Dating Douglas “Dogman” would include:
• You were a new volunteer at the shelter, eager to help and gain practical experience for your veterinary studies.
• He didn't like you at first. You asked too many questions and sometimes even questioned his methods.
• You: "You sure that type of diet is good for her? It doesn't seem she likes it." You said it softly, not as an accusation, but as a genuine observation. You pet the dog gently.
Him: "Yes, I'm sure."
But you didn't back down. You looked from the dog's clear disinterest to his rigid posture.
You: "Her body language says she's nauseous. Maybe we could try something else? To warm it up maybe for her? Just to get her started."
• He was usually indifferent to such suggestions, but you were driving him crazy for some reason. It was because you were right, and you cared enough to see what he had missed.
• When you found out the shelter was going to be closed due to funding cuts, you wanted to help. You did everything you can to bring attention to the problem. The shelter ended up staying open, and your efforts brought in a new wave of dedicated volunteers.
• That was the moment he realized you weren't his enemy. You were the ally he never asked for and desperately needed.
• You saw past his gruff exterior to the endless kindness and genuine, selfless love he had for every creature in his care. It made your heart melt for him.
• One evening, as you were packing up, a quiet panic settled in him at the thought of you leaving. He realized he didn't want you to go and felt excitement knowing you'd return.
• Him: "So, I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it.
You: "Sure, I'll be here at 10," you said, smiling at him.
• Later he was terrified he had misunderstood your kindness, your soft smile. He decided to try, at the very least, to ask you out as a friend.
• The next day his words came out in a hesitant rush. Him: "I thought maybe you'd like to try that Italian place not too far from here?" He expected a 'no'.
You: "I'd love to. Thought you'd never ask."
• He hadn't had such a good time in years. Conversation with you felt easy, flowing from dogs to books to stupid childhood stories. He laughed, truly laughed, and the sound felt strange and wonderful in his own ears.
• At the end of the evening, standing under the yellow glow of a streetlamp, you had enough courage to lean in and kiss him. It was soft, brief, and it changed everything.
• He avoided you the next day. He didn't respond to your calls. The realization had hit him like a physical blow: he was in love. It didn't feel like the distant attractions of his past. It was terrifyingly real. You weren't an untouched dream like Salma —you were here, in his world, and the idea of his heart being broken again, or worse, of him breaking yours, filled him with pure terror.
• You: "You know, if you didn't like me, I'd appreciate you at least being brave enough to say it to my face."
Him: "What do you want from me?" he asked exhausted.
You: "What does it look like I want? I like you, and I thought you felt the same. But if I was wrong..." Your voice trailed off, but you weren't wrong.
Him: "I can't give you a normal life. Don't you understand that? You deserve more than... this." He gestured at the shelter, at himself.
You: "Let me decide what I deserve and what I want. The only reason for me to leave you alone is if you don't feel the same."
• And of course, he did feel the same. More than he knew how to say.
• You felt excitement just from being around him, from the simple joy of talking with him for hours in the quiet of the evening.
• He started taking extra job every Friday. The extra money was for you: for a proper dinner, for a book you said you wanted. He wanted to provide, to give you something gentle.
• You: "It hurts you, I don't want you to do that just for me." You touch his cheek gently.
Him: "It's not just for you, I promise." And it wasn't. It was for the future he was starting to dare to imagine, a future that included you.
•The idea of moving in together came from you. You suggested finding a neutral space, a home that could be "theirs".
•He was immediately, visibly terrified. But you didn’t push you let the idea settle.
•He chose the place. It wasn’t big but when you unpacked all the boxes it felt like home.
•He was reading for you at the evenings. You would cuddle into his side, your head on his shoulder. He would sometimes pause, press a kiss to your hair, and continue, making you smile.
•You were cooking together. The meals were rarely perfect, but they were always shared.
•He told you about his past. He told you about the cold of the cage, about his father's anger, and the utter silence of the world that did not save him.
•You listened. You held his hand when the words were sharp and ugly. You did not offer pity, which he would have rejected, but a profound, steady understanding.
•And here, living together with you, he finally, truly felt accepted and loved by someone.