Size
(when grown) Med. 26-60 lbs (12-27 kg)
Details
Good with kids,
Good with dogs,
Good with cats,
House-trained,
Spayed or Neutered,
Story
🐾 MEET KOA: HE’S DOING HIS BEST. HIS BEST IS VERY WEIRD.
Meet Koa, a 3-ish-year-old professional goober, enthusiastic friendship collector, Olympic-level cuddler, and a dog who appears to be navigating life with zero instructions and tremendous confidence.
Koa’s story started out incredibly rough. When he was found, he was severely emaciated and in terrible health. He had clearly been through far more than any dog should.
And yet, somehow, Koa emerged from that experience with one major takeaway:
EVERYBODY IS GREAT AND I WOULD LIKE TO MEET THEM IMMEDIATELY.
People? LOVE THEM.
Dogs? LOVE THEM.
Cats? LOVE THEM, TOO.
Someone he met seven seconds ago?
“I have waited my entire life for you.”
Koa has never met a stranger.
He has only met people who haven’t realized they’re his best friend yet.
And Koa is not casually friendly.
He is aggressively delighted that you exist.
You walk into the room?
OH MY GOD, IT’S YOU!!!
You leave for five minutes and come back?
OH MY GOD, YOU SURVIVED!!!
You’ve actually been sitting beside him the entire time but briefly looked in another direction?
HELLO AGAIN!!!
Every reunion is emotional.
THEN THERE’S THE BOBBLEHEAD.
Koa does not walk like other dogs.
Most dogs have a fairly straightforward system:
Left foot.
Right foot.
Move forward.
Koa apparently received different instructions.
His body walks.
His head freelances.
Bobble. Bobble. Boing. Bobble.
It looks like someone assembled a perfectly functional dog and then got to the final step and said:
“Eh. Head’s probably tight enough.”
It was not.
Watching Koa trot happily toward you is like watching a dashboard ornament become sentient and decide it loves you.
There is absolutely nothing dignified about it.
Which is perfect, because there is absolutely nothing dignified about Koa.
HE IS ALSO A VERY BUSY MAN.
Koa has things to do.
What things?
Unclear.
But they are apparently EXTREMELY IMPORTANT.
He must inspect the yard.
He must locate the toy.
He must relocate the toy.
He must investigate what you’re eating.
He must follow you into the kitchen.
He must follow you back out of the kitchen.
Wait.
WHY ARE WE GOING BACK TO THE KITCHEN?!
Koa is coming.
He doesn’t know what the mission is.
But he is HONORED to have been selected.
His general approach to life is:
“I have no idea what’s happening, but I would like to be involved.”
PLAYING IS SERIOUS BUSINESS.
Koa loves to play, and he brings the kind of enthusiasm normally reserved for people who have just been told they won a new car.
Toy?
BEST DAY EVER.
Another dog wants to play?
BEST DAY EVER.
You made eye contact and moved your hand slightly?
IS THIS A GAME?! BEST DAY EVER.
Everything is potentially the best day Koa has ever experienced.
Koa has been alive approximately 3 years and has already had several thousand Best Days Ever.
THEN THE BATTERY DIES.
Eventually, the chaos subsides.
The bobbling slows.
And Koa transforms from unlicensed cruise director into a 45-pound emotional support weighted blanket.
Because this man LOVES to cuddle.
Unfortunately, Koa’s understanding of cuddling is slightly different from yours.
You might think cuddling means:
“We sit beside each other.”
Koa thinks cuddling means:
“I will now merge our physical forms.”
Next to you is unacceptable.
Koa would prefer on you.
Possibly inside you.
If he could crawl into your sweatshirt and live there like a marsupial, he absolutely would.
Personal space is not something Koa recognizes under current law.
AND YES, HE HAS OPINIONS.
Koa is not afraid to provide feedback.
Dinner taking a little too long?
He has notes.
You stopped petting him?
Interesting decision.
You closed a door between yourself and Koa?
That seems illegal.
And every once in a while, he’ll unleash that ridiculously deep BORK that sounds like it belongs to a dog named Brutus, Guardian of the Underworld.
Then Koa comes bobbling around the corner looking like he just forgot why he walked into the room.
The disconnect is spectacular.
BUT HERE’S THE BEST PART ABOUT KOA.
After everything this boy went through, he is just happy.
Ridiculously, wonderfully, infectiously happy.
He doesn’t seem interested in dwelling on his past.
Koa has important things to focus on now.
Like:
Friends.
Playing.
Cuddling.
Snacks.
Finding out why you went into the bathroom without him.
And whatever that thing is over there.
OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT THING OVER THERE?!
He’s sweet.
He’s playful.
He’s dog friendly.
He’s cat friendly.
He’s people friendly.
He’s affectionate.
He’s hilarious.
He has approximately three brain cells, and we strongly suspect two of them are assigned to cuddling.
The third one is currently buffering.
Koa is essentially a Golden Retriever personality running on pit bull hardware with bobblehead suspension.
He is chaos.
He is love.
He is enthusiasm.
He is somehow both the life of the party and the guy asleep on top of you 20 minutes later.
And most importantly, he is an unbelievably sweet dog who survived a terrible beginning without letting it change the way he sees the world.
Koa still thinks people are wonderful.
He still thinks life is exciting.
And he is absolutely convinced his forever family is going to be THE BEST PEOPLE HE HAS EVER MET.
Of course, Koa thinks that about almost everyone.
But this time…
he’ll be right. 💙🐾
