I've found my furever family!

Auditioning for a Human. But Don't Waste My Time.
Alright, let's skip the cute stuff and get straight to the point.
I'm not your average shelter sob story. I’m a genetic masterpiece of chaos. My DNA test came back looking like a world tour gone wrong: Pittie, Husky, Shar-Pei, a dash of Chihuahua for spice, and—get this—2% WOLF. Yes. A wolf. I am literally part wild animal. So, no, I will not be "good for a first-time owner."
The Bare Minimum You Should Know (My Demands):

• I'm a Shut-In. You like breweries? Patios? Farmer's markets? Good for you. I don't. The outside world is a horror film, and everyone is a monster. I will not be your social accessory. My idea of a good time is judging you from the couch while you watch Netflix. Prepare to be a hermit with me.
• A Canine Mentor Is Strongly Suggested. Let’s be clear: learning how to be a normal dog from a human is like learning to cook from a cat. It’s not gonna work. A confident, well-behaved dog in the house would be a game-changer for my confidence. They can show me the ropes. If you don't have one, you'll have to be my one-and-only emotional support human. Good luck with that. You've been warned.
• No Tiny Humans. I don't do kids. They are loud, fast, and unpredictable. It's a hard pass. Your crotch goblins are a dealbreaker.
• I'm Medicated for Your Convenience. I take Fluoxetine for my crippling anxiety and Apoquel for my bougie skin allergies. I take them like a champ because they're wrapped in cheese, and I am, despite my wolfish dignity, a slut for cheese.

• I Won't Ruin Your House. I'm kennel and potty trained. I ring a bell when I have to go outside. I'm not a barbarian.
• I Have Basic Training. I'll sit, shake, and lie down if you're not being weird about it. I do this in exchange for chin scratches, which are my primary love language.
• I'm a Runner. I hate slow, meandering walks where strangers can look at me. But I will run. If you're a jogger, we might just get along. It’s the only time my prancing-reindeer legs feel free.
• I'm a World-Class Snuggler. Once I've decided you're not a threat (give it a few weeks), I will fuse my body to yours on the couch. You will become my human pillow.

Why I'm Still Single (The Juicy Gossip):
Adoption events are my personal hell. I shut down. I become a black, furry statue of anxiety. People walk by and whisper, "He looks sad." I'm not sad. I'm actively wishing for the sweet release of being back on my foster mom's couch. This is my marketing problem: the goofy, prancing weirdo you'll get at home is not the dog you'll meet in a crowded room. You have to see past the terrified statue to get to the good stuff.
The Bottom Line:
I am a project. A fixer-upper. A neurotic, beautiful disaster. I'm a black dog that looks like a Shepherd but is actually a wolf-mutt with the soul of a Victorian ghost who is scared of everything.
I need a specific kind of weirdo. Someone who hears "2% wolf" and gets excited, not scared. Someone who reads "crippling anxiety" and says, "Same." Someone who is looking for a loyal, goofy, complicated companion to share their quiet life with.
If you are that person—if you have a confident dog (or nerves of steel), no kids, a fenced-in yard, and hands made for scratching—then fine. Apply. Let's see if you've got what it takes.
Otherwise, keep scrolling. I don't have the energy for tourists.