Rehabilitating the Staffie

There is nothing like a Staffie, writes Peter Rhodes.

When you stroke a Staffordshire bull terrier or walk him on a leash, you realise the breed is quite unlike any other dog. A Staffie buzzes with spirit and is packed with loyalty, courage, boundless energy and a great sense of mischief.

Agriculture minister Jim Paice is leading a new campaign to "reclaim the dog's good name" after a series of horrific attacks and dog-fighting scandals.

A Staffie, well-raised, can be a great companion and a friend for life.

And I wish, as a lifetime dog lover, I could end this piece there.

But the fact is that the best you can say about any dog, no matter how much of a softy he seems, is that he hasn't bitten anyone yet.

My father had a sweet old golden retriever who endured years of games and teasing by children and grandchildren and never snapped once. But when some well-meaning passer-by reached into the car to stroke him, that old retriever almost had the stranger's hand off.

And when a Staffie snaps, he doesn't just bite.

The genes of hundreds of years of bull-baiting come to the fore and he goes into the attack with a single-minded ferocity which is terrifying to behold.

I love Staffies but I would never have one in the house.

And while part of me wishes Jim Paice well, another part of me fears that his support for the Staffie will come back to haunt him.