As a woman at Wells Branch Technology Center left for lunch on Monday, Aug. 1, she noticed a large grey pit bull wandering the parking lot. When she returned, she alerted a few coworkers.
Soon an e-mail was sent to more than 100 state employees:
“Pit bull running around loose over around Merrilltown Road … he looked mean and wanted to let y’all know, especially those of you who might be walking over in that area.”
That e-mail raised safety concerns and set off a four-day search that ended when I brought him to Oak Hill Veterinary Clinic, Love-A-Bull’s veterinarian. Staff determined the pit bull to be dehydrated and slightly underweight, and removed wood fragments from a dime-sized puncture to his right hindquarter.

- This happy boy will be staying with Kimbo and me until he finds his forever home.
He was neutered and put on preventative medication for fleas and heart worms. He’s expected to make a full recovery and will remain in Love-A-Bull’s foster care until he finds his forever home.
Lydia Zaidman, one of Love-A-Bull’s founders had this to say about him:
“He is tender, sweet, gentle, good with dogs. Initial impression is that he has the chops for Pit Crew. He will make some family very lucky.”
This is how the next chapter of his life started.
First contact
Monday, Aug. 1
When I received the e-mail, I grabbed some water and went searching. It was 105° F outside.

- The land surrounding Wells Branch Technology Center is a mixture of dry grassland, cactus and a few trees that offer little shade.
That stretch of Merriltown Road is a half-mile country road that zig zags through mostly undeveloped ranch land. Knee-high grass, cactus and scraggly trees dot the landscape. Deer and rabbit are usually common, but the recent dry conditions mean few sightings.
I spotted a silhouette in some brush just beyond a ranch entrance. When I doubled back, I saw a grey pit bull pawing the ground and circling in a vain attempt to escape the heat. He was panting faster than I’ve ever seen a dog breathe.
He was an intact male with cropped ears and looking thin.
“Wow, he does look mean,” I said to myself.
When I called out, he wagged his tail and took a few steps toward me. He did what I wanted, but it freaked me out. I’m new to pit bull advocacy and had never rescued a dog.
Even though my adopted boy Kimbo changed my mind about pit bulls, I was surprised and a little disappointed in myself for still holding on to the myth many people believe about pit bulls: they’re unpredictable and prone to aggression.
Besides, what was I supposed to do, invite him into my car and just leave work? Where would I take him? I have a dog and three cats at home. What would my wife say?
This dog could be injured, abused or sick, I reasoned. I left the water and a few treats at the edge of the shade line and went back to my desk.
But I kept imagining Kimbo when he was a stray: a sweetheart of a dog lost, hungry, scared. People yelling at him, “Get out of here!” or throwing rocks at first sight.
I called Lydia to ask for advice and she persuaded me to look for him. She’d find a way to get him care.
When I went back to find him, he was gone. The food and water appeared untouched. I drove up and down the road a half dozen times, but nothing.
Lydia asked Love-A-Bull member Mike Waits to join the search after work. At about 5 p.m. we started walking up and down the road. After nearly an hour, no sign of him.
Meanwhile, the grey pit bull wandered near Building 8, about a quarter of a mile south.
Like a ghost
Tuesday, Aug. 2
I searched the grounds at about 6:45 a.m., but didn’t see him. The food and water remained untouched.
At about 8 a.m., a coworker e-mailed me. The dog was by one of the retention ponds. I was there within moments and walked the area for about 15 minutes, but never spotted him. He was like a ghost.
During lunch, I dove and walked around. It was another scorcher: 107° F.
I left my contact information with a nearby road construction team, the train yard crew across the street and the owner of Kiddie Acres, which is next door to the office complex. Everyone was sympathetic, but no one had seen him.
After work, still no sign of him.
Losing hope
Wednesday, Aug. 3
Of the 20 or so coworkers who answered my e-mail expressing concern for the dog’s safety, no one had spotted him.
I resumed my patrol before and after work, on break and during lunch, but never saw him. Hope was beginning to fade.
Hiding in the bushes
Thursday, Aug. 4
Every time I searched, I carried a leash, a bag of treats and a bottle of water. Every morning for the past three days, I took those items from my night stand and stuffed them into my pockets.
This morning, I stared at the supplies wondering if I should take them. Maybe animal control picked him up, I hoped. But I knew he was probably dead. The brutal heat, harsh landscape or a speeding motorist must have taken him.
As I turned away from the nightstand empty handed, I thought of Kimbo. Fewer than nine months ago, he was enduring harsh winter conditions.
How could have I driven away from the grey pit bull on Monday? Was leaving a coffee can of water and some treats really the best I could do?
I didn’t drive around the office complex that morning. When I got to my desk, I just stared at the computer screen. I was in a lousy mood.
At about 9 a.m. a woman rushed into my cube and asked me if I still wanted to help the dog. My heart sank. Was he alive?
During a morning health walk, she noticed him hiding in some bushes in front of Building 8. When we got there moments later, I could barely see his head poking out of a hedge.
While I gained his confidence with some dog treats, she went to a nearby building for some water.
After about 10 minutes, he sniffed a treat I had tossed on the ground near him. He looked weak and scared, but he ate it.
I crouched forward, avoiding eye contact and speaking to him in a high-pitched voice.
“That’s a good boy,” I said over and over. “It’s OK. It’s OK.”

