The Problem With Pit Bulls

…is humans. But we still need to legislate.

Photo by Lucas Ludwig on Unsplash

I am not a fan of dogs. At all. I think they’re smelly, gross, clumsy, annoying, menacing, needy, and their shit is absolutely disgusting. I never want a dog of my own, and there are only a handful of dogs I’ve ever met that I felt comfortable being around. One of them is a Guide Dog, and they have legal protections — so I kinda have to tolerate him. I can tell straight away if I feel safe around a dog or not, and 99 times out of 100, it’s a nope from me. But that 100th dog is something special. The last such dog I met was a hulking great Staffordshire Bull Terrier while I was waiting for a train in Piccadilly Station.

The strangest thing is that I didn’t even notice him at first, which might say more for my powers of observation than the dog’s nature. I was waiting for the last train, and there were another two boarding on the adjacent platform. I went to sit down on a bench while other people sorted themselves on to the correct carriages. I knew there was someone sat in the space next to mine, but I try to avoid small talk with strangers so I paid them as little regard as possible. But then I noticed their GIANT DOG sat on the floor in front of them. I was a bit nervous at first, but I could tell that this was one of the good ones.

Very unlike me, I turned to his owner and asked, “Is he friendly?” to which they responded that yes, he is — and so I stroked him on the head and he popped his paws up on to my lap (which was a little naughty of him and he did get told off for it). We got into a conversation about how they’d had this dog since he was a puppy and how lucky they’d been to get such a great and friendly dog — especially seeing as the breeder thought it would have a ton of health problems as it was albino. Such is the problem with purebred animals, you might be able to purchase a perfect specimen but its littermates may not have been so lucky. This dog was actually totally fine, surprisingly. Not even any eyesight problems even though he had the classic red eyes of an albino animal. They didn’t make him look as fearsome as they could have, but its docile temperament had more of a bearing on that than its eye colour. It was kind of strange to look at — the palest dog I’ve ever seen; so beautiful, though.

This dog has a combination of accidental good breeding and a good owner, which ensured a fine temperament. And the right owner with the right training is essential for bringing up a well-behaved dog. And that’s the aspect of dog aggression that we do have a lot of control over — but we don’t always get it, and hence we have problem dogs that we unfortunately had to legislate for. I’m strongly in favour of the dangerous dog laws we have in the UK, and I know that’s an unpopular opinion to hold — but those who disagree with me will use the same reasoning that I’ve just mentioned to try to prove my point wrong.

The Dangerous Dogs Act 1991 was introduced as a reaction to several serious attacks by dogs on humans, and it banned four breed types and made it a criminal offence to allow any dog to be dangerously out of control. People hate the legislation because they do not believe that all dogs of particular breeds are dangerous. That is true, but it’s not the issue. The problem is twofold: dogs of the banned type are over-represented in serious attacks on humans, and these breeds are the type most likely to be owned as trophies or attack dogs. The issue is as much about preventing irresponsible owners from getting hold of a dog they cannot control or will mistreat, as it is about banning dogs that have a greater propensity to attack. To put it simply, the majority of us can’t be trusted with these dogs, and so we’re not allowed them. You can still own a ‘banned’ dog if it passes a temperament test and you comply with certain conditions for the entirety of the dog’s life.

Anyway, Staffies aren’t a banned breed, but they do tend to be kept for the same reasons as banned dogs like Pit Bulls, i.e. for status. They have a bit of a reputation, but they’re not deemed dangerous enough to be banned. I wouldn’t say they pose a greater fear for me than any other dog, because it’s the behaviour and body language of a dog that gets me nervous. I’m definitely picking up on something that isn’t actually a threat when I see most dogs. I don’t know quite what it is, but when I see it I know it. In most cases, the dog is under control, so realistically not much is going to happen. But when they’re not, my fears are more justifiable.

Even if a dog is just curious, I don’t want it anywhere near me. I don’t know where my fear comes from but regardless of that, I don’t think it’s right for strange dogs to approach people. As lovely as you think your pooch is, you don’t know someone else’s story, and you don’t know that your dog is going to react well to unfamiliar people — even if they’ve always been fine in the past. In many cases of dog aggression, the owners will say this and consider it an event that could not have been foreseen. But here’s the thing: they should have had the animal under control anyway. We feel like we really know dogs, and we do. There’s a strong bond between dog and owner, and we feel like we can read each other’s intentions and feelings. And we can. But animals are still unpredictable, and they see things that we don’t. Sometimes we overlook signs that were always there before a dog attacks.

