Adopting my dog wasn’t something I had planned.

But animals have always been part of my life.

I grew up with them, and I’ve always done what I could to help the homeless ones.

 

Our first meeting happened on November 20, 2014 – a cold, rainy day.

 

While browsing the Internet, I came across a heartbreaking adoption post shared by the Radzyń Animal Welfare Association “Podaj Łapę”.

It felt like it was screaming for help.

 

It said that one of the volunteers had found a young, freezing little female dog curled up near a store in Radzyń.

Was she abandoned there on purpose, hoping someone would notice her?

Or had she walked a long, exhausting journey to get there?

 

Whatever happened before, she was trembling, starved, and terrified.

Most likely abused.

 

I didn’t think twice.

I called the association and offered to take her in as a foster.

 

At the time, my boyfriend and I were living in a small rented studio – fostering was all I could offer.

That same day, after her first vet visit and initial exams, the little dog came home with me.

 

She was scared.

So thin. So broken.

 

For the first few days, she refused food and water.

She couldn’t go to the bathroom.

Even walking was a challenge.

Her legs were too weak to go down the stairs.

 

She mostly stayed curled up on her bed.

But sleep gave her strength.

And with time, she began to recover.

 

I believed in her.

I believed she could overcome the trauma.

 

And then, one day – her tail wagged for the first time.

 

 

 

Our walks grew longer.

She started eating, drinking, and going outside like any other dog.

And in her beautiful eyes, I saw something I hadn’t seen before:

Gratitude.

 

She followed me everywhere.

She met my friends and family.

Every single day we spent together, my love for her grew stronger.

 

We had already been through so much together.

There was no way I was letting her go.

I couldn’t imagine her going to another family.

 

Her foster home had quietly become her forever home.

She had become part of my everyday life.

 

 

I gave her a name: Marcelina Scarlett – though I usually call her “Marcysia.”

A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.

 

I love her for her spirit. Her strength. Her will to survive.

She is my little warrior.

 

I’m so proud of how far she’s come.

Every day, she gives me more love than I ever thought possible.

 

We play.

I spoil her with treats.

And I do everything I can to make up for what she’s been through.

 

 

She came to me when she was just 7 months old.

What happened before… I’ll probably never know.

But I imagine it was dark and painful.

 

She has scars. A crooked nose.

But to me, she’s perfect.

She’s the most beautiful dog I could have dreamed of.

 

 

I love when she welcomes me home.

When we nap together.

When she wakes me with a kiss in the morning.

When she falls asleep curled up with my shoe.

 

It’s an honor to call her mine.

 

Adopting Marcelina is the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.

I’ve never experienced happiness like this before.

 

She’s my pride.

My joy.

And a life I’m responsible for – one I will always protect.

 

If you’re thinking about adoption – do it.

There are no words to describe the feeling. I mean it.

 

If my housing situation becomes more stable (I’m still renting for now), I will absolutely adopt again.

There’s room in my life – and in my heart – for more tails and wagging happiness.

 

Because there’s nothing more powerful

than changing the life

of a dog who’s been thrown away.

 

And knowing they chose to love you anyway.