Is Georgia your average Heinz 57 mixed-breed shelter dog, or is she a pit bull, or is she both? Or does it matter? Regardless of her true genetic makeup, her size, short fur, wrinkled forehead, and silly ears had her labeled a pit bull — a black one — and all but sealed her fate at the county shelter.

Five or six year old Georgia came in as a stray, severely underweight, with bad ear infections, terribly rough skin, and swollen, puffy paws from allergies or who knows what. As with many shelter dogs, nothing is known about her past. The big, prominent callouses on her elbows suggest a lot of time spent laying on concrete or another rough surface; her fear of doorways, stairs, and the sound of kitchen appliances suggest a non-domestic life prior; but her honey eyes and love of hugging suggest a heart of molten gold.

Like many black pit bulls do, Georgia sat at the shelter waiting for her perfect family to come along — for two and a half months. Much like Little Zee, Georgia was shy at the shelter, tending to linger in the back of her pen rather than bouncing and wiggling at the front soliciting attention. Lucky for her she caught the attention of a few shelter staff, and became a quick favorite — a status that eventually led her into our home and into our hearts.

Much of Curious Georgia’s personality is still a mystery, since she has only been with us a few short days. But certain things are starting to emerge. She is housebroken. Very mild. A little timid. Chases balls and bats them around, but won’t put them in her mouth. Gets to know people by sniffing every inch of their face with a wistful look in her eyes. Loves to hug. Desparately seeks love. Great with kids. Loves to lay down and roll around in sunny, grassy spots. Sleeps curled up into a little lima bean shape at night, with her nose tucked under her back leg. Dreams of a loving family of her very own.

Sound like your dream dog?

So we knew it wouldn’t be long, but we were thinking it would be maybe two or three months — enough time to pack, move, and settle in to our new life — before our next foster. So how did it turn into two days?

Meet Georgia.

It’s been a tough couple of months at our county shelter. Everybody is working hard to push dogs out to rescue and foster, boost adoptions, and bring in donations to sustain the precious, fragile lives the county is responsible for. But it’s been the kind of spell that gives shelter workers nightmares. Adoptions are down because of the great adoption specials that neighboring jurisdictions are offering, and the dogs keep coming in. Two and three and four at a time. Kennel space is rare, and sometimes nonexistent. From time to time, heartbreaking decisions have to be made.

Curious Georgia was about to be on the receiving end of one of those heartbreaking decisions — a last call — when her personal angel showed up. A woman who works at the shelter and can’t have a dog but pulled her anyway because she just couldn’t bear to lose this girl’s honey eyes and disposition to match. She thought maybe if she could just hold on to sweet Georgia for just a few days, the stars would align and this tender little life would be saved.

So we stepped up. Two minutes after I met Georgia, she was wistfully sniffing every inch of my face. Ten minutes after I met her, she was curled up in a tight ball in my lap, and my heart was already making room.  Two days later, she was snoozing peacefully under our dining room table. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m sure glad it did. Come along for the ride– you’ll be glad you did, too.