He stands tall, alert, and watchful — a guardian through and through. You can feel the difference in his presence; he’s not just a pet, he’s a protector. “They not like us,” I joke sometimes, but it’s true. There’s a loyalty in his eyes that you just can’t teach.
He reads the world differently. He senses moods, feels tension, and reacts before you can even speak. It’s like having a living, breathing radar for energy and emotion. Where most see a dog, I see a soul that’s tuned in deeper than most people ever will be.
When we walk together, it’s not just steps — it’s connection, trust, and unspoken understanding. They really aren’t like us. They’re better in ways we can only hope to be.
