On a quiet stretch of countryside in England, staff at WildSide Exotic Rescue thought they were doing everything right for George, a rescued capybara with a complicated past. They built him grassy enclosures. They gave him pools to swim in. They introduced him to other capybaras, hoping instinct and biology would do the rest.

George had other plans.

From the moment he arrived at the sanctuary in 2023, it was clear he wasn’t settling in the way everyone expected. Placed with a group of five capybaras, George seemed uncomfortable. The others were vocal and territorial, and instead of bonding, the encounters turned tense. Even when caretakers reduced the group to just one companion, George remained unhappy.

So the team tried again—this time designing a space just for him, complete with a brand-new swimming pool. But while construction was underway, George kept performing a feat no one saw coming: he leapt over five-foot gates and made a beeline back to the barn.

Capybaras aren’t known for fence jumping. They’re also not native to England. George’s unusual behavior traced back to his early life, when he was kept as an exotic pet in a home with dogs. When authorities later required his owner to install proper facilities, including a pool, the owner couldn’t comply. That’s when George came to WildSide.

His upbringing left a lasting imprint. George behaves less like the world’s largest rodent and more like an overgrown, laid-back dog. He enjoys sunbathing on his back, seeks out belly rubs, and happily displaces dogs from sofas if he decides the spot belongs to him.

After a year—and seven successful escape attempts—the staff stopped trying to redirect him. Instead, they listened.

At WildSide, animal choice is a guiding principle. George had made his preferences unmistakably clear. He chose the warmth of the barn, the company of people, and above all, the presence of dogs.

These days, his routine is entirely his own. Mornings might begin with a visit to the meerkats, who occasionally indulge him with a back massage. If they’re not interested, the raccoons often are. By afternoon, George can usually be found stretched out beside his closest companion, a gentle rescue dog named Milo.

The two move through the sanctuary together, napping on sofas, wandering the yard, or simply sitting side by side. Milo provides a familiar rhythm and calm that seems to ground George, fulfilling the social needs he never quite learned to meet with his own species.

George isn’t without mischief. He has a habit of rearing up on his back legs to investigate food preparation areas, hoping to snag a snack. Staff take it in stride. He’s well cared for, with a diet of guinea pig pellets fortified with vitamin C, along with peppers, broccoli, sweetcorn, and potatoes.

Despite the affection surrounding him, there’s a quiet sadness beneath George’s story. His caretakers wish his life had unfolded differently—one where he could roam with a herd of capybaras, grazing freely in his native habitat. Years of early domestication made that future impossible.

What they can offer instead is safety, autonomy, and companionship. George sleeps securely at night, enjoys private pool time in the afternoons, and spends his days exactly where he wants to be.

For George, that’s enough.

Read more at thedodo.com