Sunny

Age: 10 months old Sex: Male Breed: Shepherd/Border Collie Mix Weight: 35 pounds Good In Home With: Dogs

In another life, someone might have painted her in the sky instead of on earth.

She’s 10 months old, about 44 pounds of soft mystery, wearing a coat that looks like it was stitched from pieces of night—stars tucked into her fur, galaxies hinted in the shadows. Her eyes are the quiet kind: deep, wondering, and full of questions about a world she’s still deciding she can trust. Look closely, and you’ll see it—the complex simplicity of beauty and love, waiting to be understood and cherished.

She’s shy at first, the way the moon is shy before it rises. New places make her pause. New sounds make her think. City life, with all its sirens and sidewalks, is not something she knows yet. But she knows other things: she knows what it feels like when someone is gentle, when patience is real, when hands move slowly and voices stay soft. She knows that love is possible. 

Around other dogs, her bravery wakes up and fast. It starts in her feet, then moves to her tail, and suddenly she’s following, sniffing, mirroring—learning that the world can be fun instead of frightening. Dog siblings would be her guides and her guardians, her teachers and her playmates, showing her that rustling leaves and creaky steps are not monsters at all, just life happening. A home that loves the outdoors—a yard, a trail, a patch of woods, or just a park they visit every day—would give her space to unfold, petal by petal.

Once she feels safe, her true self begins to shine through like dawn after a long night. The playful puppy appears, full of silly hops and zoomies. The sweet girl shows up, pressing her head into your chest, asking quietly for one more minute of comfort. She’s goofy and tender and then, in the next breath, steady and thoughtful—an old soul in a young body, wise and solid beyond her months.

Some dogs are just dogs. She is something more. She comes from a bloodline of magical beauty and good witches—the kind who heal with presence, who cast spells made of patience, who protect their people not with fangs but with unwavering loyalty. In her, the stars and galaxies have taken on a gentle shape: four paws, a hopeful heart, and a soul that wants nothing more than to finally exhale and belong.

All she’s waiting for is the right heart to see her, really see her—to recognize that her quiet is not emptiness but depth. That her hesitation is not a flaw but a doorway. And that on the other side of that doorway lives a once-in-a-lifetime companion, silly and sweet and full of magic, ready to love you with the whole universe inside her.