He tilts his head every time I ask, like he’s really trying to decide which one he prefers. Maybe it’s not about the words at all — maybe it’s the tone, the love, the energy behind them. Whether I say “sit” or “siéntate,” he understands perfectly. It’s a bond that doesn’t need translation.
Dobermans are sharp like that — tuned in to every sound, every shift in voice. He’s not listening for language; he’s listening for me. It’s the kind of connection that makes you realize communication runs deeper than words ever could.
So, English or Spanish? Doesn’t matter. He speaks fluent heart, loyalty, and intuition — and that’s a language I’ll never stop learning.
