I am an old dog. My fur, once golden and soft, is now patchy and gray. My eyes are cloudy, and I limp when I walk. My ears no longer hear the laughter of children clearly, and my tail no longer wags as easily as it used to. I lie here, in the cold corner of this shelter, and watch as people walk by me every day… but they never stop.
They used to, once. When I was young and cute, people would smile when they saw me. They’d pet me, play with me, laugh with me. Back then, I had a family. I remember the little boy who used to wrap his arms around me and whisper secrets into my ears. I remember warm beds, belly rubs, and soft words like, “Good boy.”
But then I got older.
I don’t know when it happened exactly. One day, my legs started hurting more. I slept longer. I didn’t run as fast. I wasn’t fun anymore. Then, one cold morning, they took me for a ride. I thought it was going to be a walk in the park… but instead, they left me here. In a place full of barking and steel cages. They didn’t say goodbye. They didn’t look back.
Since that day, I’ve waited. Every time someone walks in, I sit up. I try to look hopeful. I wag my tail even though it hurts. But they always go to the puppies, the younger ones, the prettier ones. They never choose me. I hear the volunteers whisper, “He’s too old… he’s not cute… no one will adopt him.”
And so, I remain.
Sometimes I dream of my old home. I see that little boy, now probably grown up. I wonder if he remembers me. I wonder if he misses me at all. Sometimes, I hope he’ll walk through that door and take me back. But he never comes.
I am an old dog, and no one loves me.
But even now, I still hope. I still believe that love doesn’t care about wrinkles or limps or scars. I still believe there’s someone out there who might look into my tired eyes and see the heart that still beats with loyalty, with kindness, with all the love I’ve been saving.
Maybe tomorrow, someone will choose me.
But if not… then at least, I want the world to know:
I may be old. I may not be cute anymore.
But I remember how to love. And I still do.
