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Published: February 3, 2008
His back resting comfortably against her chest, Hector nestles his massive canine head into Leslie Nuccio's shoulder, high-fiving pit bull paws against human hands.
The big dog - 52 pounds - is social, people-focused, happy now, it seems, wearing a rhinestone collar in his new home in California.
But as Hector sits up, deep scars stand out on his chest.
"I wish he could let us know what happened to him," says Nuccio, his foster mother.
Hector ought to be dead, she knows - killed in one of his staged fights, or executed for not being "game" enough, not winning, or euthanized by those who see pit bulls seized in busts as unsuited to any kind of normal life.
Instead, Hector is learning how to be a pet.
After the fighting ring, he has reached a heaven of sorts: saved by a series of unlikely breaks, transported thousands of miles by devoted strangers, and now nurtured by Nuccio; her roommate, Danielle White; and their three dogs.
The animals barrel around the house, with 4-year-old Hector leading the puppylike antics - stealth underwear grabs from the laundry basket, sprints across the living room, food heists from the coffee table - until it's "love time" and he decelerates and engulfs the women in a hug.
What Nuccio does know is this: Hector has come such a long way since he was in Michael Vick's Bad Newz Kennels.
Dogfighting Ring Exposed
Authorities descending last year on 1915 Moonlight Road in Surry County, Va., found where Vick, the former NFL quarterback, and others staged pit bull fights in covered sheds, tested the animals' fighting prowess and destroyed and disposed of dogs that weren't good fighters.
Vick is serving a 23-month federal sentence after admitting that he bankrolled the dogfighting operation and helped kill six to eight dogs.
A bewildered Hector and more than 50 other American pit bull terriers or pit bull mixes were gathered up.
The dogs, held as evidence in the criminal prosecutions, were taken to a half dozen city and county pounds and shelters in Virginia.
Hector was bunked in the Hanover pound in a cage below a dog named Uba who was smaller and more clearly showing anxiety.
Uba flattened on all fours when Tim Racer, an evaluator on a team assembled by the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, arrived at his cage.
"Are you going to kill me now?" was the message another evaluator, Donna Reynolds, read in Uba's eyes.
The black-and-white dog tried to wriggle away once out of the cage, but he came around after a while. He wagged his tail when the team showed him a 4-foot doll, to test his response to children. He spun around and got into a play position when they brought out a dog.
"This is the big secret: Most of them were dog-tolerant to dog-social. It was completely opposite of what we were led to believe," Reynolds said.
How much to trust the capacity of fighting dogs to have a new life as pets or working dogs in law enforcement or therapy settings is an issue that has divided animal advocates. One dog seized at Bad Newz was euthanized as too aggressive, but the others, four dozen plus in all, have had different fates.
Nearly half have been sent to a Utah sanctuary, Best Friends Animal Society, where handlers will work with them. None showed human aggression and many have potential for adoption someday. Others, evaluated as being immediate candidates for foster care and eventual adoption, went to several other groups.
Among the latter was Hector.
A team of animal welfare experts got things rolling last July when federal authorities sought ownership of the seized dogs. The result, they say, was groundbreaking.
The Oakland, Calif.-based pit bull rescue and education group Bay Area Doglovers Responsible About Pit bulls, or BAD RAP, which had done similar rescues from fighting busts in California, asked Assistant U.S. Attorney Michael Gill for permission to evaluate and rescue as many of the dogs as possible.
"Much to our amazement, he said yes," said Reynolds, who heads BAD RAP.
Those familiar with the Vick case said the Justice Department hoped early on to find a way to give the dogs a second chance. As part of his plea deal, Vick agreed to pay for the dogs' care.
The court appointed a guardian and special master, Valparaiso University animal law expert Rebecca Huss, who oversaw the dogs' disposition and recommended which rescue groups would accept them.
One result of the process, said ASPCA's Stephen Zawistowski, is that shelters that always euthanized such dogs are now saying "you've given us permission to care" about giving them a second chance.
Nicole Rattay, a BAD RAP volunteer, spent six weeks visiting the Vick dogs in shelters every day, e-mailing and phoning her observations to Huss.
"Some dogs were ready to learn 'sit' and obedience," she said. "Some needed more time to accept touch and feel comfortable in their surrounding. Sometimes I would just sit in their kennels."
Heading To Foster Homes
BAD RAP won government approval in mid-October to transport a group of dogs to California foster homes.
Hector and a dozen others were about to make the cross-country trip in a rented 33-foot Cruise America RV.
Four BAD RAP members - Racer, Reynolds, Rattay and Steve Smith - cruised a Richmond, Va., Wal-Mart, loading up with doggy sleeping mats, crates, bowls and chew sticks. The next day, they split up in twos to pick up, bathe and exercise the 13 pit bulls from four shelters. Then they loaded them up.
Rattay walked through the RV, cooing and checking her cargo. Alert to an adventure, one dog circled his bed. Another stretched and yawned. A third slathered her outstretched hand with kisses.
"Oh my goodness," she cooed to them. "It's nice to see you again. Hi buddy, hi."
She and Smith took turns driving and napping on the 2 1/2 -day trip (Racer and Reynolds flew home to prepare for the dogs' arrival).
The dogs drifted to sleep in their crates but jumped right up each time the RV stopped for a break.
Assembly-line style, the couple walked, watered, and fed each of the 13 dogs, causing some gawks from other drivers who'd stopped.
Settling Into A New Life
At 10 a.m. on a Tuesday, Rattay pulled the RV in front of Racer and Reynolds' house.
It had been a long trip, and soon both drivers and animals fell asleep in the living room waiting for foster families to arrive.
Hector's settling into his new life, getting further and further from his past.
Weekly AKC "canine good citizen" classes are correcting his social ineptitude. And he's taking cues on good manners from patient Pandora, a female pit bull mix who's queen of the household's dogs. Once Hector graduates, he'll take classes to become a certified therapy dog.
For now, he's learning the simple pleasures of a blanket at bedtime and a peanut butter-filled chew toy.
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