I’m not easily fooled. I’m raising two teenage girls and a 10-year-old boy and I have to be on my toes at all times.

So I knew something wasn’t right when the woman on the other end of the phone last week told me to meet her in Rhode Island at an abandoned construction site at the end of a dead-end road with $500 cash. Yes, my radar went up, but her sweet Southern accent and the item she was offering drew me in.

She would have the goods and I’d have the money. No, I haven’t begun dabbling in the drug trade. “The goods” in this case was a 11/2-year-old wheaten terrier she had named Hollywood.

Hollywood is beautiful. He was found along with two cats and a rabbit at an abandoned house – at least that’s what it says on the Web site. Hollywood needs a home. My home desperately wants a dog.

I’ve been searching for just the right dog since the death of my 18-year-old cat in December. Like pretty much everything else in today’s high-tech world, the Internet has made searching for just the right pet a whole lot easier.

From my home office I can search through dogs available for adoption at shelters all over Maine and beyond.

There was Charlie, a young bulldog at a shelter in Skowhegan who I thought would work out well. My husband talked me out of it. There was Gus, a 3-year-old Pomeranian at the Bangor Humane Society, but he was snapped up quickly by someone else. There was Latte, a baby schnauzer at a southern Maine shelter, but by the time I got that application filled out he was on hold for someone else.

Then there was Hollywood. He was posted for adoption through a New Jersey rescue outfit that claims to foster dogs all over the country. I filled out the lengthy online application (they wanted to know the square footage of my house and my family’s annual income) and sent it off. They in turn e-mailed me to let me know the e-mail address of the person fostering Hollywood.

The next day I received a call from Betty in Arkansas. Hollywood was nowhere near New Jersey; he was in Arkansas. I was willing to take a road trip to New Jersey, but I sure as heck wasn’t going to Arkansas.

Betty talked a lot and I found it difficult to get a word in as she went on and on about what a perfect boy Hollywood was. Before I knew what was happening, Betty was telling me that she would e-mail me directions and she and her helper would bring Hollywood as far as Rhode Island.

She told me the drop point was near a Fairfield Inn, but they didn’t want to meet me there because “what would people think.” Instead, I was instructed to take the nearby dead-end road and meet their RV at the construction site.

She also told me Hollywood might not look just like he did in his online picture because she might have to shave his hair because he was so matted. She said while the dogs at her home eat very well, they limited the food on the journey to New England so that bathroom breaks could be minimized.

Despite my serious reservations, my heart kept trying to find a way to make the situation work. I discussed it with friends, who of course thought I was crazy for even considering it. Finally, I said to someone that I probably should take a can of pepper spray with me.

“If you feel compelled to take pepper spray to this meeting, then it might not be such a good idea,” the person said.

I e-mailed Betty and told her the deal was off.

I called Jeff Mitchell, executive director at the Bangor Humane Society, and told him I thought I had taken a brief trip to the dark side of the “dog rescue world.”

He agreed that the whole thing sounded a bit fishy. They should not need to know your family’s annual income, he noted, nor should they want to meet you at an abandoned construction site.

While Petfinders.com, the oldest and largest searchable directory for adoptable pets, has been a bonus for legitimate shelters and kennels, it also has clearly become a site that can be abused by backyard breeders who are selling, not rescuing, dogs.

“You should always want the chance to see the place where the dog you’re adopting comes from,” Mitchell advised. “If they want to come to you or meet you in a parking lot, it could be a signal that something is wrong.”

Adopters also should insist on veterinary records and even ask to speak to the veterinarian to ensure the animal’s health.

I probably would have ended up taking something away from that construction site, but who knows what it would have been.

Right now I’ve got to run because there is the cutest little golden Lab named Maxie at a legitimate shelter in southern Maine.

Renee Ordway can be contacted at rordway@bangordailynews.net.