They said nobody would love a stray dog. I overheard them talking, their voices cold and dismissive, as if I were nothing more than a shadow of the streets. They don’t know what it’s like, being left behind, abandoned, with nothing but the sound of distant footsteps and the empty road ahead. I don’t even remember what it felt like to have a home—was it warm? Did it smell like the comfort of safety? Or was it simply a place where I belonged?
I’ve wandered the streets for so long that I sometimes forget what it feels like to have a kind touch or a gentle voice calling my name. Every corner I turn, I see people walking by, oblivious to me, their eyes avoiding mine as if they’re afraid I’ll ask for something—something I don’t even have the courage to ask for. I see families laughing together, children playing with their dogs, and I wonder, will I ever have that? Will I ever know the love that these dogs are lucky enough to receive?
I’m not like them, I suppose. My coat is dirty, matted with months of dust and rain. My ribs are visible, a constant reminder of the hunger I’ve learned to ignore. My paws are sore from walking for miles, looking for a place to rest, hoping for someone to look my way. But they said nobody would love a stray dog. I can’t help but wonder, is that true? Does my past, my rough life on the streets, mean that I’m destined to be alone forever? Will I always be seen as just another stray, too broken and too far gone for anyone to care?
But then, I think about the moments when someone stops, just for a second, to look at me. The kind eyes that hesitate, the soft smile that doesn’t last long enough. Could they see something in me? Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope. Maybe, one day, someone will see beyond my rough exterior and realize that I, too, have a heart full of love to give. I want to believe that there is a place for me, a family waiting to take me in and show me what it feels like to belong again.
I don’t know if I’ll ever find a home. The road ahead seems uncertain, and the world feels so big and unkind at times. But there’s a part of me that still holds on to hope. I may be a stray dog, but I’m still a dog with feelings, with dreams, and with a desire to love and be loved. Maybe one day, I’ll find that person who sees me for who I really am—a companion, a friend, and someone who just needs a chance. Until then, I’ll keep walking, I’ll keep hoping, and I’ll keep believing that love can be found, even in the most unlikely places.
