We weren't expecting to get another pet. Our second cat had just passed less than a year ago, and we definitely weren't ready to attach ourselves to another animal. Sure, my mother had talked about eventually getting a dog, but it was never a concrete plan of action. We had no way of knowing what was about to enter our lives.

When we saw her, our hearts melted. She was a skinny thing, teetering around with bundles of energy despite her feeble frame. As soon as she noticed us getting out of our car to meet her, she was excited to no end. We'd come to meet her after hearing her story.

... probably tried to make her fight... bred her to have litters of puppies... dumped on the side of the road... ears haphazardly cut off...

None of that was reflected in this dog's nature. She waltzed right up to my younger sister and went nuts with excitement over having another person to play with. A week later, we took her home with us and gave her the name "Kiya."

Pit bulls have an extremely bad rep as being "fighting dogs" and "vicious and aggressive" animals. As soon as we took her home, it became clear to us that she did not fit that description whatsoever.

I'd always had a phobia of dogs. Even if my friends had any, I did whatever I could to avoid them. This continued for years and years, until Kiya came into the picture.

I wish more people would be tolerant of the fact that pit bulls actually exist. When the word "pit bull" is spoken, people automatically recognize it as pertaining to a dog bred to fight for a living. As time went on, this general consensus became more and more apparent. The situation that has annoyed me the most about this intolerance to pits happened after one of Kiya's first visits to the vet.

We'd attempted to introduce Kiya to my mother's friend's pit bull, Hoss, because we knew they would be seeing a lot of each other. While on a walk, Hoss growled at a couple walking by. Almost immediately, Kiya pounced on his back and bit him, sparking a fight between the two. Both walked away with considerable battle scars, and both visited the vet that week. We'd tried thinking of reasons why Kiya would have snapped, taking into consideration her past experiences of abuse. We assumed she would have triggers, but we hadn't seen any until that moment.

While coming out of the vet's office, my sister began leading Kiya out of the lobby with a biscuit so she wouldn't get overwhelmed by the other dogs in the room. A lady with a yellow lab suddenly pulled her dog close to her and said, "Don't let your dog near my dog." Rachel was speechless. Still, she stayed quiet and continued bringing Kiya to our car. If only the woman knew how Kiya reacted to a situation weeks later that no one would ever think possible for a pitt to handle.

While taking Kiya for a walk, I passed a neighbor's driveway where a woman was getting her toddler and infant into their car. Kiya made an immediate beeline towards them, so much that I couldn't pull her back. I became worried, but my reaction changed in an instant after she sat in front of the toddler and let him pet her, occasionally licking his face and making him laugh. She gave attention to the mother, but was much calmer around the infant she was holding. We'd had to stop her from jumping on people out of excitement before, but this was unusual for her. It was almost as if she understood how she needed to behave and completely flipped a switch. As her owner, even I was surprised. If that isn't giving a finger to the world view of pit bulls, I don't know what is.

Whoever still thinks that pits are scary and mean dogs, I dare you to meet Kiya. I dare you to hold that same viewpoint afterwards. Most importantly, I dare you to tell me to get my dog away from your dog.