Share Emotional Liberation with Becca Williams
Ron’s and my little Portugal household got bigger this week... officially adopting the newest member of our family.
After three weeks of by-the-law fostering (a waiting period in case an owner steps up), we went to the canil in Portimão (”dog pound” sounds so harsh in English) and made it official: Welcome to your forever home, Willow!
I had been quietly stalking rescue org pages for months looking for a smaller female dog, younger than our 11-year-old mixed-breed velvet loaf, Sawyer, also a rescue, who’s been ruling the house like a tiny 9-pound princeling for the last decade.
The mission was very specific: find a companion with the right temperament to fit into Sawyer’s carefully curated kingdom.
We had actually tried fostering another dog before Willow, but within days Sawyer was basically applying for witness protection. The younger female was sweet but endlessly exuberant, and Sawyer, who prefers a low-key lifestyle, spent his days searching for peaceful hiding places. So… not quite the fairytale ending we hoped for.
Then came this little girl.
Her story is heartbreaking and beautiful in equal measure. A woman named Andrea, while caring for an elderly man in a nearby town, noticed a thin, skittish little dog poking around in his garden. When she asked about her, he shrugged and said he threw food out to her “once in a while.”
So Andrea, disturbed by his lack of concern, started putting food out for her through the long, cold, rainy Portuguese winter. For two months, by feeding her she tried to gain her trust, but the little dog was terrified and would run away every time. Eventually, Andrea managed to lure her inside with food and gently catch her.
This is where I come in, I saw an emergency foster plea from the rescue org (all of them are overflowing with dogs right now) for this 12 pound, 2-3 year old shy female. BINGO. I called immediately, dragged Ron and Sawyer into the car, and we drove to meet this unnamed little creature Andrea had temporarily started calling “Molly.”
And honestly? We knew pretty quickly.
She was calm. Gentle. Completely deferential to Sawyer, who immediately approved of being treated like the tiny aristocrat he believes himself to be.
The first days were… an adjustment. Willow scavenged constantly outside, clearly used to surviving however she could. She jumped on our bed and peed twice (which, according to AI, was apparently because she finally felt safe enough to relax 😅). She also held her pee and poop while outside because street dogs, we were told, learn very quickly that squatting makes them vulnerable to attack. That was tricky potty training!
But day by day, she’s relaxing... trusting... learning routines. Learning softness.
As Ron says, Willow seems deeply grateful. Her tail starts wagging and somehow the rest of her follows in a small tidal wave of joy. She cuddles like she’s making up for lost time. She’s a little needy right now, but after what she’s been through, who wouldn’t be?
We renamed her Willow because willow trees symbolize resilience, flexibility, and quiet grace. They bend instead of breaking, which feels exactly right for a rescue dog who’s been through hardship and still somehow shows up gentle, loving, and full of hope.
And the biggest sign we knew this was right?
Sawyer sleeps peacefully beside her.
Maybe why rescue stories move us so deeply is that they remind us that safety changes us… gentleness changes us… Love changes us.
You can almost watch a nervous system slowly realizing it no longer has to survive.
And honestly… humans aren’t all that different.
If you want to experience (or continue experiencing) what an inner shift feels like, join me for my next Elevation Ceremony coming up this Sunday. It’s free, live online, and exactly the kind of practice that helps the body, mind and soul begin releasing old survival patterns.
Come experience the subtle but profound shift – always recorded so you can have the experience beyond our live session. Although I do love when you’re able to make it live!
For details and to register, click here.
With Love,
Becca
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