Once upon a time there was a dog named Leo. He was neither small nor big, neither black nor white: he was a bit of everything, as if someone had put together all the best bits of dogs and mixed them with a smile.
Leo lived in a quiet house, with a little girl named Emma, a carpet as soft as a crushed cloud, and a window as big as a promise. But there was one thing no one understood: a little door at the end of the hall, low and round, like in fairy tales. No one had ever opened it. No one, except Leo.
Because that little door could only be opened one way: by wagging your tail.
A key, a push or an “abracadabra” were not enough. You had to get there with your heart beating fast and your tail in celebration. When Leo was happy – really happy, with his tongue hanging out and his eyes full of wind – the little door would click , slowly open… and behind it was the most beautiful world a dog could imagine.
A meadow that smelled good. A puddle that didn't make a mess. Sticks that ran by themselves. And hundreds of tails that danced in all directions.
Every time Leo walked through that door, he came back with something more: an idea, a smell, a memory to share with Emma. Once he brought her a leaf that made you laugh when you smelled it. Another time a stone that looked like a bone but that sang in the sun. No one believed it, except Emma. Because she, too, sometimes, followed him into that dream.
But there was a rule: the little door opened only if Leo was truly happy. And on gray days, when humans' feet were too fast and their hands were too busy, the door remained closed. Then Leo sat in front and waited. A caress was enough. A "good boy" was enough. Emma looked at him and said: "Are you coming with me to get bread today?"
And bang! The tail would start dancing, and the door would open again.
Maybe not everyone has a door in the hallway, but every dog has a special place that opens only with joy. And every human, if he pays attention, can learn to wag his tail with his heart.