Leke is three years old and 77 pounds of glossy black magnificence, like he was sculpted out of midnight and then given eyes that see straight through you. At first, in the kennel, he can seem very still — head a little lowered, muscles tight, bracing for a world that hasn’t always made sense. He’s trying very hard to get it right. But leash him and step into the open air, and you’ll feel the shift. He softens. He walks better. He begins to look at you instead of past you. He takes treats gently. He knows sit and paw. He loves to sniff and explore, and if you resist the urge to rush him, this big, shadow-soft dog will roll onto his back and offer you his entire velvety belly. Once Leke trusts you, he is playful, affectionate, and startlingly tender for a dog of his size. His is the kind of love that unfolds slowly — and once it does, it’s wholehearted and forever.