We brought him home today, not knowing what to anticipate. Considering his difficult background as a rescue dog, we thought he might be timid or uneasy as he got used to his new environment. But within moments, it became apparent that we had misjudged him.
He walked down the hall, peeked into the bedroom, and leaped onto the bed without hesitation. He nestled into the blankets, wriggling with delight, and settled in as if he’d been waiting for this for ages. “Did he just…?” I asked, astonished. He looked at us as if we were slow to grasp something he already understood: This was his home.
Laughing, we understood—he hadn’t just been waiting for a home; he’d been dreaming of this. This bed, this life, was what he’d envisioned while at the shelter. Now, it was finally his.
The following hours revealed his true nature: a dog brimming with confidence and happiness, claiming every space, rolling over for belly rubs, cuddling, and settling into every available lap. Each wag of his tail seemed to say, “I’m home.”
As we ate dinner, he curled up beside us, looking up with grateful eyes. It was clear—we weren’t just giving him a home. He had given us a family.