“Is it a pit bull?”

“Huh? Uh, no,” was my less than snappy reply as I turned to look at the snow-white puppy lagging behind me on his bright red leash, clumsily attemping a strut.

His name was Patrick Henry, and he was a purebred English bull terrier. He was pure affection and tennis-ball addiction. He was also the perfect antidote for insomnia because he hummed and snored so in his sleep that after only about five minutes of watching him, even an anxious soul like me would nod off to dreamland.

He was also our first dog. And though he was endlessly sweet, he was our introduction into the ugly world of pit bull prejudice.

I can’t count the times that parents yanked their youngsters away from Paddy despite his wildly wagging tail. He spent the first few months of his life at the breeder’s home in Massachusetts and, having been raised with children, missed them terribly. “He’s friendly, really friendly,” became one of our mantras, and with time Paddy usually won over the most skeptical.

We had done a lot of research before settling on the “Spuds MacKenzie” breed known as both the gladiator and the clown of the dog world. We knew that the well-muscled medium-size dogs with the funny egg-shaped head had been bred by mixing a number of breeds, most notably the now extinct English white terrier, the bulldog and, possibly, a dollop of Dalmatian.

We knew their history included bull baiting, pit fighting, rat killing and ultimately their most successful role as “gentleman’s companion.” We also learned that they share much ancestry with American Staffordshire terriers, American pit bull terriers and any other dogs whose mix of bulldog and terrier lineage gets them classified as pit bulls.

We loved many things about the English bull terriers. Their unique look –– so odd that in our eyes they are downright gorgeous. Their people friendliness and their well-documented steadiness around children.

We loved the fact that “bullies” are robust in almost everything they do, whether it be sleep or play. They will readily risk exhaustion if you want to dislocate your arm by throwing their favorite squeaky toy for two hours. But they can just as easily downshift into the role of nap buddy — happy to spend an entire Saturday morning nuzzling against you and trying to ooze their way onto your lap.

Most of all they make us laugh –– from their bouncy gait to their penchant for theatrics. In a recurring display of overacting, our second bull terrier, Amos, will lie down with his head pillowed in his empty dish if he feels that day’s meals have been a bit skimpy.

We got Amos about eight years ago after Patrick Henry died. Amos, or A-Moose as he is sometimes called, is a big-headed, big-hearted lug with a pretty brindle coat and white markings.

He lives by the pleasure principle, devoting his life to sleeping, eating and getting as much human affection as he can.

Having once been a champion show dog, he can prance like a circus pony when out on his daily walks, but strangers tend to focus on his physique and the size of his lolling bully grin.

“Tough-looking dog –– is he dangerous?” are among the countless remarks we have to field, even now that age has slowed his jaunty gait.

Such disheartening preconceptions are likely to persist. According the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, very little progress has been made in debunking the pit bull prejudice that pervades our society and causes thousands of dogs to suffer at the hands of people who want to use them to exploit the very worst in animal behavior.

Ledy VanKavage, a lawyer with the ASPCA, spends much of her time fighting “breed-specific legislation” that has made pit bulls and many other breeds –– including German shepherds and Akidas –– illegal in many communities in America. Denver alone has killed more than 2,000 dogs under this misguided approach, which VanKavage says misses the point that most bad dog behavior can be attributed to bad owners.

“The most important thing to remember is that pit bulls are not werewolves. They are just dogs and as such are individuals that should be judged as individuals,” said VanKavage. “Many have been horribly abused and taught to fight, yet they repeatedly show their resilience by still being willing to love and be loved after they are rescued.”

Pit bulls and their cousins are not the first maligned breed in history, but for them the stigma has seemed to stick and that is something that author Karen Delise explores in The Pit Bull Placebo.

The book debunks many of the sensationalized stories that have spread about pit bulls, including their so-called locking jaw. It’s bunk — or bull, if you will — and she cites research that shows there is nothing unique about the anatomy or functionality of pit bull jaws.

Bad publicity for pit bulls can, sadly, become a self-fulfilling prophesy, Delise says. “The more they demonize the breed, the more it appeals to substandard owners who will want them for all the wrong reasons.”

Donna Reynolds, director of Bad Rap, a California-based nonprofit rescue group that is currently working with 10 of the dogs rescued from NFL quarterback Michael Vick’s infamous, illegal fight factory, said that in the end pit bulls and related breeds will be their own best publicity if people are willing to look at them.

She has beautifully chronicled the emotional journey of Vick’s dogs with slide shows on the Web site badrap.org, and she says that many are almost ready for adoption.

“These dogs have a big job to do — they have to show America they are not monsters,” she says.

Amos is willing to do his part, too.

He greets the mailman every day. Neighbors can see my nieces and nephews try to ride him like a pony or drag him down the street on rainy days when he is afraid of the big puddles.

He can also be seen lunging for the decorative fruit trees scattered around our block so he can graze on the fallen tiny desiccated cherries and pears like some ridiculously undersize cow.

Being ambassador for a breed is a heavy mantle to carry, but Amos doesn’t mind.

He’s got broad shoulders.

bpoliche@projo.com