Pit Bull

Thanks for letting me tell my side. I feel real bad about what happened. With Ronnie and the girl and Conan and everything. I’ll tell you the whole story, and how the deaths came about and everyone’s life got ruined, including mine.

I passed by the dog every day on my way to work and then going home. I liked the dollar store. Talking to the customers. Helping them find things they were looking for. You could tell they didn’t have much money, the way they’d look at things like they wanted them then put them back on the shelves. I felt real bad for them, the way I felt bad for the dog.

He was light brown, like milk chocolate with too much milk in it. Except on his chest he had a patch of white in the shape of a diamond. He’d stretch his ears out so they looked like wings. Like he wanted to take off. Escape.

I couldn’t blame him. A wire ran between two trees with a cord attached to the wire. That way he could move a little between the trees. But sometimes he wrapped himself around a tree and got stuck. He yelped like he was crying for help. The first time I saw him like that, I walked up to him. He was so happy to see me. That little stump of a tail was wagging, and he jumped on me like he wanted to give me a big old hug. I got him unwound.

After that, every time I passed by, he’d bark this friendly bark, like he wanted me to stop and say hello. I’d sit on the grass with him. Especially after work. He had a bowl of water but sometimes in the afternoon it was empty. So I’d bring water for him. I got doggie treats to give him, too. He’d still be outside at night, with this really sad look until he saw me.

You can see how we got attached to each other, can’t you? I mean, he was lonely and bored. No one paying any attention to him except me. I was with the dog one afternoon when this guy pulled up in the driveway. I asked him what the deal was. He said his name was Conan. The dog, I mean. He said Conan once belonged to a neighbor but played too rough with their kids. Knocked a little one over. I mean, he was just being friendly. The way he’d jump on me, if I was a little kid, he would have knocked me over, too.

The neighbors asked the guy if he’d take Conan. He didn’t really want a dog. The first time he took Conan into the house, Conan ran at one of his cats like he was going to rip it apart. The cat hid under the bed. When the guy tried to drag the Conan away, he bit him.

That sealed Conan’s fate. The guy set up a doghouse and the line between the trees. He fed Conan and stuff, but the dog was pretty much left alone. And he wasn’t a dog that wanted to be left alone. He wanted company. He wanted to be loved.

Conan was a lot like me. His first owners abandoned him, like mine did. I was told my mother was sixteen when she had me. She gave me up for adoption. Which worked out, except that after a few years my adopted mother got real sick. They sent me off for foster placement until she got better. But she died, which made me real sad. I cried for a long time. The foster family kept me for a while. Then I got sent to other ones.
You see? Me and Conan were both orphans. So I started thinking how we belonged together. One evening I knocked on the guy’s door. I asked him if it would be okay if I took Conan and gave him a home. The guy said I’d be doing him and Conan a favor.

Maybe I should have asked Ronnie before bringing Conan home. I mean, I told her all about him. How I’d bring him water and treats and play with him. How loving he was. She always said one of the things she liked about me was my big heart. How I would help people if they needed help. Like if I saw someone trying to lift something too heavy for them.

Ronnie was twenty-four, same as me, but she lived with her parents. Saving up money. She spent weekends at my apartment. That’s why I should have said something. I mean, having a dog in a tiny one bedroom like that, there’s not a lot of room. Ronnie said I should have thought about her more than about Conan. Maybe she was right, but it was Conan who needed a home, not her.

Ronnie said I was special to her, but the one who really made me feel special was Conan. I think Ronnie needed someone around like me, who was kind of depressed so she’d have someone to take care of. She was the mothering type. But when no one cared for you as a child, it’s sort of too late. Ronnie would hold me and say nice things. But I had this wall around me. Ronnie was on the other side.

With Conan it was different. I loved Conan like I never loved anyone before. And Conan knew it and loved me back. We were both happy.

He was real happy to meet Ronnie, too. He jumped on her the way he would. She didn’t appreciate it so much. She petted him, and he got down on his back so she could rub his belly. Which she did. I mean, she liked him and everything, and he liked her.

What Ronnie wanted to know was, how was I going to take care of a dog when I worked five days a week? I hadn’t figured that part out. I found a dog walker who didn’t live too far. She was the cheapest one but she was still expensive. Well, she walked him a few times and that was it. She said he was too much to handle. Jumped on people. Tried to attack other dogs. So I had to find another dog walker. She was even more expensive. He couldn’t be alone for hours and hours so I had to cut back on work.

Conan needed a harness and a good leash. Kibble and canned dog food and doggie treats. For a dog that size he really ate a lot. And I had to take him to the vet. All he needed was a rabies booster. But the vet said he had to do an initial exam first. Like a regular doctor with a new patient. The vet was super expensive, too.
The first of the month came around. I didn’t have enough to pay the rent. The manager of the complex sent me reminders. The third one was kind of nasty. Ronnie said I couldn’t afford to keep Conan, but I couldn’t let him go. It would have been like giving up a part of me. A hand or a foot or something. I asked around, but none of my friends needed a roommate. Especially one with a dog.

I sold all my stuff. I had to give some to Goodwill because no one wanted it. I skipped out on the lease. You’ll probably say that shows a lack of responsibility. But what’s more important—being responsible to some big corporation that owns a huge apartment complex or to your dog?

