The first pitbull I brought home to foster was Jolie Pitt.
It was summertime, and I got an email from a local rescue about a 4 year old female pitbull they had taken in. The rescue took her to be spayed, and then learned the sad truth that she had been used over and over again as a breeder dog.
Jolie began bleeding profusely during routine spay surgery, and the vet almost lost her. He ended up having to give her a complete hysterectomy, and instead of being able to return her to the kennel, someone had to come and take her home to foster. I saw her picture, and it was of a sad, pathetic, very sick dog that no one was sure would make it through the weekend.
My husband, who will tell you in no uncertain terms that he wants absolutely nothing to do with dog rescue (but time and again will find himself in my back seat cradling random homeless dogs) said, "Ok, go ahead. Tell them we'll foster her."
We picked her up and Rob carried Jolie Pitt to our car and laid her down on the backseat, where she slept with her head on Rob's lap.
For the first week she slept most of the time. Our two German Shephards, Roxy and Foxy, took turns babysitting her. If they got up to leave the room, Jolie would cry, and one of them would turn around and sit next to her until she fell back to sleep again. We had a crate for her, but we left the door to it open. She was crate trained and housebroken and aside from the day she ate our Tivo remote and one beach sandal, she was pretty good.
She had a head like a crocodile, but our goofy dogs would take turns stealing her toys and drop kicking her across the yard. One day I looked outside to see Foxy proudly shaking a half dead groundhog in her jaws. Roxy looked so disappointed that she hadn't gotten to eat the groundhog first. As I shreiked and chased them both around the yard, Jolie Pitt stared at them in horror and wouldn't move from the porch.
Jolie Pitt was eventually adopted to a family with three women who adored her, and because of her, I became interested in bully breed rescue.