01/06/2026
Yesterday, we went to the shelter to meet the Rottweiler girl we planned to adopt.
We had everything ready—treats, toys, all the excitement of bringing home a new family member.
But the moment we saw her, our hearts sank.
Rottweilers are usually known for their strong confidence, watchful eyes, and deep loyalty to their people—
but she was nothing like that.
She was curled up tightly on a small bed… eyes heavy with fear, her body held stiff—
as if the familiar brave, steady Rottweiler spirit had disappeared.
It felt like she hadn’t known safety or trust in a very long time.
The volunteer spoke softly,
“She’s been here for quite a while… very fearful, very shut down. And because she’s a Rottweiler, people expect confidence and strength—so most just pass her by.”
The way she lay there—silent, exhausted, broken on the inside—
broke something deep within us.
I looked at my partner…
they looked back at me…
No words were needed.
I simply said,
“We’re taking her home.”
The ride back was quiet.
Rottweilers usually sit calmly beside you, observing everything, their presence alone offering reassurance—
but she just sat still, head lowered.
Yet every now and then, she lifted her eyes—
watching the light fall across her black-and-tan coat…
as if slowly remembering that the world isn’t entirely frightening.
That night, she curled up on her new little bed in the corner of her room and fell asleep—
maybe feeling safe for the first time in a very, very long while.
One dog.
One fragile heart.
And an entire life of love waiting ahead.
Welcome home, sweetheart—
you’ll never have to face the world alone again.🥹🥲