It was a beautiful winter day—full of dogs jumping, snorting, and going absolutely wild (most of them were pugs). And there we were, the two of us—a couple overwhelmed by all the pug chaos—deciding to step out and get some fresh air during the Pug Christmas Gathering.

 

As we were walking away, a little dog caught our eye.

Or rather—she noticed us first.

 

She wore a small scarf.

And on it: “Adopt me.”

 

 

She stood off to the side, terrified, hiding behind her foster mom.

She had no interest in playing with the other dogs.

 

But we were instantly smitten.

We just knew we were meant for each other.

 

I was a petite 23-year-old who looked 17, and she was a 6-year-old with the face and body of a puppy.

 

When we got home, we immediately filled out the adoption application, went on the forum, read more about her—and it was clear:

Tosia was meant to be ours.

 

Shortly after, we got an email about the pre-adoption visit.

 

 

We actually had two visits—because we made it to the second stage.

On the second visit, Tosia came to our apartment.

 

She looked around, terrified, clinging to her foster mom.

 

We started doubting ourselves.

We were young, renting an apartment, not exactly wealthy.

Were we really the right people for her?

 

But just a few days later, we got the call:

We were going to be Tosia’s new family.

 

We were thrilled—and terrified.

 

Could we really give her what she needed?

 

She had been through hell:

Used for breeding, no teeth, weak back legs, no trust.

 

But as time went on, it became clear that the association had made the right choice.

Tosia had found her loving, warm, forever home.

 

 

Everyone fell in love with her.

Everyone wanted to spoil her.

 

She travels with us sometimes to the countryside near Warsaw, where she runs wild like a little demon—

a far cry from the sad, curled-up dog we first met.

 

She started playing with toys for the first time in her life.

She became confident—even around other dogs.

 

Actually, on the first night—January 15, 2016—she came into our bed.

And she never left.

 

It all took time, but she learned quickly.

 

After just a month, she already knew:

This was her new home. This was her safe place.

 

Would we adopt again?

 

Absolutely.

 

All our animals have been rescued—from our first little Westie to our chinchilla, Stefan.

 

Most people want puppies, believing it’s the best time in a dog’s life.

But with adopted dogs?

 

That beautiful phase lasts a lifetime.

 

 

A rescue dog learns every single day.

And every little victory brings joy.

 

When she overcomes a fear.

When she learns to use the elevator.

When she jumps into our laps, just like that.

 

To adopt a dog, you don’t need a fortune, a huge house, or special training.

You just need an open heart and a little time.

 

Anyone can adopt a dog.

You just need to find your dog.

 

Not a perfect one—because those don’t exist.

And honestly, it’s the imperfections you fall in love with.

 

Tosia can’t wag her tail.

So instead, she clacks her jaw from excitement.

 

She’s every color a pug can be—ginger, black, beige, even grey.

 

She has no teeth.

But that doesn’t stop her from grabbing a bun from the bottom shelf and bringing it to me when I’m sick.

 

 

You love her simply for being,

for being with you,

for letting you help her forget what once was,

and embrace her new life.

 

And to think, all of this happened because of tiny, unexpected moments.

We weren’t even supposed to be at that Christmas event.

Tosia was about to go into heat the next day.

 

We all believe it was fate.

 

And that's why Tosia agreed to donate any potential contest winnings to the Pugs in Need Association—

because we know it will help other pugs find healing and their happy ending, too.