My dog’s name is Braveheart. I didn’t give him that name, my ex lover did. And it fits.

Billy showed up one crisp fall evening after a lapse of contact. Par for us. I never could stay mad at 
him and was always glad to see him.

Anyway, as I opened the door, a pup, a young, brindle, tiger stripe, pit bull with a huge head and donkey ears came sauntering in like he owned the place. I’m a dog person.
He knew it.

I’d never been around Pit Bulls and was a bit put off. “What’s his name? “I asked. “Braveheart.”I had to laugh.

Braveheart and I hit it off. Good dog.

Billy left him with me for “just a few days”. Braveheart and I have been together 8 years now.

He is one of the best dogs in the world; gentle,loyal, housebroken,obedient, smart, funny, solid, brave.

He “doesn’t want to fight .But( he)” would if” (he) had to.”To paraphrase his namesake, William Wallace. And that is how a 50 year old white woman ended up with a 65 lb pit from Wellston fighting stock.

He’s never fought. Never will.He’s family.