Meet Kai — and the Pink Lamb

I thought I’d introduce Wealthy Affiliate to the newest member of our pack.

Some of you who have followed my journey here know the story of Mia and the battle she fought last year. When you live with these animals long enough, you eventually learn something important — you know when it’s time to open the door again.

You listen to your heart.

And you watch your pack.

They usually tell you when the time is right.

Last week, I drove down to Seattle and brought home Kai, a long-haired German Shepherd from Westside German Shepherd Rescue in Los Angeles. He’s about three years old and, like many rescue shepherds, he arrived with a past we can only guess at.

Anyone who truly knows German Shepherds understands one simple fact.

Everything gets evaluated.

And I mean everything.

You.
The house.
The furniture.
The exits.
The tone of your voice.

And yes…

even the pink stuffed lamb.

Kai evaluating the famous pink lamb — a very serious decision for a shepherd.

When I first met Kai, I intentionally reached out to touch him.

Not because I didn’t understand the risk, but because I do understand the breed.

A German Shepherd, like any dog, might warn you… or he might bite you.

(And let’s say that being bitten by a shepherd brings a new meaning to the word ouch.)

Thankfully, Kai chose to warn me.

Politely.

Twice.

Anyone who understands the breed knows that a polite warning is still a warning.

Message received.

That was all I needed to know.

I took the lead from the handler, and the rest is still being written.

So instead of forcing the issue, we started with something simple — a squeaky toy.

A pink stuffed lamb.

Shepherds love squeaky toys, and in our house, that’s become something of a tradition that started with Tia. There’s something about a big “ferocious” German Shepherd carrying around a pink stuffed animal that tends to reset people’s assumptions about the breed pretty quickly.

The exercise was simple and deliberate.

I sat a few feet away.
I squeaked the toy.
I set it down.
I stepped back.

And I let Kai decide what to do.

Eventually, he would walk over, pick it up gently by the ear, and carry it back to his safe spot.

Yesterday we repeated the exercise, this time much closer.

It became a quiet game of give-and-take.

More importantly, it became an exercise in trust.

I would offer the toy.
He would take it.
He would release it.
I would take it back.

Over and over.

At one point, I was sitting less than two feet away from him — and I still hadn’t touched him.

No pressure.
No rushing.
Just patience.

After about 45 minutes, he finally settled down… resting against the lamb as it belonged to him.

And then, about twenty minutes after we stopped our lamb negotiations, everything shifted.

We both reached out and touched this unsure little beast.

He finally let me slip a leash around his neck, and off we went for a walk with our current shepherd whisperer.

Today, as expected, he took a step back.

No problem.

That’s where you practice humility and check your ego.

Because when you’re working with a rescue shepherd, you must take as much time as needed.

You are on their time.

They are evaluating you just as carefully as they are evaluating their environment.

And sometimes…

apparently…

They’re also evaluating a pink stuffed lamb.

For those of you who followed Mia’s journey last year, you’ll understand this part. When you live with these animals long enough, you eventually learn that the pack has a way of telling you when it’s time to open your heart again.

Sometimes the next chapter walks through the door quietly…

and starts negotiating with a pink lamb.

The journey with Kai is just beginning, but I have a feeling this little guy is going to be something special.