A Tail of Two Pit Bulls.

The year was 1998. I was living a decadent and careless lifestyle in West Hollywood, California and my primary concerns were with material things, partying and keeping up appearances. Truth be told I was in a very dark place and at a point in my life where there was either going to be a catalyst for change to help me turn things around, or I was going to spiral out of control. Looking back on it now, my addiction and reckless lifestyle had already started me down a path of self-destruction – I just refused to acknowledge it.
 
It was a mid-Friday afternoon, and I was at work in sunny Santa Monica when I received a voice message from my friend Moneypenny. Yep, that was her last name, but I just called her “Money” for short.  Her message rambled on for a few moments and it wasn’t anything that captured my attention until shortly before she hung up. I remember her saying, “you have to call me back. I want to tell you about these two little abandoned puppies hanging out near my work.” At the time I thought it odd. Money was the type of person that stray animals always seemed to gravitate to, and she’d always take them in.  Why was she calling me and not helping these pups?  

My mind was really more on the impending weekend and what I was going to wear out to the bars that night, but I called her back. She proceeded to tell me about two pit bull puppies that had been hanging out near her workplace for a few weeks – one looked to have an injured leg. I got the location from her. Money lived a stereotypical LA kind of life and worked in the Fashion District of downtown Los Angeles. I don’t know what I was thinking. I had never had dogs. I had no experience with or knowledge of pit bulls, and I was living in a rental that didn’t allow pets. But a voice in my head was telling me I had to help these dogs (or maybe I was just looking for an excuse to leave work early on a Friday afternoon).
 
I wasn’t that familiar with downtown Los Angeles. Unless you worked there, there was no good reason to go downtown. I hopped in my little two-seater Miata and headed down the 
Santa Monica Freeway and my hunt was on to find two wandering pit bulls. I had no plan other than grabbing some left-over Chinese food from the breakroom – who’s it was I have no idea, to try to coax the pups should I end up finding them. I exited I-10 into downtown Los Angeles. 
 
For nearly two hours I drove around downtown LA with no luck in coming across any homeless animals. Homeless people yes. Pit bull puppies no. I didn’t know where I was, and I couldn’t get ahold of my friend Money. I tried calling multiple times on my digital Motorola phone - the cellular revolution was really just beginning and most of us were still using land lines – but had no luck getting her on the phone. What was going through my mind at the time was this; “I’m lost, I have no idea how to care for dogs and I can’t even have them in my apartment anyway. This is a fruitless endeavor.” By this time, it was dark and I had given up. I saw a sign for the Freeway on-ramp and decided it was time to head home.  
 
As I turned the corner, there was one of the pups standing on the sidewalk, tail wagging, as if she had been waiting for me this whole time I was searching.  I pulled the Miata over, grabbed the Chinese leftovers and got out of the car. This black and white pit bull didn’t run. She simply sat down, cocked her head and looked up at me as if to say, “what the hell took you so long?!” Then she rolled over and invited me to give her some belly rubs. I obliged. I knew there were two dogs though. Where was the other one? The one with the injured leg? I preoccupied the little wiggly pup with the leftover food and began canvassing the empty grassy lot we were in. I roamed the perimeter, walked around the chain link fencing, and even asked the other pup where her friend was, to which I got no reply. The second pup was nowhere to be found. Once again, my mind was telling me “what are you doing, you can’t care for these two – just cut your losses, take this one to the pound and be done with it.”  As I was pondering my exit plan the security guard from the building across the street meandered over. He apparently worked at the building where my friend Money worked.  He asked if I was there to help the pit bulls. Actually, he seemed to oddly be expecting me as he asked, “are you Christina’s friend?” That was Money’s first name. I answered yes to both questions but shared that there was no sign of the second pup who was injured. I was standing next to a shrub in the middle of this abandoned lot as we were chatting, and I happened to look down. There, hiding in that thorny shrub, was the hurt pup. She was working to keep her presence hidden from me. Our eyes met, and once it became clear to her the gig was up, she hobbled to her feet and made a feeble attempt to get away. Had it not been for that injured leg she likely would have been successful, but I immediately scooped her up, while the security guard scooped up the other, and we loaded the two into my Miata. Off I went to Petco with my two dogs I had no idea what I was going to do with.  I had no intentions of keeping them…did I?
 
I got them set up with the basics the Petco staff helped me with, and once we got home, I finally heard back from my friend Moneypenny. She was glad to hear they were safe and gave me the name of her veterinarian that often helped her when she found strays. I contacted them the next morning and they got me in right away. During our appointment the vet shared the x-rays with me of the injured dog’s leg. I don’t know how he could determine this, but he told me the injury didn’t appear to be from a dog fight or being hit by a car. Given the dogs shy and fearful nature, he hypothesized that she had likely been abused. He didn’t charge me for that initial visit but gave me an estimate for the necessary vetting and surgery they would need. Money I certainly didn’t have. I was living paycheck to paycheck, and whatever money was left over went to partying. I queried the vet about what shelters there were in the area. He stated that pit bulls would likely be put down right away. Next, I asked about rescues. I was told, given how badly injured the one dog was, that the chances of finding rescue were slim to none. I clearly remember verbatim my last question I asked; “So, you’re telling me unless I take care of her injury and help these two dogs, they’ll die?”  There was a one-word response from him. Yes.

​Well, that was it. I suddenly had two six-month old female pit bull puppies likely from the same litter. For those really experienced with the breed (yes, I know “pit bull” isn’t really a breed), you know that’s likely a recipe for disaster in a year or two. It was. But that’s a story for another time.
 
I found a place called Beneficial Finance that would give me a personal loan at an incredibly high interest rate of more than 24% (they’re no longer in business) so I could get these dogs spayed and vetted, and the orthopedic surgery the injured girl needed. I still had no plan. We took things day by day.
 
I’m not a religious person. I’d call myself more of a spiritual kind of guy. But this I believe in my heart of hearts – these two abandoned and abused little pit bull puppies were put in my path for a reason. They needed me and I needed them even more. I came to find out later that the security guard who meandered over to help me that evening was expecting me – Moneypenny had told him to keep an eye open. And why didn’t Moneypenny help these two in the first place as I had wondered? She had a plan. She believed I would help them and that was the whole reason for her call to me that day at work. The way these two little creatures in need crossed my path was no coincidence. There was a higher power at play here. Like I said, I needed a catalyst for change in my life, and I got it in the form of a dog – two in fact. My life immediately changed. There were two lives that depended on me. Needed me. Loved me. The center of my universe was no longer myself; it was these two precious puppies. These two pit bulls, who came to be known as Hershey and Reese, ignited my passion to help animals in need and gave me a purpose.

Chris A. Maddox
Founder & President

---