My name is Bruno. That’s what the kind shelter worker called me when I was brought here months ago. She said I looked strong and brave, but deep down, I’ve always felt like I didn’t belong. Today is my birthday, and instead of waking up to joy and love, I find myself staring at the walls of this kennel, wondering if anyone will ever see past the way I look.
I wasn’t always in this shelter. I once lived on the streets, a stray with no home and no name. Life out there was harsh. I scavenged for scraps, dodged cars, and avoided humans who would shoo me away or throw things at me. One day, I got into a fight with another dog over a piece of bread. That’s how I got the scar on my face—the one that makes people look away when they see me.
When the shelter found me, I was cold, hungry, and tired of fighting. The workers here have been kind. They gave me food, cleaned my wounds, and even gave me a name. But I’ve noticed how people look at me when they visit. They smile at the puppies with soft fur and bright eyes. They laugh at the playful dogs who wag their tails eagerly. But when they get to my kennel, their smiles fade. Some don’t even stop.
I hear them whisper things like, “Poor thing,” or “He looks scary.” It hurts, even though I try to pretend it doesn’t. I’ve learned that being different means being overlooked, no matter how much love you have to give.
Today, I had hoped it would be different. It’s my birthday, and I dared to dream that someone would come just for me. I imagined a kind hand reaching out to pet my head, a voice saying, “You’re perfect just the way you are.” I even thought maybe they’d bring a little treat or a toy.
But as the hours passed, I watched family after family walk by. Some stopped at other kennels, smiling and pointing. A few adopted the lucky ones. But no one looked at me. Not once.
As the sun began to set, I curled up in the corner of my kennel, my heart heavy with sadness. I don’t know what makes me so unworthy. Is it my scar? My rough coat? The way I limp when I walk? I may not be beautiful on the outside, but inside, my heart is full of love waiting to be shared.
The kind shelter worker came by in the evening. She knelt by my kennel and slid a small biscuit through the bars. “Happy Birthday, Bruno,” she said softly, her voice filled with kindness. “I hope someone sees how special you are soon.”
Her words warmed me, but they also brought tears to my eyes. I wondered why no one could see me the way she did. I don’t need much—just someone to call my own, someone who will look past my flaws and see the loyal friend I am inside.
So here I am, spending my birthday alone, with only my dreams to keep me company. Maybe next year will be different. Maybe someone will come for me. Until then, I’ll keep hoping. Because even though no one has blessed me today, I know in my heart that I’m worth loving.
For now, I’ll wait. And if you ever find yourself looking for a friend who will love you unconditionally, look past the scars and the rough edges. You might just find someone like me, ready to give you a lifetime of loyalty and joy.
