The box was small—too small for a mother and her pups—but it was all we had. Inside, the air was damp, and the cardboard walls didn’t offer much warmth against the biting cold that crept in as the night grew darker. My little ones were nestled close to me, their tiny bodies pressed against mine for comfort and warmth. I could hear their soft, hungry whimpers, and I felt a pang in my heart.
I was trying to keep them safe. I had to. As a mother, that was my only job—to protect them, to love them, and to give them the best chance at a better life than the one we were stuck in.
The world outside this cardboard box was harsh. We were unwanted, invisible to most, left to fend for ourselves in a place where kindness was a rare thing. I had no home, no family to care for us. It was just me and my babies, clinging to each other in the darkness, trying to survive each day.
I watched them—my little ones—tucked in close beside me. Their fur was soft, and their tiny faces, still so innocent, were full of hope. I couldn’t bear the thought of them growing up in a world like this. They deserved better.
I curled around them protectively, my body shielding theirs from the cold wind that seemed to slip through every crack in our shelter. My heart ached for them. I knew what it was like to go without—a cold, empty stomach and no warm bed to rest on. I had experienced it all before, but I could never bear to see them suffer the same way.
I looked down at my puppies, their eyes still closed, trusting me to keep them safe. I whispered softly to them, hoping they could somehow understand my thoughts. “I want to have a forever home so that my children don’t have to suffer like this,” I murmured. “I want them to grow up in a place where there’s warmth, where they are loved, where they don’t have to go hungry or fight for every scrap of food. I want them to know what it feels like to be cared for, to have a family that will protect them, just like I would.”
But for now, it was just me, alone with them in this empty, forgotten box. I wished so desperately for a place where we could be safe—where we could be wanted. I wanted to feel the comfort of a soft bed, to watch my puppies play freely, without fear. I dreamed of a home where someone would open the door and welcome us in, offering the love and warmth we so desperately needed.
The night stretched on, and my pups slowly drifted into sleep, their tiny breaths rising and falling against my side. As I lay there with them, I couldn’t help but wonder—would that dream ever come true? Would someone see us? Would someone care enough to give us a chance?
I didn’t know. All I had was hope, a fragile, flickering hope that things could one day be different for us. That maybe, just maybe, we could find our forever home.
Until then, I would continue to protect my little ones, keeping them close to me, fighting for them every day. I may not have much, but I have my love, and as long as I’m here, I’ll do everything I can to give them the life they deserve.
