Three days ago, I decided: it’s time to do something noble. An animal shelter is the perfect place! I’d meet him there: a kind veterinarian in a white coat, and together we’d bandage a puppy’s paw... Yeah, right. 😂

Instead of a vet, I was met by Baron—a cross between an Alabai and a cement mixer. Baron decided I was his long-lost favorite toy. As soon as I entered the enclosure with a food bowl, those 40 kg of pure joy jumped on me, knocking me into a freshly dug hole. Result: my new "dusty rose" jeans turned into "dirty apocalypse," and my face was thoroughly polished by a wet tongue. 🐶👅

The irony? At that exact moment, a cute volunteer guy walked by. He looked at me lying in the mud under Baron’s bulk and said, "Oh, cool, you bonded with our most aggressive dog! By the way, there’s poop on your sneaker." Romance! I realized that dogs love you no matter what—even if you smell like a wet carpet and a grain warehouse. It’s more honest than dating. I rode home in a taxi, catching glares from the driver who seemed ready to kick me out on the highway. But hey, Baron is happy!