My wife started a dog rescue operation in Alabama focused on getting dogs from Animal Control and shipping them north to NY or PA where they don't have enough dogs. We sent a shipment to MN and ME once too. Usually we had to foster them for a week or two until we had enough to make a shipment. We had a local network of fosterers but we also had about 150 dogs come through our house over two years. A lot of them are blurred or faded in my memory but a few stand out. This one dog, Callum, came to us. He was a pit bull and looked the part. I think he'd come from a fighting ring or something because he had cuts and scars all over. I was nervous about this one, especially because I had two youngish kids and he looked intimating af. I just figured he'd if you come from a fighting background he'd probably carry some attitude and defensiveness, but holy shit this guy was the nicest dog and was so calm and respectful. He'd sleep between my feet on the floor when I worked from home, he followed me around the yard off leash, he never fucked with our dogs or even the chickens, and kids loved him. When we took him to the vet to get him neutered before shipment, the vet called and said he found shot gun pellets in the testicle. Some fucking asshole shot this dog in the scrotum to keep it from breeding. I really wanted to keep him, but if we did he'd have been our 4th dog (plus 2 cats and bunny), and fostering would have been too hard so we sent him north. His new owner sent us a video a few months later of Callum wrastlin' with his new brother pit bull in front of the Christmas tree in PA; a very happy ending for Callum. I still get a little teary thinking about that dog and all he'd been through.