Today I Was Adopted, But I’m Still Scared… I Just Want to Be Loved

Today should have been the happiest day of my life.
After weeks — maybe months — of waiting behind shelter bars, someone finally chose me.

I heard the words, “We’ll take him,” and for a moment, I couldn’t believe it. I wagged my tail cautiously, unsure if it was real. I didn’t bark, I didn’t jump — I just stared, wide-eyed, as they put the leash on.

You see, I’m a black dog. Not a puppy. Not a designer breed. Just another dark, quiet face in a crowded shelter. And for dogs like me, adoptions don’t come often.

So yes, I’m scared.
Scared that this new home might not last.
Scared that the car ride ends back at the shelter.
Scared because I don’t know if I’m truly wanted — or just another impulse.

But please, be patient with me.
I might flinch when you raise your hand, even if it’s only to pet me. I might hide under the table when voices get loud. I might sleep near the door — not to run, but because I’m still afraid of being left behind.

I’m not bad. I’ve just known fear longer than I’ve known love.

All I want is a chance. A quiet space. A gentle voice. A warm corner where I can rest without worry. A family who sees past my color and my silence — and sees me.

Today I was adopted.
Tomorrow, I hope I’ll begin to believe I’m home.
And maybe someday soon, I won’t be scared.
I’ll just be loved.