help! Don’t snap or do anything that might threaten them! They can help us!” I yelled in dog to the dogs, they all listened to me.
They came and took us out one by one and put us in a truck. They then drove us to a place where we were supposed to be “happy”. It was almost as bad as the kennel.
YOU ARE READING
My Life as an Abused Pitbull (On Hold)
Storie breviWe all think of pitbulls as a big CAUTION Sign basically. We think they will hurt us. We think that they are born killers. But have you ever actually thought that they weren't born for killing? But born for something greater? Well this is the story...