- I didn’t notice the dog had an injured leg until he jumped in the back of my Nissan Versa. It looked infected and oozed blood.
He moved his head toward my open hand and paused as he gave me a doe-eyed glance. Then he slowly took a treat. His saliva was thick as mucous and his breath felt like a blow dryer.
My eyes blurred as a lump welled up in my throat. He was going to be OK!
We went back and forth like this four or five times, and every time he was about to make contact with my hand he bowed his head and gave me the sad-eye treatment.
He was so gentle, and kept looking at me for approval. I gradually slipped a leash over his head and when I gave a gentle tug, he came out of the bushes.
As he followed me to my car’s open hatchback, I thought, “How am I going to get him in?”

- Veterinarian staff removed wood fragments from the dog’s right hindquarter, which caused swelling and an infection. He’s expected to make a full recovery.
He put his front paws on the bumper, took a few sniffs, rocked back on his haunches and jumped right in.
During the 30-minute trip to the vet’s office, he mostly laid down. When I opened the hatch, he didn’t want to get out. Who could blame him? I imagined that was how he wound up in that office complex, dumped because he had outlived his usefulness.
I backed away and called to him. He reluctantly jumped out and into Love-A-Bull’s care.
Fostering a handsome boy
Sunday, Aug. 7
Three days later, Lydia and Leala Ward, another of Love-A-Bull’s leaders, met me and Kimbo at a park near my house. I had persuaded Denise to let us give fostering a shot.
They wanted to know what I planned to name him. Ghost came to mind, because every time I went to look for him, he’d vanish. Ranger also seemed fitting because he was obviously a tough fellow who roamed harsh terrain.

- Kimbo and Beau are quickly becoming buddies.
Lydia reminded me that I was focusing on the past. There’s much more to him than those four days. Besides, animals with happy names draw the attention of many more prospective families than animals with sad or scary names.
As Kimbo and the grey pit bull sniffed and nudged each other during their first walk together, Lydia and Leala agreed the foster was very handsome.

- Beau is working on his manners, but is very receptive and loves to please. He’s learning sit, down and stay.
“He looks like a Beau,” Lydia said. “What do you think, Joseph?”
Later we drove to my house to see how the dogs interacted on Kimbo’s turf. We also needed to see how he would respond to my cats. He passed everyone’s scrutiny.
An hour later, I called Lydia.
“We’ve decided he totally is a Beau,” I said. “That’s his name.”
Tagged: adopt, adoption, advocacy, beau, dog, kimbo, pit bull, Pit CrewFiled under: Uncategorized