I WAS in my car with my
one-year old Doberman Zhar, last week, when I heard the horrid news.
My service canine companion, who
accompanies me almost everywhere when I drive, and I were visiting a good friend
in Petaling Jaya when I received an urgent SMS.
Yes, it was the one about the
dog-mauling incident in Subang Jaya where an elderly jogger sadly lost his life
as a result.
At first, the media put the
pooch down as a “pit bull”.
Then, the truth came out later.
The breed was apparently a miniature
bull terrier cross, they said – a dog listed by the Department of Veterinary
Services (DVS) here in Malaysia as a restricted breed.
What this means in simple
English is that the bull terrier is not a dog for anyone and everyone.
Whilst expert overseas sources agree
that the breed isn’t for first-time pet owners, they, however, are quick to point
out that these special terriers – once used as fighting dogs – possesses many
positive characteristics.
Above all things they are said
to be highly affectionate and friendly dogs with a wonderful sense of humour and
relish company.
Bull terriers also have a
physical strength that matches their supreme intelligence. They need to be kept
active all the time.
With such enviable traits it is
no wonder why bull terriers – together with pit bulls – today are increasingly
being used as therapy and service dogs for the handicapped in overseas
countries.
So what went wrong in the Subang
Jaya incident?
There could be a number of
reasons:
1)
Unscrupulous breeding such as mating certain
aggressive natured or shy (fear-biting) animals with each other.
2)
Wrong training and trainer. I am told by experts
that only dogs with a good temperament can be trained for guard and protection
work; never fierce or unpredictable animals.
3)
Irresponsible
owner. Dogs should never be allowed outside its owners’ premises unleashed, let
alone a “guard-trained” canine. The animal will be forced to make decisions by
itself.
The Subang Jaya incident reminds
me of the time in 1994 when another elderly person, a woman, was killed by a Rottweiler
in Kuala Lumpur.
That incident, like the recent
one, drew the same negative reactions.
Suddenly, everyone – including
myself – was terrified of Rottweilers and thought of them as nothing but
“killer dogs.”
My fear and prejudice was based
on my total ignorance of the breed until I ended up with one a few years later.
It was quite by accident when I
wheeled into a pet shop looking for a German Shepherd Dog and came out with a
Rottweiler pup named Vai, because there was no other dog available.
I recall being terrified over my
decision.
Many of my friends were no help
either. They told me that Vai would either “have me for supper” or “pull me off
my wheelchair” when we went for walks.
But it turned out to be the best
“mistake” I had ever done in my life. Vai was the best prescription that any
doctor could have given me to help me with my disability.
The so-called “killer dog”
refused to see my handicap. He insisted on everything from me – from his meals,
bath and going for walks.
So much so I had to stop feeling
sorry for myself and get on with life for a Rottie-in-waiting.
And just like the many
stereotypes that exist about people with disabilities, Vai helped me break all
the myths about so-called “dangerous” and “ferocious” Rottweilers and other
breeds when one cares enough to treat dogs right with plenty of time and affection.
Of course, Vai was fiercely
loyal in taking care of me.
He would bare his fangs and
growl whenever strangers approached me.
But at the same time, within
moments, he would be licking them all over the face when he realised they had
no intention of harming me.
I used to take advantage of this
godsend protection to go wheeling with him in my nearby park at 2am in the
morning.
Anyone who uses a wheelchair
will know how exhilarating such a “freedom exercise” can be when you are stuck
in a wheelchair.
And there were a couple of times
when I was confronted by some bullies on the road in my car for keeping to my
speed limit as a disabled driver.
I wish you could’ve seen the
looks on their faces and how quickly they took off when they suddenly noticed a
huge black and rust coloured “bear” emerge from the back seat to have a clearer
look at the situation.
Vai died a couple of years ago
of cancer at age 13. Now it’s Zhar’s turn to play guardian in my life – something
the remarkable Dobie (another target of stereotypes) is managing with flying
colours.
And let me say this in parting,
that in more than a decade of having my dogs and looking after them solely in
my wheelchair, never once have my dogs walked on the streets or neighbourhood
without me by their side and keeping them close on a leash.
To the able-bodied pet lovers
out there, what’s your excuse?
THE END
No comments:
Post a Comment