Living in my car was tough. I’d sleep in back seat on piles of stuff and Conan would be in the front. I’d wake up early and take him for a walk. Then he had stay in the car, which made me feel real bad, but I’d walk him when I had a break. Also during lunch.

I went to Ronnie’s on the weekends, so I could shower and do my laundry. Her parents didn’t want the dog inside, though. Ronnie wasn’t too happy with me, either. I saw I couldn’t keep on like that. I mean, it was spring, and the weather was cool, but you can’t leave a dog in the car when it gets hot.

Ronnie warned me I was ruining my life over the dog, and said I should take the dog to The Humane Society, and they’d find another home for him. I thought how it would be easier for me if I did that. I drove over there, but then couldn’t go through with it.

I still don’t understand what happened with Ronnie. They always got along, Ronnie and Conan, I mean. We were on a walk, the three of us. I had Conan on a leash and everything. There was another guy walking towards us with his dog, and Conan went nuts. Tried to get at him. I was holding him back on the leash, and Ronnie was trying to calm him down. He turned on her. Sank his teeth into her arm, then went for her leg. She tried pulling away and fell down. Conan was tearing at her until I got him off, which wasn’t easy. Her arm was bleeding. She pulled up her jeans and her leg was all torn up.

It was a bad scene. Conan was growling at Ronnie, and I was holding him back, and Ronnie was screaming, all hysterical and everything. I called her father and he came and took her to the emergency room.

She spent a whole day in the hospital. I was worried sick the whole time. She came back the next day all bandaged up and using crutches. The doctor said her leg would never be the same, and she’d have a limp the rest of her life. I felt real bad about that. Her father told me he reported the attack to the city and I had to put Conan down. He was too vicious. The Humane Society wouldn’t take an aggressive dog.
I couldn’t give up Conan. He needed me. I needed him, too.

We had to go somewhere where we could be together, and Conan could run around free without putting anyone in danger. Dogs or people. I only had a few hundred dollars in the bank. Ronnie’s father kept his wallet on his nightstand, so when I went to the bathroom I snuck into their bedroom and took his Visa. Then I left. Ronnie said not to call unless I got rid of Conan. The whole thing made me real sad.

Conan was waiting in the car. I figured I had at least until morning before Ronnie’s dad realized what happened. I filled up with gas and drove for a few hours on the interstate, then pulled off at a rest stop to sleep. In the morning I went to a Walmart. I bought everything I needed. Food for me, more dogfood. A tent and sleeping bag and a camping stove. I figured I’d call later and tell Ronnie’s dad I’d pay him back as soon as I could.

I don’t want you to think I’m a bad person. It’s not like I’m a criminal or anything. I never stole anything before that credit card. I know it wasn’t right. Ronnie and her parents trusted me, and I’m sure they felt betrayed. But I was thinking of Conan. What else could I do?

I was heading to Arizona or New Mexico. They got desert there. There’s lots of open space in the desert. I figured I’d find a job where I wasn’t around other people. Conan would never see another person or dog, and we’d both be happy.

Conan’s window was down so he could stick his head out the way dogs like to do. The road noise was real loud. I pulled off for lunch at a MacDonald’s and gave Conan a can of his food.

A big field stretched out behind the MacDonald’s. All wild grass and weeds. I could hear the highway noise on one side. Ahead and on the other side were trees. I let him off the leash out there. He started sniffing all around, working that nose of his overtime, and we wandered around for a while until he found a trail that went through the woods.

I followed him. The woods were nice. Everything was cool and green, and the sunlight came through the leaves and made patterns on the ground. The path came out in someone’s backyard with a swing set and sandbox and toys. This little girl came out of the house and got real happy when she saw Conan. She ran to him. Her mother came out the door, too, and told the little girl to come back. But she wasn’t listening. She was shouting, “Doggie, doggie,” over and over. Running to Conan all excited and everything. Conan got scared. I mean, someone coming at him waving her arms and making all this noise.

Conan charged at her. It was scary as all get-out. I ran after him shouting, “No, Conan, no Conan,” and the girl’s mother was running towards us, and she was shouting, too. Conan lunged at the little kid and knocked her down. Then he was on top of her making horrible growling sounds. I couldn’t see what was happening but the girl’s screams were awful. Conan bit my hand as I was pulling him off. By then, the girl wasn’t making any more noise. The mother got there and picked her up, and then her father came running out with a gun. I got Conan on the leash. He was still pulling at it hard and barking like he wasn’t done yet. My hand hurt real bad and it was bleeding like crazy. There was a lot of blood on the girl, too, but she was totally still and silent.
I don’t think what the father did was right. Whatever had been done to his child was over. But he looked at his little girl and pointed the gun at Conan’s head. I shouted, “No, no, don’t.” There was a big bang and Conan went down in a heap. I got on my knees next to him, crying with my hand all bleeding and everything.

I’m real sorry the girl died. I’m sorry for her parents. I’m sorry for Conan, too. He was a good dog, and it wasn’t really his fault. I mean, he didn’t understand that the kid was just excited. I’m sorry for me, too. I lost the best friend I ever had. All I wanted was to love and be loved. That’s pretty normal, don’t you think? And the girl’s parents. They had a little kid and they didn’t even have a fence around their yard. That wasn’t too responsible if you ask me.

Well, that’s it, Judge. I don’t get why the probation officer wants me to go to prison. It’s not like I did anything wrong. The whole thing wasn’t even my fault. You can see that, can’t you?