More specifically: A Pit Bull Eat Chihuahua World

On February 22, 2010, at dawn, I decided I wanted to take a walk before doing anything else. So I put on my running shoes, put the leash and harness on little Nai’a (pronounced Ni-ah), and off we went. I had Nai’a on her leash as we walked down the driveway to the highway. We had almost reached the neighbor’s driveway when suddenly a monstrous dog was trying to attack Nai’a from behind. He didn’t know where the dog came from. I turned around when I realized what was happening and yelled for help. Round and round we went. I didn’t know at the time that he was a purebred Pit Bull. I just knew that I wanted to kill my dog ​​and had no idea how to help Nai’a. I learned by trial and error months ago that picking up a puppy puts the puppy in a worse position. He can’t get away and the other dog can easily get to her, but when I learned that lesson months ago, the other dog wasn’t trying to hurt Nai’a. She was just sniffing a little too loudly.

I didn’t know what to do and no one came to my aid. I tried to think as she screamed and screamed, dragging Nai’a in circles with me. I finally had a productive thought. I kicked the attacking dog in the stomach with all the force I could muster. The dog didn’t even stop for a millisecond. I just wanted to kill my nine pound white dog. Everything was a blur, but I knew when the huge dog clamped his jaw against my little dog and I knew when he started shaking Nai’a violently from side to side. He couldn’t let go of the leash and let Nai’a get chewed up like a hamburger. I felt so much guilt for not being able to rescue my dear little companion. I can’t adequately explain how bad I felt about that. After what seemed like an eternity, still screaming for help, a young man ran out of the house next door. He ran toward us, yanking the dark, violent dog by its collar and pulling it away from Nai’a. Thank God for strong and brave young people. As he pulled the dog up and away, the dog released Nai’a. Immediately, I picked Nai’a up with my left arm. She had been crying and howling the whole time, but when I picked her up, she let out a dog-like cry and a moment later, due to her shock, she bit my left hand while I tried to keep it steady on my left arm. She was drifting in and out of consciousness once the other dog had taken off. I was trying so hard not to pass out, hit my head on the pavement, and fail my dog ​​all over again.

Another man, Rick, ran out of his house at that time. He told me to put a towel on Nai’a to keep her warm. I walked through the side door with Nai’a biting my left hand. She was too terrified to let him go. I didn’t know if that dog was going to come back. When I tried to remove my hand from Nai’a’s mouth, she bit down harder. I heard a man on the street yell at Rick that it was the blonde woman’s fault. I heard the man yell something about getting a gun and shooting people. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. This was a nice residential neighborhood. I felt like I might be dreaming and needed to wake up.

Finally, Nai’a let go of my hand with her jaw as I laid her down on the backyard grass with a towel covering her. I felt lucky that there was a towel lying on the sun lounger. I spoke to Nai’a in a low voice as she gently stroked her forehead and front legs. She was terrified. I stayed with her. Rick had come to the backyard to say that he was calling to see if a vet was open so early in the morning. He came to Urgent Care at the Central Maui Animal Clinic and told them that we would bring Nai’a.

I left Nai’a alone for three seconds to get my cell phone out from inside the sliding door. I wanted to see if Priscilla, my daughter, could find me at the vet. Nai’a took advantage of that moment to enter the house and try to find safety in the bedroom. She bled all over the floor and carpet. Her intestines were beginning to show through the wounds on her abdomen. I covered her with the towel again and let her lie down in the bedroom. Rick was ready to give us a lift, so I tried to pick Nai’a up again. She screamed in pain. Rick said, “Put a big towel over his head and body.” That worked. I put her in the car and Rick drove us the seven miles to Nai’a’s vet with Nai’a looking at me the whole time.

When we got to the animal clinic, Rick ran in to tell them we were there. A confident vet tech came out. He placed a cloth muzzle over Nai’a’s face, then gently lifted her up and carried her into the building for immediate pain medication. He was so thankful.

The vet came out to talk to me. He asked me to sign a consent for an x-ray. When the doctor came out a few minutes later, she had the list of injuries and costs on a printout. She explained that she could probably repair the damage as long as the bladder was not involved. She said they wouldn’t know until the surgery starts. The cost of surgery and care was going to be very high, and that was if the bladder was not involved and if an infection did not occur.

I went out to the empty parking lot to cry. The sun had risen over Haleakala Ridge. I tried calling Bob at work, but got no answer. I cryed and cryed.

