Justice

Justice <br/>Male <br/>Irish Wolfhound Mix <br/>35lbs <br/>5 months old <br/>Dogs. Kids. <br/><br/>He was the middle one.<br/>Not the biggest, not the tiniest.<br/><br/>Right in the center, where all the glue lives.<br/><br/><br/><br/>His coat looked like it had fallen out of a storybook one night<br/><br/>and decided to stay—<br/><br/>soft smudges of color, gentle lines and quiet magic,<br/><br/>like someone had drawn him with love instead of ink.<br/><br/><br/><br/>“Do you ever feel overlooked?” someone once asked him.<br/><br/>“Sometimes,” he might have said,<br/><br/>“but that’s how I learned to notice everyone else.”<br/><br/><br/><br/>Middle children know how to read a room.<br/><br/>He could tell who needed a nudge,<br/><br/>who needed a laugh,<br/><br/>and who just needed a warm body asleep at their feet.<br/><br/><br/><br/>He wasn’t the first to do everything.<br/><br/>He wasn’t the last to get his turn.<br/><br/>He was the one who watched,<br/><br/>learned,<br/><br/>and then made his own way.<br/><br/><br/><br/>When the older ones were busy being brave,<br/><br/>and the younger ones were busy being small,<br/><br/>he was busy being kind.<br/><br/>It turns out that might be the bravest thing of all.<br/><br/><br/><br/>His magic wasn’t loud.<br/><br/>It was in the way he waited his turn,<br/><br/>the way he shared his toys without thinking,<br/><br/>the way he curled around hurt feelings<br/><br/>like his body was a blanket big enough for two.<br/><br/><br/><br/>“Do you ever wish you stood out more?”<br/><br/>“No,” his eyes would say.<br/><br/>“I just wish everyone knew middle can be the best place—<br/><br/>close enough to look up,<br/><br/>close enough to reach back and help.”<br/><br/><br/><br/>He knew that love doesn’t count positions.<br/><br/>It just fills the spaces it’s given.<br/><br/>And he had so much space in his heart<br/><br/>it felt like a field that never ended.<br/><br/><br/><br/>The truth is, he was made of the quiet kind of special.<br/><br/>The kind that doesn’t shout,<br/><br/>but stays.<br/><br/>The kind that doesn’t sparkle once,<br/><br/>but glows, softly, for a lifetime.<br/><br/><br/><br/>If you ask him what he’s good at,<br/><br/>he’d probably think for a long time<br/><br/>and then offer you his paw.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Because the middle child,<br/><br/>with the storybook coat and the gentle soul,<br/><br/>already knows the secret:<br/><br/><br/><br/>You don’t have to be first.<br/><br/>You don’t have to be last.<br/><br/>You just have to love with everything you’ve got—<br/><br/>right where you are.

Justice
Male
Irish Wolfhound Mix
35lbs
5 months old
Dogs. Kids.

He was the middle one.
Not the biggest, not the tiniest.

Right in the center, where all the glue lives.



His coat looked like it had fallen out of a storybook one night

and decided to stay—

soft smudges of color, gentle lines and quiet magic,

like someone had drawn him with love instead of ink.



“Do you ever feel overlooked?” someone once asked him.

“Sometimes,” he might have said,

“but that’s how I learned to notice everyone else.”



Middle children know how to read a room.

He could tell who needed a nudge,

who needed a laugh,

and who just needed a warm body asleep at their feet.



He wasn’t the first to do everything.

He wasn’t the last to get his turn.

He was the one who watched,

learned,

and then made his own way.



Whe

Justice
Male
Irish Wolfhound Mix
35lbs
5 months old
Dogs. Kids.

He was the middle one.
Not the biggest, not the tiniest.

Right in the center, where all the glue lives.



His coat looked like it had fallen out of a storybook one night

and decided to stay—

soft smudges of color, gentle lines and quiet magic,

like someone had drawn him with love instead of ink.



“Do you ever feel overlooked?” someone once asked him.

“Sometimes,” he might have said,

“but that’s how I learned to notice everyone else.”



Middle children know how to read a room.

He could tell who needed a nudge,

who needed a laugh,

and who just needed a warm body asleep at their feet.



He wasn’t the first to do everything.

He wasn’t the last to get his turn.

He was the one who watched,

learned,

and then made his own way.



When the older ones were busy being brave,

and the younger ones were busy being small,

he was busy being kind.

It turns out that might be the bravest thing of all.



His magic wasn’t loud.

It was in the way he waited his turn,

the way he shared his toys without thinking,

the way he curled around hurt feelings

like his bod