Pit Bull Size Heart.

I adopted Laszlo, my best friend and constant companion in December of 2012. I had searched high and low for a dog to adopt that matched my personality. I looked at animal shelters and rescues for months, scanning profiles online. I had been visiting the animal shelter in my town for a few weeks, and only after I had applied to adopt a young puppy and then backed out, realizing I did not have the time to commit to a puppy; did I finally meet Laszlo—who was then named Papa Smurf. I felt so bad about changing my mind for the puppy, that I brought the animal shelter a few bags of treats and toys. I had seen Laszlo in his kennel, always sitting patiently. Never making a sound. When I passed his kennel for the first time, I was terrified. I saw a 5 year old, 65 pound Pitbull dog staring at me through bars and all I thought of was the media I had been inundated with. I didn’t stop to look at Laszlo, to realize the fact that he was still and calm, with wide eyes full of love.

I passed his kennel day after day. He got used to seeing me pass all the kennels, taking other dogs out to visit with but never him. On the day that I decided to finally open his kennel, he was really no different than usual. He sat at the edge of the kennel, silently staring. But this time, when I stopped and looked into his desperate eyes through the bars-- he turned his head at me. Then he stood up, and walked closer to the edge of the kennel and sat back down, still staring. I stared at him for a few minutes. I didn’t say anything, I just looked at him. Something switched in my mind, I no longer saw the dogs that the news had burned into my mind. Instead I saw a sweet old boy for what he really was. I walked back out to the lobby, stopped at the front desk, and asked if I could get “Papa Smurf” out. That was the beginning of the end of Laszlo’s life in the shelter.

After I got him out, I fell in love. In absolute love, and quickly. I asked the shelter all kinds of questions. Where did he come from? How long had he been there? Why was his face covered in scars? Was he good with children? What does he like? I learned that he had first come into the shelter as a stray, after being hit by a car and with a bullet wound. After he healed, he was adopted into what was thought to be a loving home. After 9 months, Laszlo was found again as a stray. The shelter attempted to contact his owners, who had both been incarcerated. Before going to jail, his owners gave him to a friend of theirs to watch over. After a few days, the friend decided they didn’t want him around and let him go on the street. So, there he sat at the shelter again, for months.

The second time he was adopted, he was returned within twenty four hours. A young man adopted him, and brought Laszlo to stay at his parents’ house while he went to work. Laszlo had an accident in the house on the parent’s carpet, and was brought back to the shelter shortly after. And there he waited, yet again. He had been in and out of the shelter so much that he couldn’t help but feel stressed, so he started to shut down. He stopped eating, lost weight. Didn’t want to play outside anymore.

The first time I got Laszlo out of his kennel, we sat together in one of the conference rooms in the shelter. There was a box of treats that I was giving him—ones that I had brought, that the staff had informed me were his favorite, and toys that I was attempting to make him play with. He was calm, didn’t want to play with the toys, wasn’t interested in looking around the room, he just sat next to me, gently taking treats from my hand. After our visit, I walked him back to his kennel. When I closed the latch, I looked at him-- his eyes were asking me why I was leaving. I thought about him for the days following. I went back to the shelter, and got him out of his kennel again, but this time I played with him outside.

I went home and started doing research. I was confused and misinformed on Pitbull dogs, like so many other, and thought there was no way I could actually adopt Laszlo. I thought to myself, “I’m crazy, right?! A Pitbull? But they’re mean!” I remember, embarrassingly, posting on Twitter—“Does anyone know anything about Pitt-bulls?” Spelled just like that. The only response I got was, “I know the name isn’t hyphenated, lol.” After that I realized how little I knew and that I wanted to learn more. I messaged the first Pitbull rescue I had ever heard of—on Facebook. I asked about what I spelled as “Pitbull Terriors.” And they responded with heartfelt information, and “P.S. It’s spelled Terrier, not Terrior. That makes them sound mean.”

I started to talk with my family about Laszlo, hesitant to tell them his breed. Once I did, my parents had the same reaction I did at first—saying “Elyssa, he’s a Pitbull.” But I pleaded with them just to come meet him. Knowing that if they did, they would love him. And so they did, my father was the first to come with me and it didn’t take more than a few seconds for Laszlo to win my dad over. Then was my mother, who was seemingly un-phased through the whole visit.

“There are so many other dogs, Elyssa.”

“Are you sure you’re even ready for a dog?”

