So I fucked up. I had the best of intentions, but it backfired in my face.
Our friend, Zach, needed to go to training until May 14 and needed someone to foster his dog for a couple weeks. He's helped us out before so we said yes. Turns out I completely misunderstood the issue.
His dog, Apollo, is a boxer-staffordshire mix. Or at least that's what the humane society told him. But they are notoriously bad at identifying breeds. Like really bad, strangely enough. This dog is almost certainly pit bull. And the reason he needs it fostered? It bit his girlfriend's son. It has food aggression and the 2 year old tried to take Apollo's bone. Snap. Didn't break the skin so it wasn't an all-out attack, merely a warning nip. But the father of the child RIGHTLY says that his kid can't live in the same apartment as this dog until the dog has been trained. So the DOG goes into training on May 14. His choice was to either give the dog away, put the dog down, or the girlfriend moves out.
This dog and my dog do NOT get along. My dog is very laid back and this dog is aggressively curious. He doesn't attack my dog, just lunges at her to play. And my dog freaks out, which causes the growling to start. So for the next THREE WEEKS I'm going to be living in the basement with this dog. He's a nice dog, but we have to keep them separated.
My quarantine just went on hard mode.