I’m coming back from Gristides on what I refer to as, old day, when if you’re 62 and over get 10% off all items.
So there I am with my Motts Unsweetened Apple Sauce and Cage Free Jumbo Eggs, when I see a Pitbull with a head like a regulation basket ball tied up in front of the T-Mobile store, casually stopping traffic.
He is by far, one of the handsomest dogs I have ever seen inspiring me to kneel down, my palm open in friendship he immediately licks letting me know he’s friendly too.
I also know, if he was anything but, his owner would never leave him unattended, or at least lets hope.
I peek in the store and see right away who he belongs to. A handsome 35 year-old or so Latino man with muscles that could go on tour.
So I pop in and say, “Is he yours?” He gives me what I can only call a tolerant nod.
“Well he’s really beautiful.” He ignores me.
“You don’t often see Pits that size.”
“That’s because he’s not a Pit,” he says, showing irritation. “He’s an American Staffordshire Terrier.”
“Well, excuse my error. So he’s a Staffie then.”
“No, he’s an American Staffordshire Terrier. We don’t use nicknames.”
I go back out and the dog now has a crowd admiring him because you just can’t help it. His width, rivaling a calf with a face that just could make you weep, makes him s show stopper.
I pop in the store again, all mirth and merriment and ask, “Did you adopt him?”
“NO, he’s is not adopted,” he snaps, as if this was insulting, which in my book would make him heroic because now I know his clipped ears were done deliberately to show off the breed.
They do this because the breed itself is known for a particular look. Totally gets my fur up, like the animal really needs to be accessorized.
Did I mention he still had balls the size of Ring Dings?
Another sign I didn’t like because it’s better for the dog to be neutered, but of course, if you do the math, Louis Latino, a perfect name for him, now fighting with the T-mobile kid who keeps telling him there’s a store in the Bronx, would take it as a personal affront having those babies whacked off.
I am now crouched, petting Apollo, whose name is emblazoned across his studded collar in sapphire blue. There’s also a well-dressed business man and an African American woman with a ten year-old boy alongside me, charmed as can be.
Apollo could run for office, he’s that sweet, but cowers a bit when Louis Latino, his diamond earring glistening in the noontime sun comes out to say in a voice that could’a clipped those balls, “Stop pettin’ my dog. He’s just a baby and hasn’t learned certain things yet.”
Joan of Bark says, Apollo’s massive head happily resting in her lap,”What else does he need to learn? He’s polite, gentle, sweet, sits, shakes hands, besides, you can’t leave him out and expect people not to stop. He’s just too beautiful.”
“And friendly,” says the kid.
“And so big,” chimed in the woman.
“Louis snaps, “Well, he’s gonna get even bigger.” That’s when the business man, clearly smarter than the rest of us, takes off.
The kid, who is next to me on his knees petting Apollo as if he were Lassie says, “Are ya kiddin’, he’s gonna get even bigger. WOW…you should bring him to my school on show-and-tell day, cause no one’s gonna believe it when I tell’em.”
You gotta love kids.
To Louis’s credit, he smiles. So then I say, “Just so you know, me and Apollo are gonna be dating.”
Everyone laughs, but Louis, even Apollo, who seems to like the idea. 🙂 This is a kind of what he looked like…courtesy of Google Images