Three years and a month ago, I took on the biggest challenge of my life. While driving home from an extended photography trip in Southern Utah, I spotted a wandering dog on the southbound side of Interstate 15 about fifteen miles east of Baker, California (the southern gateway to Death Valley). Seeing that she was a pit bull, I knew she was a goner if I didn’t do anything, and I knew I wouldn’t sleep that night (or the next one, or the one after that….) if I just passed her by. As a cat-person, all I knew about pit bulls was what the news media projected (which any human owned by a pit bull will tell you is overblown nonsense; any breed can be trained for aggression and fighting). I was terrified of her, she was terrified of me, but after three and a half hours of effort, I got her in my truck – suffering no bites or ill feelings – and drove her three hours further to home.
Snap to today: this dog has changed my life. Like any pit bull, she is a willful handful and has required lots of discipline and a huge commitment, but she is a vibrant and smiling personality, is full of affection, and is spoiled absolutely rotten. Mojave has been on more adventures and stood on more mountaintops than most people ever will. For this pit bull, life is perfect, and like any doting parent would say about their child, I cannot imagine a day without her.