Ferocious Beasteses

Chris & I get a lot of judgemental looks when people find out that we raise, breed and love American Bullies, a derivative of the American Pit Bull Terrier.  Even my dad, when he first found out, gave me “that look”.  Like, the “I don’t think that is wise, Elizabeth” look.

While I understand that the stereotype given to my furchildren (yes, furchildren – they are, in fact, our babies, too.) is one of snarles and teeth and claws and, OMG! blood!, I must implore upon you that I would never, in any way, put my children in harm’s way by forcing them to cohabitate with a killing machine.  Or 9.  Yes, NINE!

Stop looking at the screen like that.  Pick up your chin.  It’s rude.

Now, the fact that they are giant, cuddly teddy bears should not deter from the fact that they will eat you should you try to rob my house.  Or hurt me.  Or my husband.  Or my children.  Because they will.  I promise.  They are loyal like that.  But, if you are welcome in our home, you remain nothing more than an additional body to stand in front of in hopes that your hand may reach down and scratch a head.  Or tummy.  Or butt.  Especially the butt.

They are wonderful with children.  Yes, you read that right.

THEY ARE WONDERFUL WITH CHILDREN.

Oh, you don’t believe me?  Well….

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Exhibit A:  Madelynn & Luie – BFFs 4-ever

Luie hearts her.  A lot.  He also hearts Meredith. A lot.  Like, enough to give her doggy-back rides around the living room.  In fact, Luie loves everybody.  Especially the laydays.

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Always chasing after girls.

Judge loves the b-word.  (“Ball”, but don’t say it too loud.  He might here you from there.)

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He’s waiting for you to come throw the ball.  And he’ll wait as long as it takes.  All night, if he has to.  ‘Cause you might come out that door at 2 in the morning.  Sadly, Chris has been known to go play ball with Judge in the middle of the night.  He gets tired of the pacing.  It keeps him awake.

Maddy is the most ferocious-looking of the bunch, though she’s the most skiddish and cuddly.  She loves attention and is insta-jealous if it’s being given to someone else.  For example:

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 GiGi was the last to join the family.

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At first glance, she looks like she fell into a bowl of gravy.  Her “ticks” grow on you, though, and her personality makes her, well, beautiful.

GiGi recently surprised us (and by “surprised”, I mean “Holy S%$t!”!) with her own little additions.

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Like this.

SEVEN of them.

On a Tuesday night.

At 10 o’ clock.

“SURPRISE!”

And then there were 12.

We have since found lovely homes for a few of them and currently sit at 9.

They all love each other just as much as they love us.  Behold:

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They’re *gasp!* eating out of *gasp!* the same dish! 

(Okay, there are actually two dishes.  Who wants to be crowded when they eat?  Everybody needs a little elbow room.)

And we have a few angels that watch over the brood.  The first being Luie’s mom, Hallelujah.

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She passed away when Luie was 5 weeks old.  She is missed.  A lot.

And, finally, our Miniature Pit.  Because he didn’t know any different.  Jinx.

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He raised them all from puppies.  And then, too soon, he was gone.  Again, missed.  A lot.

And there you have it.  The monstrosity that is our furfamily.  Complete with teeth and claws.

And belly rubs and doggy-back rides and ball and fetch and naps and snuggles and love.

So. Take that.

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