**Love and Tears: Hiven’s 8th Birthday**
Today is my 8th birthday. My name is Hiven, and I’ve spent seven of those years in this rescue shelter. It’s a place I know so well—every corner, every sound, every scent. But no matter how familiar it is, it’s never felt like home. Home is something I’ve only dreamed of, something that’s always seemed just out of reach.
The shelter is quiet today. The other dogs are resting, some dreaming of their own special days, while others have already given up hope. But I can’t let go of the hope that’s kept me going all these years. I still believe that there’s someone out there for me, someone who will see me and choose me, even though I’m not a puppy anymore. I’m older now, with a little more gray in my fur and a few more aches in my bones, but my heart is still full of love, waiting to be given.
Today, the volunteers gave me an extra treat—a small gesture to acknowledge my special day. They patted my head, told me I was a good dog, and smiled at me with kindness in their eyes. I tried to wag my tail, to show them I appreciated it, but deep down, I couldn’t shake the sadness that lingered in my heart. Because as much as I love the people here, I know that this isn’t where I’m meant to be.
As the day wore on, I found myself thinking about the years that have passed. I remember the excitement I used to feel when people would walk through the door, my tail wagging furiously, my heart full of hope that today would be the day I’d be chosen. But with each passing year, that hope has grown quieter, though it never fully fades. I still dream of a family, of a place where I can rest my head and feel safe and loved.
As the sun began to set, I curled up in my kennel, tears welling up in my eyes. It’s hard not to feel the weight of those years, the loneliness that has followed me through each birthday spent here. But even through the tears, there’s a glimmer of something else—love.
Love for the life I’ve lived, even though it’s been hard. Love for the volunteers who have cared for me, who have shown me kindness when I had nothing else. Love for the dream that still flickers in my heart, the dream of a home, of a family, of a place where I can belong.
As I drift off to sleep, I make a silent wish. I wish for someone to see me, not as just another dog in a shelter, but as Hiven—a dog who has waited so long for love, who still believes in the possibility of a happy ending. I wish for a day when the tears I cry are tears of joy, when I can leave this place behind and walk into the arms of someone who will love me for the rest of my days.
Happy 8th birthday to me, Hiven. I’m still waiting, still hoping, still believing in love, even through the tears.
