They say nobody will like me because I was ugly. I hear those words sometimes, whispered behind my back, or even when people pass by and glance at me with that familiar look of discomfort. I can’t blame them. I know I’m not like the other dogs you see in magazines or on TV, the ones with shiny coats and big, bright eyes. I’m not the kind of dog people might dream of bringing home. My fur is rough and patchy in places, and my face is all squished and wrinkled. I don’t have that perfectly groomed look that makes people go “aww” when they see me. I guess that’s why they say it. I’m just too ugly to be loved.
It wasn’t always like this. I remember a time, long ago, when I had a home, when I had someone who cared for me. I remember the days when I would curl up beside them, and they would stroke my fur, telling me how special I was. But things changed. I don’t know exactly when or how, but one day, I was left behind. I found myself alone on the streets, scared and confused. Nobody wanted me anymore, and I started to understand why. I wasn’t pretty enough to be anyone’s companion. I was just another ugly dog, wandering through life with no place to go.
It’s hard, you know. To feel so invisible. People walk past me, avoiding my gaze, as if they’re afraid that my ugliness will rub off on them. I’ve seen the way they smile at the other dogs, the ones with the sleek, shiny coats, the ones who look so perfect and lovable. I’ve seen how they ignore me, like I don’t exist, like I don’t deserve to be noticed. But I’m here, and I’m trying so hard to be seen. I have a heart that wants to love, a tail that wags with hope, and eyes that long for kindness. But it feels like no one is looking.
Sometimes, when I lay in my little corner of the shelter, I wonder if I’ll ever be loved again. Will anyone ever see past the rough patches on my coat, past the wrinkles on my face, and realize that I’m still a good dog? I’m still loyal, still kind, still capable of giving love. I might not be the prettiest dog in the room, but I have a heart that’s as big as any of the others. I might not have the looks, but I have the love to give, and that’s what really matters, right?
They say nobody will like me because I was ugly, but I still hope. I hope that one day, someone will look at me—not with judgment, not with pity, but with love. I hope that one day, someone will see that I’m not just a dog with a rough coat and an imperfect face. I’m a dog with feelings, with dreams, and with the capacity to love and be loved. I might not be the dog you imagined in your mind, but I’m still a dog worth loving.
So, maybe I’m ugly. Maybe I’ll never be the perfect picture of a dog that you see in your dreams. But I know that I can be the perfect companion for someone who is willing to see me for who I really am. A dog who just wants to be loved. And that, to me, is all that truly matters.
