Hi, my name is Remy. Some also know me as Rocky. Both names tell a part of my story—one that has been filled with twists, turns, and lots of heart.

My story begins when I was found one quiet morning on the side of the road in Greenville, NC, by a cranky guy in a strange truck. Back then, I had a little microchip in my neck—a tiny beacon meant to help me find my family. But when animal control scanned me, there was no information to be found; the chip had never been registered, leaving my past shrouded in mystery. At the shelter, I was called “Royal.” I guess someone there saw me as a regal prince, despite how terrified I was to be there. When my friends at New Ratitudes rescued me, they chose a name that matched my fighting spirit: Rocky.

After spending some warm, loving days in a foster home in South Carolina, I embarked on a new adventure. My foster family drove me to meet my new “furever” family in Atlanta, GA.

I became an instant friend and loyal protector to my new human. In our snug townhome in the heart of the city, I was finally the center of attention! I was allowed to join my new family at the dinner table (where I always sit nicely and wait for my blueberry or chicken). I also get to snuggle with my humans in their bed. (I especially love burrowing under the sheets when I’m chilly). I was able to enjoy frequent walks. We also attended “school” together for 10 weeks, where I learned commands like come, sit, heel, and lay down. I was a star during those long walks and training sessions. Obedience practice filled my days with joy and purpose because I will do anything I can to make my people happy.

You see, protecting the ones I love isn’t something I learned—it’s a part of who I am. My deepest desire is to keep my pack safe at all costs, and sometimes that means I get a bit reactive when I sense even the slightest threat. I can become stressed at times, with the weight of needing to keep everything in order. But my humans learned to anticipate my stressors and help me avoid reactive situations. When my humans are assertive and lead me confidently, I can relax. I quickly learned that I can trust them.

After only a couple of months together, I was just as surprised as my humans were when we all found out there was going to be a new human baby in the home soon. Sadly, my “center of attention” days would be short lived.

Over time, life got even busier. Walks grew shorter, and there were always new faces coming and going to take care of the baby. (I sometimes find new faces hard to trust at first, so I find myself waiting in a separate room until they are gone.) The new community where we live is getting cramped now, full of other dogs. (I don’t trust them either.) But I still try my best to be the best boy.

What about the human baby, you ask? He is growing every day. I love him and would never hurt him, but it stresses me out to try to protect him AND to dodge his trains and cars and soccer balls. I spend a lot of time hiding under the couch these days, not at all like when I first came to live here and got to sit in people’s laps a lot. To be honest, I find the greatest comfort in the steady presence of adults— preferably ones who have time to sit on the couch sometimes.

For my next phase of life, I’m hoping I can find a human who can return my calm and steady pace of life, like the good old days. I dream of a quieter life—maybe in a home with a big, open yard where I can chase squirrels and deer, nap in the gentle sunlight on a peaceful porch, and feel the calm of a close-knit family.

Will you be the one? Can we walk and run and play and snuggle together every day? Will you be my firm (yet loving) guide and teacher? In return, I promise to be your snuggle buddy, protector, entertainer, and friend.