KANAB, Utah - Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Michael Vick continued his comeback from incarceration by starting in the Pro Bowl on Sunday in Hawaii.

A few thousand miles away in the wilderness of Utah, some of the pit bulls Vick once owned are making their own comebacks. But theirs is a much slower, steadier climb.

Take Little Red. Three years ago, she would race to the nearest corner and cower, her face buried against the wall, at the sight of any human or dog. Or Ellen, who would growl at anyone who came near her, especially if they dared glance over at her food dish.

Both dogs had such bad problems, experts said, they'd be better off dead.

These days, though, Little Red wags her tail rapidly and is almost inseparable from her new best buddy - a cattle dog mix named Google. And Ellen, a tannish-brown bundle of energy, still loves her food but loves her visitors even more - smothering them with kisses as soon as they walk through the door.

These dogs and 13 others are rehabilitating at the Best Friends Animal Society in Kanab. It's a world away from where their lives began, chained in basements and forced into dogfighting rings as part of the business bankrolled by Vick, who has been out of prison for more than a year and last week received his first paid endorsement deal since his release.

On the one hand, the Vick dogs are all success stories - on the road to recovery and serving as ambassadors for a breed that has been widely derided as too dangerous.

In another respect, though, their recoveries are slow and sometimes painful, many filled with diseases, injuries and skittishness that manifested themselves under their stewardship of Vick.

"Some people might say, 'Three years, that seems like such a long time,' " said John Garcia, a manager of the dog operation at Best Friends, who has done extensive work with the Vick pit bulls. "But we measure their progress in baby steps, especially when they were on the other side of this for as long as some of these dogs were."

Moral dilemma

Vick made his way into the news late this season by suggesting he might someday want to be a dog owner again. The comments prompted a flurry of opinions, with the U.S. Humane Society and even President Obama weighing in, but the folks at Best Friends stayed mostly silent.

They released a two-sentence statement saying that, given what his dogs have been through, the quarterback shouldn't qualify as a dog owner. But Best Friends also has conceded that Vick has put a brighter spotlight on the problem of dogfighting and the rehabilitation of pit bulls than they ever imagined possible.

"I'd have to say that he brought attention to the issue in a rather unfortunate way," said Best Friends co-founder Francis Battista. "It's like people dying in a burning building. It brings attention to the fire codes. It's not something you ever want to happen, but now that it's become public and been addressed, there's a positive.

"But how do you rank the damage and pain he caused?" Battista says.

The sanctuary

At Best Friends, a 3,800-acre sanctuary that's home to 417 dogs, 658 cats, 340 rabbits and a few dozen horses, pigs and parrots, they prefer to celebrate success stories.

There are small victories, such as the days when Little Red gets approached by a group of unfamiliar people and stands there, wagging her tail and waiting to be petted. And there are big ones, such as the days when the dogs find permanent homes, the way six of the 22 that originally were brought to Best Friends have thus far.

"When they announced on TV that Michael Vick was eligible to play football again, I lost every single bit of inner peace," said Erika, who adopted one of the Vick dogs, Oliver, and didn't want her last name used because she doesn't want herself or Oliver to be targeted for harassment. "But I thought, 'No, no, no. Don't get angry. Don't let a person like that ruin you.' If I can't control what happens to him, I can control what happens to me, and I can channel this anger into a big bunch of love."

So she met Oliver, the dog they said would never kiss a human, but who now sleeps with his pet parent and showers her with kisses every morning when she wakes up.

"The ironic thing to me is, all along, Vick was the, quote, superstar, but all you ever hear about is how great his victims are doing," Erika said. "Now, all his victims are the actual superstars. I've got one of the real superstars sitting beside me."

Long road ahead

Many people considered the toughest of the tough to be Lucas, the pit bull who was Vick's top fighter. These days, the biggest problem you might have is prying him out of your lap when you want to stand up.

Still, the scars on his face are impossible to miss. He also has a tick-borne blood disease called Bebesia, common among fighters who suffer open wounds. Despite his excellent behavior, Lucas is one of two Vick dogs who cannot be adopted - he was determined to have had too rough a history to live outside the sanctuary.

As is illustrated by spending time with the one-time champion and current sweetheart, the cruelest twist in the Vick story is that the QB and his cohorts took advantage of the pit bull's instinctive desire to please humans by turning them into fighters who were rewarded by their masters for success in the ring.

Eventually, Vick and company got caught.

In April 2007, about six dozen dogs were seized from Vick's Bad Newz Kennels operation and Vick was subsequently sentenced to 23 months in federal prison.

He was reinstated to the NFL for the 2009 season and has been doing public-service work, most notably in conjunction with the Humane Society of the United States, which calls his story "the strongest possible example of why dogfighting is a dead end."

Not everyone sees it that way, however.

His recent suggestion that getting another dog "would be a big step for me in the rehabilitation process," and the debate that ensued, left some wondering if he truly feels remorse for what he did.

"If you got the sense that every day, he woke up and lived with that and wrestled with that, I think there would be a different response from the animal-loving public," Battista said. "That's not what he has communicated. It's not to say he needs to do it. But if there's any confusion of why a big chunk of the public doesn't feel that he's genuine, that's why. There isn't a sense of him connecting with his own behavior and own conscience at a level that most people can understand."

So while football fans and animal lovers continue to judge Vick on very different scales, the dogs in Utah keep taking two steps forward and one step back.

Another of Vick's prize pups, Georgia, recently had knee surgery, and while she's still a camera-loving attention-grabber, some of her progress was slowed in the aftermath of the operation.

Willie, one of the toughest cases among the Vick dogs, is getting better at interacting with new people but still has medical issues stemming from his own bout with Bebesia.

All these problems are correctable, Garcia insists. And time is on all these dogs' side.

"Some say if a dog is bred to do something, you can't undo that," Garcia said. "But to me, that's like saying if everyone in your family has always fought in a war, you're a warrior and you're destined to do this. Not true. Everyone's an individual. You can choose your own path in life. Same with dogs. The only difference is, they can't choose it. We choose it for them."