Hi there! I’m Kyon.
You might notice there’s something a little different about me. So let me save you the guessing—I’ll tell you my story.
It’s not an ordinary one, but it’s the reason I’m here today, living in Prague with my very own human, Lucka.

When I was just three months old—basically still a baby—I got hit by a car. I don’t remember much (puppy brain and all), but the nice ladies who cared for me later told me what happened. Someone brought me to a vet clinic in Orava and said I should be put down. Because of the car. Because I was “too broken.” But you know what?
The vets looked at me and said, “Nope. This little guy’s not done yet.” And they saved my life.

There, they whispered to me often: “One day, someone will love you exactly as you are. Not in spite of your limp. Because of it.” They said we’d go on big adventures together. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded like fun. I had a cast on my right back leg for a while, which made walking kind of funny. But it never slowed me down! I had a cat buddy named Simba, a doggy friend Caesar (we looked almost like brothers), and a foster aunt who taught me how to sit, stay, and be a good boy. She helped me believe I was brave—even with one slightly off-duty paw. The leg still didn’t work right. But I thought, “Hey, I’ve got three others. That’s plenty!” The humans, though? They wanted more for me. So they came up with a plan: send me to a big city in the Czech Republic—Prague—where smart animal doctors could take another look at my leg. I just needed a ride. Enter: Lucka.
A young woman heading back to Prague after visiting her parents in Slovakia. She often helped transport rescue pups, and this time, she agreed to take me along. We met for the first time at a gas station. A boy dropped me off so Lucka didn’t have to drive too far out of her way. And the moment I saw her—I just knew. My tail went full helicopter mode.
We got in the car and hit the road. It was Sunday. The highways were packed—so many of those four-wheeled monsters—but I didn’t mind. I noticed Lucka had books in her bag. Naturally, I borrowed one. (Dogs read differently, okay? We chew. It helps us process the story.) As the trip went on, we started to click. I kept looking at her, thinking: “Maybe… maybe she’s the one.” The windows were open, the wind in my fur—it felt like a movie.

We arrived at the organization, Home for Pets. The plan was: they’d take care of me while I got checked out.
But then we heard—no foster home, no adopter, no real next step. And Lucka? She didn’t like that one bit.
I looked at her. She looked at me. I saw it in her eyes. She started making calls. Thinking. Planning. And pretty soon, she said, “Okay. He’s coming home with me. Just… temporarily.” Sure, “temporary.” But I knew better. That evening, we got back in the car one more time. Destination? The big city with all the bridges and parks—Prague.
And now?
Here I am. A slightly lopsided dog with a very full heart. And Lucka? She’s mine. I don’t know who rescued who, really…
But I know this: We belong together.