On Friday, January 3, 2025, I was driving home from running a few errands when I got a call from Birmingham Dog Rescue asking if I could foster a six-month-old puppy who was going to be euthanized within the hour. He had been surrendered at a police station and urgently needed a foster.

I hesitated. We had adopted a five-year-old pitbull just a year earlier, and she was finally settling into a routine. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to a high-energy puppy, and I didn’t want to disrupt her progress. But after calling my family—who were thrilled at the idea of having a puppy for the weekend—I agreed. There was already a foster lined up to take him on Monday, so I figured we could keep the dogs separate if needed.

I’ll never forget when the transporter opened the back of the van. Inside was a crate, and curled up in it was a frightened dog with the saddest eyes I had ever seen. All I could think was how badly I wanted to hold him and make him feel safe, even if just for the weekend.

As Tyson stepped out of the crate, I asked, “Where is the puppy?”

The transporter smiled and said, “That is the puppy.”

At six months old, Tyson was already twice the size of my dog, Serena. I immediately thought—this is going to be an interesting weekend, especially since Serena wasn’t the biggest fan of other dogs.

They say it takes at least three months to get to know a foster dog, but in reality, it can take a year. I only had three days to make Tyson feel safe and loved, while also making sure Serena was okay. But something unexpected happened—almost instantly, Serena began to mother Tyson, taking him under her wing. And Tyson welcomed every bit of it. They had an incredible weekend together.

While I was sad to see Tyson go, I was also ready to return to our routine. But, as it often happens in the rescue world, his next foster backed out. We had no choice but to keep him until another placement—or his forever home—was found.

Within the first month, I came to know the sweetest, most gentle soul. Tyson was big, goofy, and endlessly silly. He didn’t understand his size or his strength, but when you looked into his eyes, you could see straight to his soul. Every day, it felt like he was thanking me—for a home, for love, for safety. I truly believe he knew we had saved him. If not from death, then from a life where he hadn’t been properly cared for.

He was nervous at first, unsure of people, but hopeful. He wanted so badly to trust, to belong. And because he believed in me—and with a lot of patience and work—Tyson made incredible progress.

It didn’t take long for me to fall in love with his big green eyes and even bigger heart. He has an incredible ability to read emotions—better than most humans. If I’m having a bad day, he knows. Of all the dogs I’ve had in my life, each holds a special place in my heart—but Tyson is different. He’s just special.

You might not see it if you pass him in the backyard on Suffield Ave or on a walk. But if you ever get the chance to truly know him, you’ll see a dog who understands he was given a second chance—and who makes every single day count.

I’m happy to say Tyson is now part of our family. As his owner, I can say without hesitation—he is probably the most loving member of it. Everyone says how lucky he was that day that we saved him. But the truth is, we’re the lucky ones. 

After all, it's not every day that you meet a dog who was saved, who makes every day count. And who ultimately gifted us with more love than we could have ever asked for.