Today is my birthday, a day I’ve been looking forward to with hope in my little heart. I woke up extra early, my tail wagging with excitement. I sniffed around, hoping to catch a hint of something special in the air. Birthdays are supposed to be a time of love, aren’t they? I’ve seen other dogs get celebrated, with treats, pats, and laughter. Today, I wished for a little bit of that for myself.
The morning passed, and I sat by the door, looking at each person who walked by, hoping they would stop and say, “Happy Birthday!” to me. I imagined someone bending down to scratch behind my ears, whispering kind words just for me. I’m not the youngest or the fluffiest pup, and I know I might not be the first dog people would think of, but it didn’t stop my heart from hoping.
I curled up by the window as the afternoon sun cast warm rays on my coat. I imagined my birthday wish again: not just treats or toys, but simple good wishes, a smile, a gentle pat on the head, a reminder that I am noticed and loved. I watched the world outside, feeling like my heart was carrying a little candle, still waiting for it to be noticed and shared.
As evening drew close, I heard the sound of footsteps at the door. I looked up, and my owner walked over with a smile and, in her hands, a small piece of my favorite treat. She crouched down beside me, ruffling my fur, and in her soft voice, she said, “Happy Birthday.” My heart felt so full, I thought it might burst. One birthday wish, just for me, and that simple wish came true.
Maybe I didn’t have a grand party or many people around, but in that moment, I felt like the happiest dog. This was all I needed. It wasn’t the treats or even the toys; it was the feeling of being seen and loved, if only for a moment, on my special day.
