Phyllis the pit bull has a disadvantage: her facial expression is one of extreme concern. This is an unhelpful trait in a dog seeking adoption on an online profile. It’s what you might call a problem of resting bitch face.

Phyllis, 2, has other notable traits, such as that “she wants to crawl under your skin and be attached to you,” says Annika Howland, manager of the Behavior Modification Program for dogs at the Oregon Humane Society. “She jumps and claws, and she vocalizes inside the kennel because she doesn’t like to be alone.” Yet when not alone, “she’s very vocal, lots of jumping and climbing.” Also, “she’s overly excited about everything in her life. When she feels happiness, she feels so much happiness that it just kind of explodes,” says Howland. “I equate her to Tinker Bell, who only has room to feel one emotion at a time.” But back to the resting sad face. Don’t be deceived. “She is truly a joyful, happy, excited beefcake,” says Howland.

Oregon shelters have long struggled with what to do with animals like 70-pound Phyllis, who possess the potential to eventually be a Portlander’s very bestest friend, yet are not quite ready for civilized society. “When Phyllis is out in the world, if she sees something, she wants to smell it, and pulls really hard," says Howland. Enter OHS’s Behavior and Rescue Center, which opened a year ago and houses up to 15 dogs for weeks or months of training.

Though the training program has been around for years, the new space provides its participants with a respite from the main shelter, where dogs ranging from fearful to over-the-top reactive live in pods of 24. Many are too stressed out to effectively learn. “It really wasn’t designed to [house] a dog or cat for several months, which some of these animals need, if not longer,” Laura Klink, media relations manager, says of the main shelter. The pods in the new center hold six kennels each, with a workstation in the middle, allowing dogs to be grouped by temperament or even housed solo.

Which brings us back to Phyllis. Her previous owner was houseless, and she eventually landed in Washington County’s Bonnie Hays Animal Shelter, which cares for pets but does not facilitate adoptions. No other facility would accept Phyllis. Howland assessed Phyllis and concluded that she was plenty capable of learning manners. The main task: teaching her to think before acting.

The behavior program resembles doggie rehab, and dogs average 53 days there. Mornings start with feeding and cleanings, followed by a 9 a.m. outing, which might be a walk or field trip with a runner, or a play yard visit, or all three. Then comes a training session, sometimes in a faux living room, where dogs might be left to see how they behave when home alone. A much-needed quiet time comes at noon, followed by another outing and training, and early dinner, all facilitated by a half dozen techs and trainers, plus one or two volunteers a day.

Phyllis is a quick study: in just two weeks, she learned how to not topple the person holding her leash, how to not careen through doorways, and how to not overwhelm other dogs with her zeal. Also, “she’s jumping up on people significantly less,” says Howland. Phyllis graduated from the Behavior Modification Program in late November, and is now available for adoption, which includes personalized guidelines on how to be successful with Phyllis at home. Staff are available for basic support and problem solving.