He doesn’t know it yet. In the back seat, curled up — a Poodle, strong in body but trembling now. His chest is broad, but his breath is heavy. His eyes are tired, like a fighter who’s lost too many rounds. He doesn’t know that this ride isn’t to another shelter — it’s taking him home. For months — maybe years — he’s only known fear and punishment. Once, he was called a “guard dog” — always chained, always shouted at, always waiting for a touch that never came. He learned to stay quiet, because b