The big dog with the pink nose and pink eyes was on a lead, sat at its master’s feet, and wasn’t reacting to every little thing around it. It only approached me with permission, and it remained calm and quiet. This dog is not the problem. It’s dogs that owners can’t control, or let off leads when they really shouldn’t, or neglect and fail to socialise and train. It just so happens that certain breeds are more likely to kill if they have an owner like that, and we can’t be having that danger in our society. It’s all very well saying it’s bad owners, not bad dogs; but when someone’s been maimed or killed that’s immaterial. If we have to ban the dog to prevent that from happening, so be it. Owning a ‘banned’ breed means additional hoops to jump through, but they aren’t impossible standards. It requires:

Proof the dog is not a danger to public safety;

Proof the owner is a ‘fit and proper’ person to be in charge of a dog;

Microchipping and neutering of the dog;

The dog to be on a lead and muzzled while in public;

The dog to be kept securely to prevent escape;

Third-party insurance to cover injury or death caused by the dog;

Up-to-date address details of the dog’s owner and keeper.

You may not like the inconvenience, but a dog of one of the ‘banned’ breeds requires a responsible owner. These dogs are hard work, and they can’t be left with people who will not put in the effort to raise them right. The requirements above are good practice for all dog owners, but we’re only saying they are a legal prerequisite to ownership for the dogs that need the most input re. temperament and gameness. But that then leads to the other main part of the Dangerous Dogs Act — that an owner can be prosecuted, whatever their dog’s breed, if it is dangerously out of control. That’s got to be something everyone can get behind because any dog can be a danger in the wrong hands and we need to target bad owners.

The banned breeds, notably the Pit Bull, were bred for their fighting ability. Humans did this. We created a dog that is a killing machine, and then we wonder why people are concerned about it. We have selectively bred dogs, and just about everything else, to favour certain traits. Now that we have an animal with this one particular trait, defenders of these dogs will claim that this trait has no bearing on aggression. But they were bred for aggression. We acknowledge other traits achieved through selective breeding like intelligence, scent-tracking, speed or size; yet when it comes to aggressive dogs it is downplayed and denied. If you don’t want an aggressive dog, then you shouldn’t choose a banned breed. If you do want an aggressive dog, then you shouldn’t be allowed a banned breed. We should not be encouraging this particular trait.

I love going for walks, but I am very wary of going certain places alone. I live on the edge of the Peak District, yet I do most of my walking in towns and cities because I know there will be dogs off their leads out in the hills and on the moors. As I said above, I just don’t bloody like it. I don’t want other people’s animals approaching me. I avoid public parks, because, again, there will be dogs off the lead and it scares me. Some areas of Manchester are known for dogs being either out on the street or in front yards jumping up at passers-by. I avoid those areas too. And wherever I go, there’ll be dog shit left by some irresponsible owner. Honestly, if we just banned dogs tomorrow, I’d rejoice. But I know that not everyone feels that way and it would be pretty draconian to actually do it. I might hate dogs but I begrudgingly respect others’ right to own them.

The breed-specific legislation that we have isn’t as tough as those opposed to it make out. As long as an owner and their animal follow the rules, there isn’t actually such a thing as a ‘banned breed’ in the UK. And those rules encourage responsible ownership while reinforcing the need for greater work needed with certain dog breeds. These breeds were bred for fighting, and that fighting spirit must be managed. But ultimately, it is humans that bear the responsibility for their dog’s behaviour. The Act also notes that any dog can become a danger if its owner doesn’t take charge of it — and that’s what those opposed to breed-specific legislation will say in opposition to it. The Dangerous Dogs Act covers both the dangerous traits inherent in certain breeds, and dangerous dogs of any breed. And even then, no dog is automatically banned — in fact, the Act gives a framework for responsible dog ownership.

I’m keen to defend the Act because I’m very attuned to poor dog control. I’m scared of dogs, and I’m on high alert if one is within view. A dog is capable of killing a person, and anyone who owns one of the dogs more likely to cause death needs to completely understand and be able to control their pet. It’s not the dog’s fault if it has been brought up badly, but when a dog attacks a person we do need to deal with the dog as well as the person responsible for it. Humans are the problem, and the only mechanisms we have to stop bad humans from becoming bad owners are those focused on the dog’s behaviour. But in the same way that an out-of-control dog can’t be blamed for acting viciously, it also will not understand that it has done wrong and needs to change. Dogs bred and raised for aggression are the way they are, and sadly all we can do is euthanise them if they hurt someone. That possibility should be enough of an incentive to correctly train and socialise a dog, yet some will still choose not to do it. It is those people who are the problem, and who the Dangerous Dogs Act is aimed to restrict.

Everyone thinks their dog is perfect and special and wouldn’t hurt a fly. No dog owner will admit to neglect or poor training. But still, there are dogs which are ill-disciplined and dangerous. The people targeted by breed-specific legislation are the ones who don’t give a crap about their dog’s welfare. We don’t need to be standing up for them. If you so desperately want to own a Pit Bull or a Japanese Tosa, there are legal ways for you to do it. The law is meant to make it harder, because of arseholes using these dogs as weapons and trophies — we should be pleased about this. Humans are the ones responsible for a dog’s conduct, and we should be laying the blame on those who have caused this mess. Instead of blaming the law, let’s blame those who break it. Because it is they who are harming Pit Bulls, not the laws designed to regulate ownership.