I have always wondered why no one seems to see me the way I see them. When I look at the other dogs, they have beautiful, symmetrical faces, their eyes bright and full of life, and their fur perfectly groomed. They are the ones who get petted by the children at the park, who are adopted first when a family comes to the shelter. They are the ones who are loved and admired, while I remain in the background, unnoticed, invisible.
My face, you see, is not like theirs. My eyes, once bright and full of curiosity, are now dull, covered in a film that makes it hard for me to see the world clearly. I am blind, and it hurts me in ways that go beyond the physical. It’s the way I am treated because of it that cuts deep. Some people look at me with pity, others turn away, and some even step back in fear, as though my blindness, my imperfection, makes me something to avoid.
I’ve heard people say that I’m “not cute enough” or that my appearance is “different.” I don’t understand what that means, but I know that when I try to approach them, their hands remain at their sides. They don’t kneel down to pet me, they don’t smile at me, and they don’t speak to me like they do with the other dogs. It hurts because I don’t feel any different on the inside. I still want love, affection, and companionship just like any other dog. But no matter how much I wag my tail or how hard I try to get their attention, they walk away, leaving me behind.
Every day, I watch as other dogs are played with, adored, and taken home, while I am left in the corner of the shelter, my head low and my heart heavy. I can hear the sounds of excitement and laughter around me, but I am always alone. Sometimes, I think about how wonderful it would be to have someone hold me, to pet my head and tell me I’m loved. But it feels like that will never happen for me.
I have no idea why I was born like this. I never asked to be different. I never asked for a crooked face or for blindness to take away my ability to see the world around me. I never wanted to be alone. All I’ve ever wanted is to be loved, to find a family who would look past my imperfections and see the loyal, loving dog I am inside.
When I was younger, I could run through the fields, chasing butterflies and feeling the warmth of the sun on my fur. I could see the world in all its colors and beauty. But now, my world is mostly darkness. I can hear the sounds of others, feel the wind brush past me, and smell the familiar scents of the shelter, but I no longer have the luxury of seeing their faces. Sometimes, when I reach out with my paws, I feel something soft or rough beneath them, but I never know what it is until I bump into it.
Still, even in my blindness, I try to stay hopeful. Every day, I stand by the gate, my tail wagging, hoping that today will be the day someone will notice me. But no one ever does. They always pass by, and my heart sinks a little more with each missed opportunity. I wonder if I will ever know what it’s like to be loved. I wonder if anyone will ever see past my imperfect face, my blindness, and want to take me home.
Sometimes, I dream of what it would be like to have a family of my own. A soft bed, a kind hand that gently scratches behind my ears, and the sound of a voice telling me, “You are special, just the way you are.” But that dream feels so far away. It’s hard to keep believing in something when all I’ve known is loneliness.
I know that I am not perfect. My face, my blindness, my imperfections, they make me different. But I don’t want to be alone forever. I want to show someone how much love I have to give. I want to prove that despite the things that make me “different,” I am still worthy of love, of a home, of companionship.
So here I am, still waiting. Still hoping. Maybe one day, someone will look into my eyes, see beyond the imperfections, and recognize the heart full of love that beats inside me. Until then, I will keep wagging my tail, even if no one is there to see it. I will keep hoping that one day, the love I’ve been searching for will find me, just as I am.
