I don’t know why they left me. I don’t know what I did wrong.
One moment, I was happily wagging my tail, my heart filled with love for the family I thought would always be mine. The next moment, I was alone—standing by the side of a road, watching the car that carried my whole world disappear into the distance. I ran after them at first, my paws pounding against the pavement, my breath coming in desperate gasps. But the car never stopped. My legs grew weak. My hope faded. And then, for the first time in my life, I felt what it truly meant to be abandoned.
The days that followed were cold and unforgiving. I didn’t know where to go, didn’t know where I belonged. I wandered the streets, searching every face, every moving car, hoping—just hoping—that my family had made a mistake and would come back for me. But no one did.
I tried to be brave, but hunger gnawed at my stomach, and thirst burned my throat. I searched through trash bins for scraps of food, but there was never enough. I approached strangers with pleading eyes, but most looked away, pretending not to see me. Others shooed me away, throwing harsh words and sometimes even stones.
Nights were the hardest. The cold wind cut through my fur as I curled up in alleyways, hoping for warmth that never came. I missed the soft bed I once had, the gentle hands that used to scratch behind my ears, the warm voice that used to call my name. Now, all I had was silence.
As days turned into weeks, my body grew weak. My ribs began to show through my thin fur. My paws ached from walking endlessly, searching for something—anything—to fill the emptiness inside me.
Then one evening, as the rain poured down from the dark sky, I found a small spot beneath an old bridge. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter. As I lay there, shivering, I thought about all the dogs who still had homes, who were sleeping in warm beds, their stomachs full, their tails wagging with joy. I wondered if my family ever thought about me. Did they miss me? Did they even remember me?
I don’t know how long I would have lasted in that cruel world, but fate finally took pity on me. A woman with kind eyes found me, soaking wet and trembling. She didn’t look away. She didn’t pretend not to see me. Instead, she knelt down, whispering soft words I couldn’t understand, but somehow, I knew they meant you’re safe now.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt warmth—not just from her hands as she wrapped me in a blanket, but from something deeper. Something I had lost faith in.
Love.
I don’t know what my future holds. I don’t know if I will ever forget the pain of being abandoned. But for now, I am no longer alone. And for the first time in a long time… I feel hope.
