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This is Galaxy.She is a 70lb XL American Bully.Have you ever seen those dogs that look like pitbulls on steroids? Those are American Bullies.Like most rescues, we adopted her knowing nothing about her. All we knew is that she was sweet, a little assertive, but ungodly calm.Day 2, we realized there was more to her than that. But I have a lot of experience with German Shepherds and Dobermans, so it was relatively easy to teach her the rules, boundaries, and limitations. Within a week, she was perfect.Inside the house.Outside, and with other people, she was a total nervous wreck. Barking, trembling, totally fearful and neurotic. With relatives, friends, everyone.And she had weird little idiosyncrasies, too. Like she was terrified of squeaky toys, and her dog bed, and car rides.It came to a head at the vet. We discovered that she is absolutely, red-zone-phobic of the veterinarian. Which was weird because she was ok with the vet techs.We discovered later that it's the white jacket.I'd never heard a dog scream like that. When she wasn't barking, she was screaming, and all 70 pounds of her tried to hide under my chair, utterly petrified. She got herself so worked up, she made herself sick and vomited all over the floor.We realized that we had to do something. Because I have seen enough fearful dogs to know that eventually, they stop barking and start biting.And we actually had no idea the anti-pitbull thing was still going on. I'd never met a pit I didn't like, but I wasn't over-the-moon about the breeds, either. We got her because she was so calm, not because of her breed.But now we had an utterly psychotic pitbull, right in the middle of the anti-pitbull hysteria. This was a headline waiting to happen.We dropped almost $1,000 on a trainer who specialized in pit bull breeds, we got her to the point that she could handle a vet visit, and we learned some things.She was only 3 when we adopted her, but she'd already been bred multiple times.Her ears are crooked and jagged because they were cut off by a jerk with scissors when she was a puppy.Her jaw has been broken and her trachea has been collapsed.She's been stabbed. Twice.Both of her back legs were deliberately broken and not set properly. She has bad knees and will need surgery, but the treatment and recovery are so brutal, they only do it when the pain gets severe enough to affect quality of life. She's not there yet, so we do glucosamine and chondroitin supplements, and prescription dog food for mobility and joint health.And finding all that out, seeing the irreparable damage done to her, seeing that window into her past, all of her fear and psychosis made sense.So we worked with our trainer, he taught us how to use an e-collar, and we slowly, gradually worked her through her fears.Lots and lots of positive reinforcement to help build her confidence, rigid consistency with rules and boundaries to help her feel more secure, teaching her to look to me when she's nervous (ie, if I'm calm, she should be, too), it was a lot of work. And we could never feel sorry for her or let her get away with anything because of her past.Which, logically, I understand and agree with. Dogs' minds don't work like ours do, and wanting to spoil her with affection to make up for the cruelty she endured would only confuse her. But still, that was hard.It took time, but she got better.She passed the AKC Canine Good Citizen test with flying colors. A few months later, she passed all of the tests and supervised visits to become a therapy dog.She's a perfect family pet. A pretty typical American Bully, as far as breed traits go. Annoyingly clingy, uncompromisingly loyal.She's great with the kid, too.And we routinely take her out with us.The fear of other people is completely gone. Everyone she meets is a potential best friend, and I just found out a few days ago that she has learned what “Is she friendly?” means.She is normally not allowed to walk up and approach anyone until I give her the release word, but as soon as she hears that now, she knows it means she's going to be petted, and she'll walk right up to them, her butt wiggling, and lean against their legs so they can pet her whole body.So that's freaking hilarious, that she learned what that means, but we'll have to work on that. She's not allowed to walk up to people without permission. Especially being a pitbull, I prefer her being under my complete control when I'm out with her.She's still scared of the vet, but no screaming or vomiting anymore, and once or twice a month, I'll drive her to the office just to check her weight (part of helping her knees is to monitor her weight and keep her on the low end of a healthy weight) and the employees behind the desk all love her and will give her treats and pet her.Boarding is tricky. She still has some separation anxiety, and we actually have to walk her back and put her in the kennel, instead of the employees. And they have said that during the first day or so, if someone tries to push her past what she's