All the meaning that the expression "genlte giant" can have is personified in what Alkis is and his 40+ kilos. His entire being is summed up in these two words. He is a giant. And he is gentle.
He is so good that he was attacked by a pack of dogs and left bleeding on the street, looking dead. Him. The one who could put down a bear. It's not that Alkis doesn't have the strength, it's that he doesn't care about that.
She has a soul that can fit in the arms of a small child, even though she is trapped in a huge body. His soul can be seen in his gaze, which has a childishness and a sadness, and in his faint smile formed at the edges of his lips.
He has now recovered from his injuries, and he is with us. He goes out into the courtyard, and it's as if he has no purpose, unless there is a human there. You take a step, he does one too. If you walk, he walks. If you stay steady, he stays too, and that huge head of his rests on you, and seems willing to stay there as long as you keep petting.
If he happens to be half a meter away, you call him and he comes slowly, taking five minutes to complete one step, and you almost hear the plaf plaf that his feet make on the ground. He comes like a good boy, as he does it all like a good boy. It's as if he's trying to overemphasize how good and good-natured and good-hearterd he is, and to overshadow what you see with your eyes when you look at him, and the prejudices you have about dogs like him.
He is looking for a home and will be given as a family member, to live in a home with people he adores.
