It involves, me, a white shirt and a baby pit bull.
This is a TRUE STORY I call
WHITE SHIRT . . . BLACK . . .
Up until two years ago I had a beautiful pit bull named Lady. Who really thought she was royalty. She died two months after I got out of the hospital at 11 years old. She was a great dog, a great friend and never left my side during my recovery.
This is the story of her as a little baby, and how she marked me as her territory.
I used to work at a Social Security payee office, handling funds for mentally ill and homeless people on SSI. One of my co-worker was a licensed pit bull dog breeder, who breed pure breed pit bulls for shows. In fact my Lady was registered with the Kennel Club of London.
Well, one day one she went home to find that one of her dogs was pregnant, an unplanned pregnancy as well. The dog gave birth to seven puppies. Unfortunately the mother died the next day due to complications and two puppies still born inside her.
Since the mother died and this was unplanned my co-worker brought the little angles into our small seven-person office and we all took turns caring for the puppies. I spent six weeks everyday day doing my job, while carrying around little puppies and feeding them with bottles.
She asked me if I wanted one of the puppies, and I jumped at it. Because my dad was Air Force, I never had a dog growing up, we moved around too much. I chose the one I had first started feeding and named him Max.
He died two days later due to an infection in his duclaw.
Heartbroken, I decided not to take one of the puppies.
I still cared for them though, and loved them.
Then one morning I came to work wearing a brand new, pure bright white t-shirt. I picked up a little puppy that would become Lady, cradled her and started feeding her. I held her to my chest while walking to the break room to get a drink when I felt this warm sensation down my chest.
I look down, saw little Lady, whose eyes weren’t even open yet, sucking on the bottle. I lift her up . . .
The little girl had POOPED all over my shirt.
I had Lady’s poop running down my shirt. She went to the bathroom on me while I was feeding her!
I handing her off to one of my co-workers and rushed to the bathroom. The shirt was totaled, but I preceded to scrub my chest down with some and water. Yes, I know it was a pup, but it was still feces. For the rest of the day I ended up wearing a size to small shirt from our in house donations.
Lady marked me for life.
A few day later, I was feeding her again when she finally opened her eyes. When she hit six weeks, I took the little shit home.
Ace.
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