Growing up, we had a menagerie of pets — dogs, turtles, fish, birds, rabbits, etc. When I got married, I inherited a half German Shepherd, half-wolf mix who hated white people. (Seriously). My husband was banished from the back yard for the first 2 years of our marriage until I was away one weekend and they went head to head. My husband won and the dog became his after that.

After that dog passed away, our cat adopted us. Since her disappearance last November, we’ve toyed with the idea of getting another pet. I really wanted a dog, my husband really wanted a cat. So, I told him I thought I might want another child. He agreed to the dog. 🙂

We visit the pound every other week with the slim hopes that our cat might show up and while there, I drag him through the dog kennels. A few days ago we were there and there was a sign posted of a Pit Bull Terrier needing a new home. The flier said that the dog was docile and a “good judge of character.” So we called.

First red flag: the owner had a lot of rules. She said it would take 2 weeks to acclimate us to the dog and that we’d have to come over 4-5 times a week. She also said the dog would pick its new owner. I chalked it up to her wanting to give the dog up to a good home. I could understand that. So, with trepidation, we made our way to the house, feeling like we were auditioning for American Idol or something.

As we approached the front door, a big red BEWARE OF DOG sign greeted us and Tim leans over and whispers, “Um, does it make you nervous that this docile, loving dog has signs posted everywhere to warn people off? I shook my head and said, “well, it’s the breed of dog, there have to be precautions.” Once inside, the owner gives us a 20-minute talk about the dog as he peers at us through the sliding glass door. She explains that she wants to take us one at a time to “meet” him when she puts him in the kennel and then he’d tell her if we were a “good fit.” “He’s a really good judge of character,” she repeated as she led Tim outside.

For five full minutes, I waited and wondered if I really wanted to jump through all these hoops for this docile, loving, scary, character judging, badly reputed 80lb monster. Would we ever be able to invite people over to our house again?! It as then I heard two short barks. The owner comes in and says, “I’m sorry, but no, it won’t be a good fit.”

In the car, I asked Tim what happened and he said the dog stared at him for five minutes and then he barked.

Apparently, we were judged and our character was found lacking.