The vet tech assistant came out and said that the doctor asked her to tell me that whatever I decide is not wrong. She said that Nai’a’s spirit might be broken. She had never heard that expression in regards to an animal, but, essentially, that is what she had been feeling and crying about. She knew that Nai’a would be too scared now to go anywhere. She would be afraid to walk out the backyard gate by herself. She wouldn’t want to go for a walk. After that horrible attack, she KNEW she couldn’t protect her. She knew it was a dog eat dog world and now I knew it too. She could get pepper spray, but she wouldn’t know that she has extra protection. She would spend her life in fear, and that’s assuming the doctor could cure her and she had no complications.

I decided to let the doctor give Nai’a the fatal injection that I hope with all my heart would send her to a beautiful place where I would see her again… one day. I think it’s like that, for good people. I trust it must be so for animals.

Priscilla and two of my grandchildren, Jesse and Kalisi, and Nai’a’s dog friend Tika were with me when the doctor came in to give me the injection. By this time, he had spent 20 minutes in the room alone with Nai’a before Priscilla and the children arrived. I stroked Nai’a’s forehead and paws and told her that she is a very good dog. She had a small towel over her chest and stomach where her entrails hung out of her. She continually looked me in the eyes of her. And even with strong pain medicine, if she walked 10 inches out of her sight to get another Kleenex, she would moan and howl in fear.

I miss her so much. I miss her presence. I miss your patience. When we were home, he would always watch me silently, waiting for some hint that we were going to go out in the car or go for a walk. She loved to get in the backseat of the car while I fed the chickens on Piikea Street or the wild cats from all over the town. Nai’a had enjoyed her walks on the beach, along the avenues, through the parks. She especially loved life when we were at the Kenolio Dog Park in the evenings when only her best canine friends were there. She would then release her to run. She was the fastest. She was running so fast that she seemed to bounce and skim the surface of the grass like a dolphin bounces and skims the surface of the water. That was why Priscilla had called her Nai’a. Nai’a means dolphin in Hawaiian.

To his credit, the pit bull’s owners took him to the Maui Humane Society an hour after the attack and asked that he be euthanized. They admitted that it was not the first time their dog had attacked a small dog. He later learned from the lady who had him that they had kept him in chains for the two years of his life. Her wife and her husband went out to work all day, five days a week. Within a couple of days, February 22 being one of them, her dog had managed to get loose.

I’m not mad. I’m sure pit bull lovers would like me to be saddened by that poor pit bull who, through no fault of his own, hadn’t been properly socialized. I haven’t gotten to that point yet: maybe one day. For now, I’m sad that Nai’a is no longer here. I can only find solace in the thought that none of the little boys on this street were attacked instead.

I have two suggestions for anyone thinking of getting a dog, if it’s not a pit bull or a pit bull mix. I suggest you stay home with your dogs and never take them for a walk. That is the safest solution. Nope? Well my second suggestion then is this. If a person has a dog that they really want to protect, he needs to have an individual plan for the kind of emergency that can arise as quickly as it did for Nai’a. Had I had a can of pepper spray in my free hand, I could have sprayed the pit bull in the eyes and safely escaped with my dog. Certainly, yes, Nai’a could have gotten something in her eyes without realizing it, but she would have survived. There are other products besides pepper spray that will not kill the aggressive dog, but will cause them enough pain that they will forget the desire to kill their dog. Pepper spray would be an option.

If there’s a better solution out there, I’d like to hear about it. I will not have another dog. Even if I were to buy the biggest and best trained dog on the island and even if I were to take lessons to become the best large dog owner and trainer, I don’t think the dog would stand a chance against a pit bull that hasn’t been properly socialized and who runs towards my dog, with the intention of one thing: to kill him.

There are hundreds of pit bulls and pit bull mixes here in Maui. Supposedly, the dogs are bred here to hunt wild boar in the interior of the country, but for the most part, the people here who buy purebred or mongrel pit bulls, and those who breed them here, do so to boost their ego. They think it’s something, I don’t know what, but it’s kind of a special feeling to have this pit bull in the family home or on the property.

I think the real solution lies in mandatory certified obedience classes for pit bulls and pit bull mixes once a year. I think there should also be a checklist of the socialization skills that the dog is progressing in the first year and is being evaluated, every year, for the social behavior of the dog. If the pit bull or pit bull-half-mix dog cannot pass the obedience training and socialized behavior sessions, he is not safe to be around and should be euthanized. Chaining them is not the solution. Just ask Nai’a.