But by time we left the shelter, she was smiling. Though she wouldn’t admit it, I knew she loved him immediately. My dad called me later that night to tell me that Laszlo had won her over, too. My boyfriend, Scott, also came to meet him. So did my friend Diane. Then my sister and my nephew. Everyone loved him, how could they not?

It was nearing the end of my first semester in college and I thought I needed to get through finals before taking him home. Once I made my decision, I filled out the shelter application and went through the adoption counseling. I sat on the floor with Laszlo for an hour, while he slept in my lap and I answered and asked questions. I asked the staff if I could come get him at the end of the week, after finals and they said they would call me if anyone else was interested. I wasn’t focused on school, though and continued to visit Laszlo every day until I took him home. I put aside an hour everyday just to go see him. During that time, we grew very close. He began to wag his tail when I would walk up to his kennel, he would knock me over with slobbery kisses.

On the last day before I adopted him, I went to get him out of his kennel and he wasn’t there. I almost had a panic attack, but quickly found him outside with a young couple. I asked if they were wanting to adopt him and they said yes—but were trying to see if their apartment would allow it. I couldn’t wait any longer, I was scared that Laszlo would be adopted, so I took him home the next day. As soon as I got off work, I rushed to the animal shelter. I called them on the way to say I was coming, it was four pm and they closed at five.

I remember signing the papers at the front desk while Laszlo anxiously awaited by my feet. The staff who so dearly loved him, cried. They hugged me, and hugged Laszlo. They took our adoption photo, and told me that he better not come back. That was a promise I will never break. I have always felt indebted and sincerely thankful to the Bloomington Animal Shelter for keeping Laszlo alive. Though not a no-kill shelter, they kept him through his wounds, failed adoptions, no fosters, and even when he started to shut down in his kennel.

Getting Laszlo home and out of the shelter was only the start of our bond. Before he came home, my sister and nephew, whom I lived with—left for three months to travel in Africa. We had the house to ourselves and nothing but time. He was slightly underweight from refusing to eat at the shelter, so I bought him eggs and cheese, chicken, rice, vegetables, yogurt—and I cooked his meals. He was too scared to eat from a bowl so I hand fed him. He was still hesitant so I had to coach him, tell him it was okay to eat. Let him know I wasn’t here to hurt him… that his suffering was over. I watched as he slowly began to open up and understand that he was finally safe and loved. We took long walks in the cold winter, watched movies together on the couch, and shared Chinese food.

During my winter break—I got the stomach flu. I spent days vomiting and couldn’t keep a single thing down. Laszlo stayed by my side through all of it. When I finally started to feel better, I tried to eat some apple sauce. I didn’t finish it before I felt sick again and ran to the bathroom. I set my applesauce down on the floor by the couch, and when I came back out I saw Laszlo eating it. I walked past him, I was going to get some water from the kitchen and let him finish the bowl. When he heard my footsteps though, he bolted. He ran to the corner, with his back facing me. His head was bowed, his body was shaking. I was confused, shocked… I went over to him to and he wouldn’t look at me. Scared he would be beaten for eating. I sat with him, and eventually he stopped shaking, and I offered him the rest of the apple sauce. That very moment, was the moment that Laszlo and I began to understand each other. From then on, we have been inseparable.

I don’t know much about the details of Laszlo’s past, but I can tell you it was not happy. He is fearful of so much. It doesn’t take much for Laszlo to cower with his head bowed, shaking. Loud noises, yelling, an accidental door slam. When he steals food, chews something he’s not supposed to—he awaits his punishment that he became so used to. He suffered immensely in his past life, and though it breaks my heart to know, it fills my heart with joy that he will never know suffering again. Laszlo has been more than a dog—he has changed my life in so many ways. He has been my best friend, my therapist, and my motivator.

On January 19th, 2013 Scott and I decided to drive out to Brown County State Park to take Laszlo hiking. It was a beautiful day—sunny and fifty degrees. The last tweet I posted was “It is such a beautiful day.” We barely made it out of Bloomington when we were in an accident. A terrible accident. One we shouldn’t have been able to walk away from, but did. We were rear ended, while we were stopped behind a car, waiting for them to turn off of a one –lane-each-way country road. They were going fifty when they hit us. Once they hit my car, my car slammed into the car in front of us—and then spun into oncoming traffic and we were hit for a third time, on the passenger side by a utility van. I was knocked momentarily unconscious, but when I came to and realized what happened, I opened my door and immediately went to open the back door for Laszlo. Not thinking straight, I let Laszlo out and he ran as fast as he could away from the car.

