I am Aramis. The story of a dog who remembers.

In the text, from the interview. My name is Aramis. I am a Cane Corso. My breed is older than many empires. We were there when the walls fell, when the ships returned, when man first began to speak not out loud, but with his eyes. It is not just instincts that flow into us - the dreams of our ancestors flow into us.
I have lived for nine years. It is not much by human standards. But you often forget: we live in fullness, not in length. Every day for us is not a date. It is a smell, a look, trust, anxiety, a return. A morning in which you hear the breath of family. An evening where the silence between you is greater than any words.
I was born in a land too loud for a puppy. The roar, the anxious wind, the empty streets, the smell of iron in the dust. I had nowhere to hide - and that was my first lesson. Fear is not the enemy. It just comes before other feelings. It calls to your character.
Then – the path. Movements, hands, people. Someone held tightly. Someone was in a hurry to give. I was in reliable, but temporary palms. I was not afraid, but I did not trust either. Because I knew: my person is not nearby yet. I felt – it was not him. Each of us has a compass in our chest, and it does not lie.
And here it is - a meeting. Not with a new one, but with one of your own. A real person for a dog is not the one who gives the command. A real one is the one with whom you walk in the same rhythm. Who hears your gaze. Who knows how to wait when you are silent.
I've been with them ever since. And I haven't changed families. Because a dog is not a guest. It's a vow.
We traveled across Europe together. Sometimes, like on a blade. There were roads without shoulders. There were days when you had to be calm, when even adults got lost. And there was a flight. I was six years old, not young. We were given a task: an exam. Without it, they wouldn’t let us into the sky. Three days. I knew that I could do a lot, but I realized: now you can’t be lazy. I suppressed my excitement, put aside my pride, and learned. Not because I was ordered to. But because we had to go through this together. I could have been capricious. But I didn’t. When it’s important to everyone, you become an adult overnight.
Then the sky. A long flight, alone. Metal. Vibrations. Foreign smells. No voices. But I sat quietly. Because I was told: We will wait for you there. And I knew that a word is not a sound. It is a bridge.
When the plane landed, I didn't realize it was all over. There was no sense of home. It doesn't come on schedule. It comes when you see eyes. When two cats run to you, one with character, the other has already left. And you grieve together. Grief is also family.
Now I am nine. I have become bigger - in body and in other things. I walk less, my legs hurt. But I play when the house is quiet. I sleep - for a long time, because sleeping safely is a gift. I do not hold grudges. I draw conclusions. I do not live in the past. But I remember. Because memory is not sadness. It is the point from which you began.
I am Aramis. My name is old. My heart is open. I don’t give up. Never. Even when the world shrinks to a cage or luggage. Because I know: my man and I are alike.
And if I had one chance to say something to him, I would say:
- How similar we are. And how good it is that we met.