comfortable with, she'll growl at them. But after that first day, she's more comfortable and better behaved.Other dogs can be tricky, as well. Like most pitbull breeds, she has a strong prey drive, so yippy and frantic small dogs distract her.But as long as we can do a proper, controlled greeting, she's great with other dogs, even small ones. One of her best friends is my friend's tiny little Terrier mix, and Galaxy will just lay there and let the thing chew on her floppy lips and what's left of her ears. It's adorable.Most of her friends now are other pitbulls, though, because we have a weekly “Pitbulls on Parade" outing where we just take the dogs out, not only to let them socialize and experience new people and places, but to also help show people that they aren't inherently dangerous, if you take the time to train them.Will she ever be “normal?”Honestly, I don't think so.She missed out on that crucial socialization when she was a puppy, so I'll always have to watch her around other dogs. I can't ever just take her to a dog park and let her play, her interactions have to be supervised.The vet and boarding will likely always cause her anxiety, which we will always have to be mindful of.Her knees will always be bad, and we'll always have to monitor her activity. Anything high-impact like sprinting or jumping needs to be limited (notice how she's the only dog not on the bench in that picture of 3 dogs).Buying toys is tough, because plushies are her favorite, but if it squeaks, she'll never touch it again, even if you remove or break the squeaker.And have you ever tried finding a dog toy that doesn't squeak? They exist, but they're hard to find.I never leave any dog alone with any child, especially when the dog outweighs the kid by 20 pounds, but I don't let my kid hold the leash at all when we take Galaxy for walks. Posing for a picture is fine, Galaxy has mastered that, but walking in public, where something unexpected could happen? Not even my husband feels comfortable holding her leash.Because she's been well trained, and during the therapy dog test, they actively tried to scare her (if she's in a hospital with a patient and a machine or something falls over, they need to know she won't freak out), but she's still 70 pounds of solid muscle, and my husband doesn't have as much experience with dogs as I do.I mean, granted, we monitor her weight to keep her on the low end of a healthy weight range, so there isn't a lot of fat to cover it, but you can see the muscle definition. And this is just how she naturally is. If she was healthy enough for vigorous exercise, she'd be even bigger.She is STRONG.Which makes it potentially dangerous if something unexpected happens.Perfect example, at Petco a couple weeks ago, someone's small white fluffy dog got out of its collar and started running right toward us.And yeah, I panicked. Because that dog was just charging at Galaxy, full steam ahead, it just wanted to tear Galaxy apart.But the thing was like 8 pounds. Galaxy would snap its spine like a toothpick.All I could think about was the headline.“Vicious, out of control pitbull kills a woman's beloved family member in Petco.”I literally lifted my 70lb dog up off the floor.And then, when the woman had the audacity to LAUGH as she WALKED up to retrieve her glorified rat, I promptly and loudly told her *exactly* what I thought of her, and that I didn't pick my dog up because I cared about the ridiculous fuzzball, I did it to protect MY dog.Her dog could have died, and mine could have been put down, because she was an idiot who thought it was a good idea to bring an aggressive dog to a public place.Because, “Oh well he's just so cute, and it's harmless when a dog that small bites. It doesn't even hurt.”A. If you think that, you shouldn't be in charge of the TV remote, much less the physical, mental, and emotional wellbeing of an animal.And B, DOGS. DON'T. KNOW. THAT.Dogs don't register size like we do. They register energy and body language before size. A small dog has no idea the dog it's charging is bigger.And more importantly, the big dog has no idea the dog charging at it is a harmless anklebiter. In an unfamiliar place, with an unfamiliar dog charging at it, the big dog's flight or fight response will kick in, even if the dog is ten times the attacking dog's size.When the big dog is on a leash and flight isn't an option, I'll give you three guesses how the dog will likely react.Add in severe past abuse and trauma, and even a dog who can play safely with other dogs in supervised environments will react instinctively to defend itself.Which people who have never owned abused dogs don't always understand.Granted, many dog owners are great, and Galaxy has made tons of canine friends at pet stores, of all sizes, breeds, and backgrounds. I've actually been impressed at how great some of these owners are, and how much they know about dog psychology and how dogs communicate with each other.It's always such a huge relief when someone with a smaller dog comes up and a) asks first, to make sure