Those of you who know me well know that I love animals. I love dogs and cats (even though I am allergic to cats) and I love going to well maintained zoos. Last night, I had an animal visitor.

My mother and my son came to Tennessee from Texas and California, respectively, for Christmas. Jonathan flew back to LA today (Tuesday) and Mom will fly to Houston tomorrow from the Nashville airport. Since the airport is 3.5 hours away from my new home, the three of us came to my Murfreesboro house (which is only 40 minutes or so from the airport) Monday night. We ordered a pizza for dinner and, as the delivery person walked away, I looked down and there sat a black pit bull terrier wagging his tail off. I said hello, petted his head, and in the house he came. He was the sweetest, friendliest guy! Jonathan decided to walk him around to the neighbors to find his home. No one knew the pup…..and all of them backed way up when they saw him. Jonathan tried to reassure them that he was very friendly, but no one trusted a pit bull. We took him to a 24 hour vet to see if he was micro chipped and he was not. They determined he was between six months and a year old.

We came back to the house and, since Mom is highly allergic to most dogs, sat outside on the back patio with the dog. We were trying to figure out our next move when the neighbor dogs started barking at ‘our’ pup. He never barked back, just backed away from the fence when the others barked. One neighbor came outside and said, “You never found his home?” Jonathan replied, “No, we may have to let him sleep here tonight.” She replied, “Not if he makes all the neighborhood dogs bark.” Wait…what?! He doesn’t make a peep other than the thumping of his wagging tail, but he’s causing trouble!

My son decided to sleep in the car with him. Then his Mema convinced him to come in and sleep upstairs with the door closed. Jonathan is 6’3″ and slept on a love seat……with the dog on top of him part of the night. They bonded.

This morning, I called several vets, contacted rescue and humane society groups, searched the Internet….all to no avail. As an absolute last resort, we finally brought him to PAWS, Pet Adoption and Welfare Services for my county. In other words, the pound. I cried, offered a hefty donation if they would keep him until he was adopted, but was informed it doesn’t work that way. They keep him three business days for owners to retrieve lost pets. Then they assess him to see if they think he is adoptable. If not, euthanization. He’s friendly, playful, loving and wants to be loved. But–through no fault of his own–he was born a Pit Bull.

I wonder how many people are out there that are friendly, loving, and want to be loved but–through no fault of their own–were born in the ‘wrong’ country, state, city, neighborhood?