Brian

🐾 Hello. My name is Brian… and this is the story of how I found my way back to love. 🐾

Once upon a time, I wasn’t afraid of the world. I was a proud working dog — a true gun dog, born and bred in the fields of Yorkshire. With my Kennel Club papers and a clean bill of health, I was one of the strong ones. One of the good ones. I lived for the chase, for the whistle that sent me soaring, for the wind that kissed my ears as I flew across the land. I was fast, focused, fearless.

But then… something changed.

My ears started to hurt. My tooth ached. And one day, a loud bang — one I used to shrug off — made me flinch. Then another. And another. My brave heart began to tremble at the sounds that once thrilled me. What I was trained for… what I loved… suddenly became the thing I feared the most.

As if that wasn’t enough, I was attacked by another dog on the farm. After that, the people who raised me tried to protect me. But eventually, they gave me up.

I lost my job. I lost my purpose. I lost my person.

I went from being someone’s shadow — their loyal, trusted partner — to being no one’s. Just… left behind.

But then… a light in the dark. A new family saw me. Really saw me. They looked past the trembling, the flinches, the sadness. They saw a heart that still beat with love. A soul that still longed to belong. They brought me to their home — not a cold kennel or muddy field, but a warm, safe place with soft beds and even softer voices.

It was all so new to me. Carpets felt like clouds. Cuddles made me freeze at first. Sticks? I cower.  But this family — they were patient. They taught me that kindness doesn’t have to hurt. That some humans use their hands for love, not commands. That food can be tasty and tummies can heal. Mine did — with a special diet and time.  I also gained a lovely sister called Mrytle who I live with presently.

Now I sleep peacefully in my crate. I feel secure there. I’m still learning — every single day — and I try so very hard. When I run, I still remember the fields. My legs go before my brain does. But I need to stay on a lead, in places where I feel safe. My recall isn’t perfect — yet. But I’m trying.

I get nervous around black Labs — they remind me of what happened. I don’t mean to be unfriendly. I’m just a bit anxious, and I like my space. Sudden noises like clattering dishes, soda cans, or raised voices still scare me. Sometimes I hide, or I chew to soothe myself. But give me a Kong with treats or a lick mat, and it helps me feel calm again.

Here’s the thing: if you move gently, if you speak kindly, I will come closer. If you give me your patience, I will give you my heart. I love affection once I feel safe. I truly do. I light up for children — they make me feel young again — but I’d do best in a quieter home, where calm is the rhythm of the day.

I’m still figuring out how to greet other dogs on walks. I never learned that part of being a “pet.” But I’m willing, and I just need guidance and grace.

I travel well. I try to please. And I’ve been told I have a truly good heart. I’m healthy, vaccinated, and even good at the vet.

What I need now… is you.

Someone who understands that healing takes time. That trust can’t be rushed. That broken things don’t need fixing — they need love. Someone who won’t expect pawfection, but will treasure progress. Someone who enjoys quiet strolls, who might like to try scent games with me — my nose is still sharp as ever.

I may have lost the field, but I’ve not lost my spirit. I’ve still got miles to go — and love to give in every step. I’m not giving up.

I just want a home. A real one. The kind where I’ll be safe. The kind where I’ll be wanted — forever. If you give me your heart, I promise I’ll give you mine.

And until that day comes, I’ll be here.

Waiting for you.

With all the love I have left to give,
Brian 🐾