it's safe to introduce the dogs, b) knows how to make their dog greet mine politely, and c) follows through and makes their dog greet mine politely.Whenever that happens, I totally relax, which Galaxy senses. Like, okay, we're good, this is going to be fine.But some owners expect other people to accommodate their horribly behaved dogs. They don't want to train their dogs themselves.And that's something I always have to be mindful of. In a perfect world, where people know how to properly introduce dogs to each other, my dog would be perfect. But it's not a perfect world, and you never know what could happen.I can't trust other people to be responsible dog owners. I have to be prepared for anything, even if that means picking my dog up off the floor.But honestly, it's all worth it.They say you never adopt the dog you want, you adopt the dog you need. And I definitely needed her.I've never had a dog as emotionally in tune with me as she is. If I'm tense and annoyed, she picks up on it and acts out. If I'm out somewhere and she's misbehaving, it reminds me to check my own mood and let go of stress and tension.I had no idea that breed-specific legislation was still a thing, and I learned so much about pitbull breeds that I never knew before. My passion for pitbulls and appropriate pitbull care and training was born when I got her.She taught me to be patient, to accept affection if I'm having a bad day and she gets in her clingy moods. She helps me let go of the day and reset.I never expected her to love being a therapy dog as much as she does. I think maybe it has something to do with the pain and trauma of her own past, but with anyone who is lonely or hurting, she can just make this incredible connection that I've never seen before.Like, “I'm here, and I see you. You're not alone.”That's when she shines, honestly, when she's surrounded by pain or fear.Veterans with horrific injuries and PTSD, shut down by rage and bitterness, she can reach right through their anger and pain, no hesitation, no doubt, she immediately knows what they need and she's there.Lonely, elderly men who can't walk, can barely talk, and want to die, she can ease that loneliness and give them another soul to connect to.She doesn't expect anything from the people she works with. They don't have to talk, they don't have to pretend to be okay, she just lets them be.One vet wouldn't even touch her the first visit. Both legs were gone, he was missing two fingers from one of his hands, with horrible burns on his face. But there was just this angry, raging energy rolling off of him. Like he was one word away from throwing a table at us. I was so sure he didn't want us around, but the nurse pressed him for an answer, and he muttered “Fine.”Galaxy sat next to his chair, without hesitation, and just plopped her head on his thigh.Literally, just plop.And that was it. She didn't move, she didn't mind that he wouldn't touch her (usually she gets impatient and scoots closer when people she wants to pet her aren't petting her). The only movement she made was occasionally tilting her head just enough to look up at him.When we left, I felt so ashamed for intruding on him like that, making him accommodate us.So I was surprised when I went back the next week, the volunteer coordinator asked me to make sure I hit Room #X, that the patient had specifically requested my dog, and when I got there, it was that same man.And he didn't say a word, didn't acknowledge me at all. But this time, when Galaxy put her head in his lap, he rested his hand on top of her head.“I'm here, and I see you. You're not alone.”The next week, it started the same. But then, suddenly, it was like his whole body just deflated. He leaned over, hugging my dog, just sobbing.I was heartbroken. And stunned. I'd never seen anything like that before.But Galaxy wasn't surprised. She just sat there, letting him cry, she didn't move the entire time, didn't even look over at me.Because I wasn't there with them. I didn't exist to them right then. It was just him, just her, just this amazing, pure connection they made together. It was such an intimate, private moment, I felt like I was intruding on them just by being in the room.I still get teary-eyed when I think about it, and this story was an edit of my original answer, because it's hard to type without getting emotional.He has since gone home, is living with his parents, and rescued an American Bully of his own, which he showed me pictures of when he showed up for his physical therapy appointment. Last I heard, she had passed her CGC test and his parents hired a trainer to teach her how to pull his wheelchair, so they can go for runs together.But that connection, I didn't teach Galaxy how to do that. The heeling and the sitting and the staying, I taught her. But not that. That's something she does on her own, not because she's been told to, but because that's just who she is.She's also worked with people with pitbull phobias and victims of pitbull attacks. And the first time we did it, it was such a tense, high-stress, anxious