The rain poured relentlessly from the darkened sky, drenching everything in its path. I huddled under the narrow overhang of an old building, trying to shield my little one from the cold drops that soaked our fur. My body shivered from the chill, but my heart ached more from the hopelessness of our situation.
Once, I had a place to call home, a yard to roam, and hands that would pat my head with love. But that life feels like a distant dream now. When my belly began to swell with life, those same hands that once cared for me grew cold and distant. One day, they led me to the outskirts of the town, opened the car door, and left me behind. I waited for hours, then days, hoping they would return. But they never did.
Now, my little one is all I have. He doesn’t understand why the world is so cruel, why his paws hurt from walking on sharp gravel, or why we have to scavenge through trash just to find a scrap of food. I wish I could explain it to him, but even I don’t have the answers.
The rain is merciless tonight. My pup’s small body trembles as he nestles closer to me, his tiny whimpers cutting through the sound of the downpour. “Mama, why are we always wet?” he asks softly. I have no words to comfort him. I can only lick his damp fur and hope it conveys the love and strength I want him to feel.
As the night deepens, the streets grow quieter, but the rain shows no sign of stopping. I look out into the distance, my eyes scanning for anything—a kind soul, a dry place, a flicker of hope. But all I see are shadows and puddles reflecting the emptiness of our world.
I remember a time when my biggest worry was finding a sunny spot to nap. Now, every day is a battle for survival. The weight of responsibility is crushing, but I cannot falter. My pup depends on me. His innocent eyes look to me for guidance, for protection, for answers to questions I cannot bear to confront.
Suddenly, a car passes by, splashing water onto the sidewalk. The driver doesn’t see us—or maybe they choose not to. My pup yelps in surprise, and I pull him closer, wrapping my body around his. “It’s okay,” I whisper, though I’m not sure who I’m trying to reassure—him or myself.
The night feels endless. My pup falls asleep in my arms, his small breaths steadying despite the cold. I stay awake, keeping watch, my ears attuned to every sound. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I know I must keep going for his sake.
As the rain continues to fall, I make a silent plea to the heavens: for a warm place to rest, for food to fill his little belly, for kindness in a world that has shown us so little. But above all, I pray for him to grow strong and brave, to find a life far better than the one I can give him.
Under the relentless rain, with no home and no certainty, I hold on to one thing: my love for my pup. It’s all I have, but I hope it’s enough to keep us going through this storm—and every storm to
come.