Today is my birthday, and yet, it feels just like any other day. The sun is warm on my fur, but I can’t see it. The breeze is gentle against my face, but I can’t watch it rustle the leaves. The world around me is dark, and it has been for as long as I can remember. I was born blind, so I don’t know what it’s like to see the sky, to look into the eyes of the ones I love. I can’t even see the people who walk by me every day, their footsteps echoing in my ears but never stopping for me.
I’ve been in this shelter for what feels like forever. I’m surrounded by other dogs, each one wagging their tails, eager for attention, eager to go home. But me? I’ve always been different. I’ve never had the joy of playing in the yard, chasing after toys, or running free in a field. I am a dog who cannot see, and sometimes it feels like that’s all anyone sees when they look at me.
Today is my birthday, but no one seems to notice. The other dogs are getting treats, playing with visitors, and being loved on by kind hands. I hear the laughter and the joy around me, but I’m left in my little corner, hoping someone will come over to me. Maybe today, just for once, I will get a special treat, a moment of attention. Maybe today someone will remember that it’s my birthday, too.
But it feels like no one cares. No one stops to notice the dog sitting quietly in the corner, the one who doesn’t wag his tail because he can’t see the excitement of a new friend. No one notices the dog who listens more than he barks, who feels the vibrations of footsteps, who relies on his nose to find his way. I am the dog that others forget.
It’s hard being a dog who can’t see. It’s hard to live in a world where everything is blurry, where the people I want to love are just voices to me, where the things I want to experience are just dreams I can never touch. But I still try. I still get up each day, I still find a way to navigate this world, and I still hold onto hope.
As the day drifts on, I can feel the sadness creeping in. I wonder, “Could you take the time to send a greeting to a blind dog like me?” Just a simple gesture, just a small moment of kindness. I don’t need much. I don’t need a grand party or a fancy gift. All I long for is someone to remember that I’m here, someone to say “Happy Birthday” to me.
I know I’m not the cutest dog, not the most playful, not the one who will jump up to greet you with excitement. But I have a heart that still loves, a heart that longs to be cherished. And today, I just want to feel that love, even if it’s just for a moment. I want to feel like I matter, like I’m not invisible in this world that I cannot see.
I imagine a kind person coming over to me, kneeling down to my level, speaking softly to me. Maybe they’ll give me a gentle pat on the head, or better yet, a scratch behind my ears—something to let me know that someone cares. It doesn’t take much to make me happy. A few words, a small gesture, and I’ll know that I’m not alone. I’ll know that, even in my blindness, I am loved.
So, here I am, sitting quietly in my corner, waiting. I know that some of the other dogs are getting attention, but all I want is someone to remember me today. To send a greeting to a blind dog like me. It’s not much to ask, is it?
Even though I can’t see the world, I can still feel it. I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my fur, the soft caress of a kind hand, and the love that fills the space between us. And that’s enough for me.
Today is my birthday. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be lucky enough to hear the words I’ve longed for: “Happy Birthday, little one. You are special. You are loved.”