environment, I immediately thought it was a bad idea. I was sure the anxiety and tension would trigger Galaxy's fear, and if Galaxy freaked out, not only would it obviously be bad for her, but that would only make things for the patient worse.But she was incredible. It was this teenage girl who had been bitten by a pitbull when she was like 6 or 7, and decided she wanted to work through her trauma.It took a full hour, a lot of crying, a lot of her being frustrated with herself, a lot of stretching out a violently trembling hand, only to yank it back and move to the other side of the room, but she finally touched Galaxy. And then she petted Galaxy. And then she let Galaxy lick her.And then, because it was emotionally draining and she was exhausted, Galaxy fell asleep with her big blocky head in the girl's lap.Galaxy knew what to do, she knew exactly how to be, she could read this girl in a way I couldn't, the therapist couldn't, in a way no human could. She connected with her. Even when the girl was trembling on the other side of the room, Galaxy was reading her and reacting to her.The therapist never thought the girl would get as far as letting Galaxy lay her head in her lap on the first visit. And I mean, that was the first visit of many, that kind of fear doesn't disappear overnight. But I was amazed at how well Galaxy handled that. Just no hesitation, no fear, no hint of Galaxy's own trauma. She was utterly perfect.I believe that every dog is happier and more fulfilled (as well as better behaved) when they're given a job. But I've never had a dog just throw themselves into a job like Galaxy does.Every week when that vest comes out, man, she's ready. She knows we're going to “work,” she knows she's going to help people (and be spoiled with attention), and she is all about it. She dances around, running to the front door and prancing impatiently, staring at me, like “Come ON, woman! I've been waiting here like 4 whole seconds already! Let's GO!”She loves connecting with and healing people. I don't know how much of that is because of her being her, or a product of the pain and fear of her past. I know dogs don't register trauma the same way we do, so I don't really know how that works.But she loves it. And she loves us. She's unbelievably spoiled, she's a cherished member of our family, and I wouldn't trade her for any other dog in the world.“Normal?”Maybe not. But perfect for our family?100%.

Okay. I have a story for you. And none of this is meant with any hostility, I just want to share an example of why your thinking, while understandable, is flawed.I have a severely abused rescued pitbull, named Galaxy.She is now incredibly well behaved, an AKC titled Canine Good Citizen, and a certified and registered therapy dog. She works with veterans, the elderly, terminally ill children, and victims of pitbull attacks.A couple of weeks ago, I was at Petco with her, and this woman had a small, white, fluffy dog who was crazy aggressive, barking at every other dog there.The dog got out of its collar and came charging toward Galaxy.Because dogs don't register size like we do, they register energy and body language before size. So the little rat dogs have no idea that they're about to attack a dog who could snap their spine like a toothpick.More importantly, the big dog has no idea that the animal charging at it is a harmless anklebiter. All the dog sees is aggression, an incoming attack, and the fight or flight instinct kicks in.Add in severe past abuse and trauma, and that instinct gets ramped up.When the dog is on a leash and flight isn't an option, wanna take a guess how that's going to go?The only thing going through my mind was the evening news headline:“Vicious pitbull murders woman's beloved family member in Petco"I literally lifted my 70lb dog up off the ground, so the glorified rat couldn't reach her, and she couldn't kill it.The woman laughed as she walked up, no rush, no apology, no acknowledgment of the trauma she just caused my dog. She thought it was just too funny.Because “little dogs are harmless. It doesn't hurt when they bite.”Because when a little dog shows anxiety, fear, territorial tendencies, or discomfort that manifests as aggression, it's just too cute. There's no reason to train little dogs so they're not miserable, quivering little balls of anxiety. Because it doesn't hurt when their anxiety takes over their minds and they bite.That should be defined as animal abuse, honestly. I see those trembling, anxious, growling, snarling little dogs and my heart goes out to them. They're miserable, and they don't deserve that. Owners who see that and don't do anything about it are straight-up torturing their dogs. Can you imagine what it would be like to have to live like that, every minute of every day?No wonder so many of them are insane, neurotic, out of control little monsters. And no one cares enough to help them, because “it doesn't matter because it doesn't hurt when a little dog bites."They always ignore the fact that a happy, content, secure dog DOES