Ambre and Onyx arrived at a difficult time for Rancho Peludo. We had just lost a puppy, Athéna had disappeared, and many hard things had piled up. The pack and I needed softness. Something simple. Some light.
Their mother didn’t live exactly on the street. She stayed in the yard of a house whose owner had passed away. Neighbors were doing what they could, but the situation was fragile, and the puppies would most likely have ended up on the street.
I decided to go get Amber and Onyx. Not because there was a dramatic emergency, but because for once, they weren’t puppies already broken by life. They weren’t traumatized. And I wanted to apply what I’ve learned over time: anticipate rather than repair.
Their names weren’t chosen randomly. Amber and Onyx are durable, solid materials. I adopted them to be my anchors. Small, steady beings to hold onto when everything feels too heavy.
Ambre is the little black one. Discreet, shy, but stubborn.
Onyx, the brown one, is a clown. The official class clown.
They are “normal” puppies. Well-balanced. They make mistakes, they test limits, they learn. They don’t carry heavy trauma-related anxiety. And in a refuge where many dogs are extremely nervous, anxious, or deeply affected, that feels incredibly good.
For once, I knew in advance that I was going to adopt dogs. I bought them a bed. A toy. I almost never do that, because most of the dogs I rescue arrive unexpectedly. This time was different. This was a conscious, chosen adoption.
There’s nothing spectacular about their story. No dramatic rescue. No miracle. Just two puppies who needed a safe place, and who found a simple, protected life.
And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.
