It’s my birthday today, but it feels like just another day on the streets. The cold wind bites at my fur, and the noise of the city never seems to quiet down. People walk by, too busy to notice me sitting here in the corner, hoping someone will look my way. I don’t have much to look forward to, but maybe today will be different. Maybe someone will see me, maybe someone will smile, maybe someone will give me the love and warmth I’ve been craving all my life.
I’ve lived on these streets for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what it’s like to have a home, or to be loved by someone who calls me their own. I’ve seen families walking by, holding hands, with a dog by their side, wagging its tail, happy to be a part of their lives. I wonder what that’s like. What does it feel like to be loved unconditionally? To have a place to call your own?
On days like today, I dream of that love. I dream of a warm bed, a soft blanket, and a hand gently petting me, telling me everything will be okay. But today, like every other day, I just sit here, waiting. My belly growls, my coat is matted and dirty, and my paws ache from walking on these hard, unforgiving streets. But I can’t help but hope. It’s my birthday, after all.
A few people pass by, but no one stops. Some glance at me, but their eyes quickly look away. I don’t blame them. I’m just another stray, another forgotten soul wandering the streets. But maybe, just maybe, today will be different. Maybe someone will take a moment to see me for who I really am—a dog with a heart full of love, waiting for the chance to give it to someone who needs it.
The sun starts to set, and the cold starts to seep deeper into my bones. I curl up on the sidewalk, trying to find warmth, but it’s not the same as the warmth I’ve always dreamed of. I close my eyes for a moment, wishing for a family, wishing for a home, wishing for love.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps. My ears perk up, and I open my eyes. A kind face appears in front of me, a face that looks down with a smile. I can’t believe it. Someone is stopping. Someone is looking at me, really looking at me. The person bends down, gently reaching out to touch my head. It feels soft, comforting, like the warmth I’ve been longing for. My tail starts to wag, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like I’m not invisible.
“Are you hungry?” the person asks softly. I can’t find words, but I nod. I would do anything for a meal right now, anything to fill my empty belly. The person pulls out some food from a bag and hands it to me, and I eat eagerly, feeling the warmth of kindness fill my heart.
“Happy birthday, little one,” they say, with a smile that makes my tail wag even harder. I feel a surge of hope, of joy, that I’ve never felt before. Maybe today is different. Maybe it’s the start of something new.
The person stays with me for a while, petting me gently, telling me I’m a good boy. My heart swells with happiness. For the first time, I feel seen, truly seen, for who I am. I’m not just a stray, I’m not just a forgotten dog. I’m worthy of love.
As the evening comes to a close, the person stands up, but not before giving me one last pat on the head. “We’ll be back,” they say, their voice filled with warmth. And for the first time in my life, I believe it. Maybe there’s a future for me after all.
I may not have a home yet, but today, on my birthday, I received something I never thought possible: love. And that’s more than I could ever ask for.
