"Looks can be deceiving. We all know this, but still most of us choose our products, friends and animals by their packaging. A case in point, we have a dog in the Pen Pals program that looks a bit mean. Her face carries a serious, intense expression and there is nothing cuddly about her. Yet Bonnie is a most affectionate, gentle, playful dog.

Many of us call her “wiggle butt” because when she wags her tail with delight, her entire hindquarters bend and twist. She bends in two with joy. She’s quick–intelligent–eager to please–and has the soft mouth of a bird dog. (She did in fact catch a bird but merely held it to no harmful effect.).

Unfortunately however, something in her tiger-striped muscular body reminds people of a pit bull (though this inexpert expert thinks she more resembles a Staffordshire Terrier). Thus they label Bonnie as fierce and predatory. She is not. She plays with dogs of all types, temperaments and of both sexes. But then in spite of her excellent behavior and training, she goes un-adopted. While other dogs–cuter but of dubious character and uncertain obedience (perhaps prone to nipping, barking or what’s known as “resource guarding”) adopt out quickly.

Because so many people look at Bonnie and say, “Oh, she has pit in her. She’s scary.” I looked up the official breed information on American Pit Bull Terriers. It states they are excellent with children, but should be monitored around other dogs. It stated nothing about problems with aggression.

Of course, there have been horrible, highly publicized cases of pit bull savagery. I believe that in all those cases, dogs were either specifically trained to be aggressive or had benefited from no obedience training or socialization.

When I was a youngster, I had my face severely bitten by a St. Bernard. Not a breed noted for its viciousness, so in spite of his behavior, because of his non-violent label, he was deemed safe. Five years later after biting me, he bit another child. But because he was a beautiful specimen of a popular breed, he lived out his life as a stud breeder.

On the other hand, without really knowing anything about Bonnie’s bloodlines, but supposing her pit mix, we label her a potentially dangerous. (Incidentally, Bonnie’s original owner dumped her because she was not aggressive enough. She is, in fact, shy with strangers and fearful at dusk of large bushes that wave in the breeze.) Thus a truly special animal–one with a giant heart, a fun nature, and great agility of mind and body–is stuck without a home. A dog of lovely temperament and solid training is passed over because of a label.

We do this with people too: other races, nationalities, beliefs. (Just for the record–all Muslims are not fanatical; all Africans are not illiterate; poor people are not dirty). And, we do it with criminals. For example, a so-called violent offender may be someone who held up a convenience store with a hairbrush. I know a woman who is serving a life sentence for a crime where no one was hurt. She’s now served 22 years and is confined to a wheelchair but is repeatedly denied parole because she is labeled as a violent offender.

For all I know, Bonnie is part pit. But she is also part lots of other dog. We too are made up of many parts and our most visible part, our crime, may not be the true determining factor as to whether we are violent, dangerous or predatory. Nonetheless, like Bonnie, it’s a label that keeps us from going home." (Elizabeth Haysom, Fluvanna Review, October 18, 2007)

Elizabeth Haysom is incarcerated at the Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women, in Troy, Virginia (ten miles east of Charlottesville). Her columns appear monthly under the general title, Glimpses from Inside. Here is an index to these columns.