A IMPORT MESSAGE FROM PAW-PARENTS MERVE & ANIL;
"When Kumi first entered our lives, we didn't really know what to expect.
When adopting a dog, people usually imagine the beautiful moments: walks together, playtime, a happy tail greeting you when you come home… That’s what we imagined, too. But over time, Kumi taught us that adoption isn't just about sharing the good times.
We adopted Kumi through Pets in Turkey and brought her from Turkey to Germany. From the moment we first saw her, we wanted her to be a part of our lives. However, adjusting to a new country, a new home, and an entirely new life was a process for her as well as for us. And things weren't always easy.
Initial Challenges
We wanted Kumi to adapt to her new life in Germany as well as possible. To do this, we decided to take her to dog school. The scenario we had in mind was quite simple: she would socialize with other dogs, learn new things, and gradually become more confident. But what we experienced that day was very different from what we had thought.
When Kumi saw the other dogs, she was so scared that she suddenly slipped out of my hand and ran away. In that moment, training, commands, socialization… all of it lost its importance. All I could think about was finding Kumi and seeing that she was safe.
When we found her, she was terrified. Kumi had been hit by a car while running away. When we took her to the vet, we learned that her leg was broken.
From that day on, our lives changed instantly. Kumi was forbidden from walking for an indefinite period. We had to pick her up three times a day to take her outside so she could relieve herself, then carry her back home in our arms. We constantly monitored her movements, closely followed her recovery process, and waited for the day she could walk comfortably again.
Sometimes we were exhausted, sometimes we were very worried. We were in the middle of a recovery process where we didn't know exactly how long it would take. But Kumi needed us, and for us, there was never any other option.
As the months passed, we began to see small improvements. And after about six months, the good news we had been waiting for finally arrived: Kumi had fully recovered.
Today, seeing her run, go on long walks, and continue her life in a healthy way is still very special to us. Because in every step she takes, there is a small piece of those days when we used to carry her outside in our arms three times a day.
Perhaps the most important part of our story with Kumi began exactly here: not on the day we brought her into our lives, but on the day we chose to stay by her side when she needed us the most.
This event taught us something else about Kumi as well. An environment that seemed ordinary to us could be very frightening for her. We would never fully know what she had experienced in her past. But instead of seeing her fears as "problems" that needed to be fixed immediately, we could try to understand them.
Understanding Her World
From that day on, our perspective on Kumi changed. Instead of trying to force her to adapt to our lives as quickly as possible, we began to understand her world. When does she get tense? At what distance does she feel safe? What does she do when she encounters another dog? When she wants to move away, are we giving her enough space? Most importantly, we learned that Kumi's pace didn't have to be our pace.
Instead of pushing her, we observed, continued her training, and began to value small progress. Because we were no longer measuring progress only by "how many commands does she know?"
Sometimes progress was her looking at us instead of panicking when she saw another dog.
Sometimes it was her sleeping peacefully on the sofa alone.
Sometimes it was her acting more relaxed in new settings.
And sometimes it was a tiny tail that had been tucked between her legs for months finally starting to wag.
And sometimes just her nudging us with her paw to be petted.
Today
Over time, Kumi has changed too. Today, we have a dog in our lives who goes on walks with us, has established her own routine at home, and has found her place alongside Fiko and Bal. But perhaps the most beautiful change is not something visible: Kumi now sees us as her home. Her wanting to sleep next to us, following us around the house, coming over to be petted…
Harmony is Built Together
Sometimes, when people see that an animal they have adopted is not behaving as they expected in the first weeks or months, they may think it "has not adapted." Of course, the circumstances of every animal and every family are different. But if there is one thing we learned with Kumi, it is that harmony does not come ready-made.
Harmony is built together.
With patience, training, vet visits, sometimes with worry, sometimes with days where you ask "How are we going to solve this?", and with hundreds of small, beautiful moments…
We think we put a lot of effort into Kumi. But in reality, we were not the only ones putting in the effort in this story.
Kumi also put in a lot of effort to trust us.
She came to a new country. She tried to get used to new people, a new home, new rules, new sounds, other dogs, and even two cats. She learned to cope with her own fears and to trust us.
As we taught her to trust, she taught us to be patient.
Looking back today, I see that adopting Kumi was not just about adding a dog to our lives.
We learned to become a family together.
Perhaps this is exactly what adoption is:
It is not telling an animal, "I am with you while it is easy,"
It is saying, "We will find solutions together when we struggle."
I am so glad our paths crossed with Kumi thanks to Pets in Turkey.
Glad we tried to understand her instead of giving up in hard times.
Glad we took time to learn each other's language.
Because today, Kumi is not just a dog we adopted.
Kumi is our family"