NOT BITE. And the fact that a dog is aggressive means that it is not happy, content, or secure.But if one of those monsters attacks my perfectly-behaved dog, that I spent years and thousands of dollars training, who's going to be blamed for it? Do you think the news will report that a therapy dog was attacked, or will they report that an “aggressive pitbull” killed a small dog?Because they're animals. They have instincts. If they're threatened, they will defend themselves.But if my pitbull defends herself from an aggressive dog, she's going to be the one blamed.Now, a lot of little dog owners are fantastic, and Galaxy has made plenty of very tiny canine friends. She lets them chew on her lips and ears, and tries to share one of her toys (only one, though. The others, she doesn't share. If her buddy, a tiny little terrier mix, goes for one of her toys, she’ll just pick it up and sit down, holding it in her mouth, so the terrier can't reach it).I've really been impressed, especially recently, with some little dog owners, and their consistency in training their dogs, and making sure their dogs are healthy mentally and emotionally, as well as physically.But some little dog owners suck, and they bring their terrors out in public, and my dog is the one who pays for their stupidity.And I don't trust little dogs at all, for that exact reason, and will not let my daughter around a Chihuahua unless I know the owner and know that the dog is well-behaved. I'd let her around a random German Shepherd, Doberman, or pitbull before I'd let her around a random Chihuahua. Because I've never been bitten by a German Shepherd, Doberman, or pitbull. Wanna take a guess what breed I HAVE been bitten by?Because everyone just thinks it's funny when a little dog is out-of-control aggressive.That fluffy rat dog would have died, which it didn't deserve, and Galaxy would have been put down, which she doesn't deserve, all because the woman was an idiot who can't be bothered to train her poor dog, and thought it was a good idea to take an aggressive dog to a public place.So is it irresponsible for a dog owner to let their small dog run free without a muzzle in a public place? Should they all be forced to muzzle their dogs until they understand that small dogs are still animals, still predators, and need the same training and discipline large dogs do?That's the problem. Blanket statements like that punish the responsible owners who train their dogs, right along with the idiots who abuse theirs.Should you be held responsible for that woman's aggressive dog? Should you be forced to muzzle yours because that dog attacked mine?So why should I be held responsible for the aggressive dog in your neighborhood? Why should I be forced to muzzle mine because that dog attacked Pip?Now, granted, responsible dog owners literally never let their dogs roam neighborhoods freely, without a leash or supervision, so in that specific instance, yes, that large dog owner was incredibly irresponsible, as was Pip's owner. And unfortunately, that irresponsibility ended badly.No dog owner, of any size or breed, should ever let the dog roam freely, without supervision. And where I live, it's straight-up illegal to have any size dog out in public without a leash (except service animals, but therapy animals and emotional support animals still require leashes).I'm actually shocked that two different dog owners in the same neighborhood would be that irresponsible. I can only hope they were the only two and nothing bad happened to any other dogs.

They usually betray themselves. My Mos was one of the smallest groups in the army. It has very specific schools, courses, and timeframes. So when you try to steal valor stick with something basic. 88M 11B etc. me and another Vet friend from Mobile Infantry at Hood we’re hanging out fixing a car. We ran into autozone for a part. I didn’t realize they had a vet discount but the guy at the register overheard our conversation and asked if we were veterans, that they had a discount. I pulled out my license and my VID. He said that the Parts manager was a veteran also, and a Tabbed and scrolled Ranger to boot. To say the least, I was intrigued. I called him over. He offered his hand so I shook it. This very diminutive individual was a Ranger? He was possibly 5’ 3” with a very light scruffy 6th grade mustache and more than obviously trying to remain in shape, round. I did not recall ever seeing him. I remember most people and would like to think I’d remember a Ranger of this size. I am by no means a physical specimen. I am on the average size for my job, but this gentleman was small. I hate to pass judgement without at least a few questions though. So I proceeded, I asked him what his MOS was, to which he replied he was special forces. I smiled. The diminutive Mr. or should I say Sgt. Ricketts had upped the ante. “MOS?”I repeated. Ricketts gave me a confused glance followed by a quick “weapons Sergeant”. I smiled a bit broader. SGT. Ricketts has pushed all in. “Really, that’s awesome! So you were a…. Oh