Scott ran to me and told me to sit down. A woman came over to me and brought me a blanket from her car, she said I was shivering. Scott was bleeding, and I was terrified. I asked him to get my phone from the car so I could call my parents. I could hear the ambulance sirens. I was panicked about Laszlo, unsure where he had run to, panicked about Scott, scared he was hurt. The couple in the car behind the car that hit us, had grabbed his leash when they saw him take off, and he was sitting with them in the field by the road. They had a bag of dog treats in their car and were giving them to him while he looked on at us—with worried eyes.

That very day I had gotten a new phone number and hadn’t changed Laszlo’s name tag—so I was frantically trying to give them information and trying to call someone to come get Laszlo before we left in the ambulance. The firefighters and EMT’s put both Scott and I in neck braces and strapped us to back boards. It was around five pm and the moon just begun to come out, with the sky still blue. I remember looking up at the sky while being loaded into the ambulance, and seeing a plane flying over us. It was so beautiful, and so peaceful.

Right before leaving the accident, my friend showed up and ran over to get Laszlo and put him in her car and then came to see how we were. I spent a few days in the hospital and Laszlo stayed with my parents. When I finally got home, Laszlo would not leave my side. From that day forward he has followed me from room to room wherever I go. He is loved by our entire family, he is has become one of our family members. 

Laszlo strongly dislikes water. He won't step outside in the rain and would never go swimming, but in October of 2013 I took him on a hike through the woods near Griffy in Bloomington, and we went down to the creek. For a while, we just sat together in the sun, listening to the water flow. He got up and walked around, and after a few minutes, he stepped into the water. Never in my life did I think he would voluntarily touch water. But he did, and he looked back at me as if to ask for guidance and when I told him it was okay, he walked further into the creek. He just stood in the water, looking around. He did this a few times, walking in and out of the water. I knew he finally felt safe with me, like he could really explore the world for the first time and know in his heart that I would never let anything bad happen to him.

The same goes for the many months it took for him to comfortably lay on his back. First he would roll on his side and then quickly roll back over, eventually he would lay on his back for 30 seconds while kicking his legs, and after six months, he learned he could just relax. He also learned he wouldn't get in trouble for getting on the couch, though he still won't unless you coach him up.

He has been the source of many, many laughs, including the time he got into my nephews box of Crayola crayons and pooped in a circle on the carpet in my room. It wasn't just poop though, it was orange, and blue, and green, and purple poop that stayed in my carpet. He felt so bad about it, but we thought it was hysterical-- after we got over having to clean out colorful diarrhea from the carpet. Laszlo loves to walk into bushes outside and hide, and refuse to come out. He likes to rub his back on the branches, and will spend 10 minutes in a bush, not letting me pull him back out. He is very sensitive, and very special, and for that we love him all the more. He has slight neurological damage, from who knows what, he will spend hours catching invisible bugs, following them around the room and opening his mouth to eat them. He will put his snout directly into a blanket and inhale deeply, as if he is smelling it really intensely. He has many quirks, which is one of the reasons he is just so cute. 

I have never felt so bonded to another creature in my life. He truly is my heart and soul. If anyone was rescued, it was me. The joy he has brought me over the last year and three months since I brought him home moves to tears & I just can't find the words to explain my love for him. He has spent all but a handful of nights since he was adopted next to me in bed, he has shared my food, rode shot gun in my Jeep almost daily, left drool marks & dog hair on all of my clothes, gone hiking four dozen times, hibernated through winter with me, opened my heart and my eyes... He is the reason 7 more dogs have been saved. He led me to rescue. He showed me real, raw, unconditional love and he has never let me down, never judged me, he has given me all he has to give. He has helped open so many peoples hearts and changed my life & many others for the better. Laszlo is the sweetest, most genuinely kind living being that I have ever, ever known. 

He has been there for many tears, both happy and sad, and has kept me alive during the roughest of times-- simply by being there. He showed me what this breed is & exactly how much love pumps through their bodies. It's never ending, the love is always there to jump up and kiss me when I walk in the door whether I am gone for 10 minutes or 6 hours. He is the embodiment of love, it pours out of him so easily. He doesn't know how to do anything but love. It's simple, Laszlo is love and I will do whatever I can to give him back ten fold all of the love he gives to me & make his life as long and happy as possible. We saved each other. I can never repay Laszlo for all he has given me, but I promise I will try.