A couple of years ago I had a deaf and half-blind Bull Arab rescue charge me and try to rip my throat out, after it yanked it’s big bloke foster off his feet and the bloke let go of the leash.

I was pressed up against the dining table, so I couldn’t get out of the way. Adrenaline kicked in and I managed to wrestle the dog to the ground, fracturing a finger in the process. He was muzzled, but the muzzle came loose and he got my hand. He was a reject pig dog from north Queensland which goodhearted (but totally deluded) rescuers had shipped all the way down to Canberra. I recommended he be PTS.

The next day, they had convinced a trainer in western Sydney who specialises in aggressive dogs to take him on. Two months later, the dog had not responded and had to be PTS.

The sad thing is the _many_ hundreds of dollars the rescue organisation spent on this hopeless case could’ve been much better spent rehabilitating and rehoming other rescues with few or no issues.

That poor dog was never going to to live a normal, balanced and happy life and could never have been rehomed – sometimes the only compassionate answer is to let them go.