Today was supposed to be special. I could feel it—somehow, I knew it was my birthday. But as the day began, I noticed that things seemed the same as any other day. I spent the morning watching out the window, hoping someone would surprise me, even if just with a kind pat or a cheerful greeting. My tail wagged at the thought, but as the hours passed and nobody came, that hope faded bit by bit.
No one seemed to remember. I thought maybe my humans just needed a little reminder, so I brought my favorite toy over, nudging it at their feet and looking up with my biggest, roundest eyes. But they were busy. “Not now,” they said, glancing down for just a second before turning away again. I slunk back to my spot, curling up with my toy, feeling a little hurt. I didn’t understand—did they not love me anymore? Had I done something wrong?
By afternoon, the house was quiet. I lay there in silence, replaying all the happy times we’d had together, wondering if those moments were real or if I’d just imagined them. I remembered when they first brought me home and how everyone cuddled me, laughed at my puppy antics, and showered me with affection. Those were the days when I felt like I truly belonged, like I was part of a family that adored me. I thought maybe, just maybe, my birthday would be a chance for us to reconnect, to feel that same warmth again.
The evening came, and still, there were no surprises, no treats, not even a single “Happy Birthday.” I tried to hold back the sadness, but a whimper escaped me, and I wondered: “Does everyone hate me?” It’s silly, I know, but a part of me couldn’t help but feel like I was invisible. I just wanted to be seen, to be remembered.
As I lay there, lost in my thoughts, I felt a gentle hand on my head. My human had finally come over and was petting me, a soft smile on their face. They didn’t say anything, but in that moment, it felt like maybe they did remember, even if just a little. My tail started to wag again, slowly at first, and then faster. It wasn’t much, but it meant the world to me.
