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THE FUTURE - JUNIOR BSL FIGHTERS IN
ACTION
This story was written by the daughter of a friend of mine.
Macey Ferren has a strong passion for her animals, especially the family pit bull, and she is following in
her mom's footsteps in her efforts to defend the breed.
Congratulations to Macey for receiving the Honorable
Mention for her paper! I'm proud to have you on our side, Macey!
(If you would like to leave a comment for Macey, please send it to
rescue@blessthebullys.com, and I will make sure she gets it.)
The Story of Hope
This is a fictitious story of a young girl who has been diagnosed
as a blind youth. This isn't based on anyone person, but on anyone affected by Breed Specific Legislation (B.S.L). B.S.L is
the bannin of a specific type of dog, for whatever reason the head honcho of B.S.L can come up with. Right now B.S.L is focusing
on banning the American Pit Bull Terrier, more commonly known as the Pit Bull. In fact in Denver, Colorado any dog that even
remotley has the characteristics of a Pit Bull is taken from the owner and put to sleep almost if not immediately. In fact
Denver has the highest rate of dogs being put to sleep because of B.S.L, which has been called the Holocaust of America, because
so many have been killed. The following story is of a young girl whom was affected by B.S.L directly.
Four years ago I was diagnosed as a bling thirteen year old
girl. My name is Cassie by the way. My sight had slowly been slipping for a long time, until finally I was diagnosed as blind.
When I was told this my whole world seemed to crash. That would mean that I wouldn't ever be able to go to a public school,
see my parents' faces, or even walk out my front door on my own again, or so I thought.
About a month after my diagnosis I was informed that a Seeing Eye
dog had been donated to me. She was a three year old Pit Bull rescue. Apparently it wasnt uncommon for a Pit Bull to be rescued
from someone abusing them, or fighting them. She had belonged to somebody who had decided to that they didn't want her anymore
and left her in an old car lot. Someone had called the shelter and said something about a disturbance by the old lot, that
they'd heard a dog barking and they wanted somebody to come out and investigate it immediatley. Well when they found her she
was very sickly skinny, so bad that she could barely walk. No one at the shelter wanted to take her, because of the things
they had heard in the papers and things, calling her breed visious, dangerous animals that attack without warning. They day
before she was due to be put to sleep, somebody suggested that
they try to get her trained to be some sort of therapy dog, and that's how she came to stay here with me.
Her name ironically was Hope, which is something that I kept, even
though the doctors had told me over and over that I had less than a 20% chance of gaining even some of my sight back. I was
skeptical about getting a dog at first. I was blind and couldn't do very much, let a lone take care of a dog. When my mom
and dad brought her home, I soon realized that I was wrong about a lot of things. With Hope I could go for walks outside and
do other things that would otherwise have been impossible without her. Hope was somebody I could talk to, unlike human people.
She didn't try to understand how I felt or told me that it was normal to feel what I was feeling.
She was just there comforting me. I like to think that she
was listening to me, letting me talk, when I couldn't find the words to say around people. Soon I became very attached to
her. She opened up a new world that I hadn't been able to expirience since my diagnosis. She was my gurdian angel, sent straight
from Heaven to earth, by a God that loved me very much.
About a year after recieving Hope I had been given terrible news.
I had just gotten home, from taking Hope for a walk and my mom told me that she needed me to listen to her very carefully
and take what she said very seriously. She sat me on the couch and told me that B.S.L had come to Denver and that we had 48
hours to take Hope to an animal shelter or she would be confinscated. It was like hearing the doctors diagnosis all over agian.
I felt tears roll down my cheeks.
I finally found my voice and asked, " Can't we just get an apartment
or stay at a hotel somewhere until we find someplace safe to take Hope to ?" Clutching Hope with all of my strength dad told
me that not many places allowed dogs to stay, let alone a Pit Bull. Dad couldn't leave his job, because he wouldn't be able
to find another one in time, and we were too short on cashe ot move that soon or evven go to a hotel in the next state.
We were going to have to give up Hope, which was something I was
beggining to do myself. If I had to let Hope go, I wouldn't be able to do the things that I did now, and getting another Seeing
Eye dog just wouldn't be the same, because I had grown so attached to her.
Nothing was going right and I still couldn't see.
The day that we took Hope in was both a good and bad day. Dad had
already gone inside with Hope, mom and I were waiting in the car. About five minutes after my dad had gone in my eyes began
to blur. It wasn't normal for my eyes to do anything and this started to scare me. I couldn't see out of the blurriness very
well, but I could make out distinct shapes. I informed mom and she started crying, which scared me even more. I didn't see
the reason to cry until she told me that she thought I was gaining some of my sight back.
As soon as dad got back into the car we drove to the doctors to
tell them the news and have my eyes checked again. They told me that I was beggining to see again, and that maybe with just
the right amount of therapy and the right amount of time, I just may be able to see clearly again. This cheared me up, but
I still missed Hope terribly.
Christmas approached faster that I thought possible. Everytime I
was asked what I wanted, I would simply reply, Hope. I hadn't forgotten about her, she was still my angel. She was out there
somewhere, wondering what she'd done to be sent away again. I had gained my sight back, about a month after Hope had been
sent away. The doctors said that it was a rappid change and that I owuld most likely have to use glasses ofr the rest of my
life, but my eyes were fine. They told me that it was about a one in a million chance that I would be able to see, yet there
I was on Christmas night opening presents with mom and dad, something I thought I'd never be able to do again.
I had just opened the last of the presents, when someone knocked
on the door. Dad looked at mom and they went to see who it was. I sat there feeling grateful for what I'd gotten that Christmas,
but I soon realized something inside of me felt empty. I realized that Hope wasn't there, and that she probably wasn't going
to be in that house ever again. I didn't try to stop the tears that welled up in my eyes, I just let them fall, crying for
my guardian angel. Even if I didn't need her to see, I still needed her in my life.
A few minutes later I felt something wet on the back of my arm.
I turned to find something staring at me. It was Hope. I didn't even need to be toldm because somehow I just knew. I hugged
her and cried harder than I had when we'd had to give her up in the first place. I asked dad if she was really here to stay
and asked if B.S.L had left Denver. Dad told me that he'd gotten a better job in Oregon, where B.S.L wasn't likely to strike.
He said that we'd be able to move and keep Hope for as long as I wanted to. I told them that if they thought that I was going
to give her up again that they were crazy. Mom told me that I would have different responsiblities with her, now that I could
see again. I would have to take her for a walk every day, make sure she had food, all of the normal things that came with
having a dog. I realized that Hope was here to stay, and that no one would be able to take her again. It was the best Christmas
ever, not only because I had Hope and my eyesight, but because I knew that there were other people who had kept hope like
I had, and it paid off in the end. I could finally see what had helped me cope with being blind, and all it took was a little
hope.
This story is dedicated to the thousands and thousands of people who have been affected by B.S.L. If people
learn more about it and take matters into their own hands, by educating others, we may have a chance to stop it in its tracks.
Just like in this story, all it takes is a little hope, and some action, to change something.
Macey Ferren
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