what were they called Hillbilly?” I looked at my companion Spc. Hill questioningly. “18” responded Hill quietly. “Oh yeah, 18 series. No shit! You were a green beret!?! Dang, how long were you in? Did you see any combat?!?” Ricketts sparked up and swelled with confidence, “ 4 years, yup, Af-ga-hany-stan!” “Wow, How long was your training for that?” I asked. “6 weeks at Benning”. I lowered my gaze so Ricketts would not see my anger rise up and then recede. “Benning isn’t that in North Carolina? You know Sand Hill and stuff? Did you have to go to Bragg to complete airborne school?” Ricketts was reaching now, trying to recall some Special Forces documentary he saw on National Geographic when he was a kid. “Yeah I did my jump school after the Green Beret school” “Hmmm. Interesting. So you were an 18…… shit, what is it Hill? There are so many letters, 18Lima?” I stared a hole through Ricketts though I was talking to Hill. “B.. I think” said Hill. “Oh yeah, that’s right.” As if the answer had appeared at eye level in front of me. “Bravo! Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, Zulu. Wow! Well, What was your name and Rank, I missed it?” “Ricketts, Billy, Seargent, First Sergeant..” “Jesus, Ricketts! First Sgt. in four years!?! That’s freaking awesome! How long were you in Hillbilly?” “4years, one combat deployment, Specialist, eagle, out of Ft. Hood” Hill snapped out on cue. “Well, First Shirt, thanks for you service! Feel like I should have you sign something.” I walked out. Hill and I began to get in to his car. I placed my purchase in the back seat and shut the door. Hill, looked at me over the hood. Half pleading, half smiling, “your going back in aren’t you?” “ Yeah, I think I need to clarify things for Mr. Ricketts.”I walked back in with Hill by my side and stood at parade rest waiting for Ricketts to finish with his next customers, after which he approached us at the end of the counter. “Can I help… ya-you again” he choked out. “Well”, I said quietly, “doubtful, just listen” I spoke to Ricketts firmly but just above a whisper. “Listen and do not speak until I ask you to. You were never in the army, in fact, I would hazard a guess that you’ve never been out of Blount county. You were never an 18bravo. Do you know how I know Mr. Ricketts.” The blood receded from his face beginning at the ears and quickly working down, “because I was exactly that. An 18bravo. I became one by way of 11 bravo. I volunteered for Airborne, which is at Benning in Georgia, not Bragg. It consists of three weeks. The last week consisting of 5 qualifying jumps. After completing Airborne I was assigned to the 82nd Airborne 2bt/325. I was here a short period of time. My father a LT. Col in the Marine Corp did me a solid and pushed me towards volunteering for yet another course. This course took place at Ft. Bragg in Fayetteville, NC. It was called SOPC and it lasted almost four weeks, after which I attended SF selection also almost 4 weeks. After being selected I attended the Q course which consists of classroom training at JFKSWCS at Ft. Bragg and several levels of SUT and Weapons training. A foreign language is required Ultimately the course concludes in Pineland in a mock military movement called Robin Sage. If you successfully complete all phases you graduate and are issued your coveted Yarborough Knife and Green beret and are assigned to your group and join them at the regimental supper at the conclusion of the course. Typically the course takes Up to 2 years depending on your Specialty. Medics require a longer school than a weapons Sgt. You never deployed and please don’t ever utter any of these lies again. Both of my sons are named after better men than you. That died in a land far from there home so you could peacefully be the parts manager at An auto parts store. So don’t tarnish there memory by pretending to be something you’re not.” Mr. Ricketts is pale but paying very close attention. “Finally, I did not do this to embarrass you. You work here. I hope you can continue your employment. Be happy with you. There is nothing wrong with being the parts manager here. It’s a good job. I see you’re married? Maybe you’re a dad. Be the best parts manager and dad you can be. Stop glorifying a job you know nothing about. Society does way too much of that already. We are just men who took an oath and were tasked to do a job. That’s it. A job. Be the best parts manager you can be. I will be back to check and see that you have dropped this.” And with that I turned and walked out. Hill high chested behind.That’s one experience but not the only. Society continues to glorify and aggrandize jobs in the special operations community. It creates false hopes in some and absolute lies in others. Quite frankly it is the hardest, dirtiest, most intense and emotionally taxing job any human can have. It removes years from your life and brothers from your side. I would not wish it on my worst enemy but would not trade it for all the money in the world. Just be you folks. Be your best you, no matter what that is.