My birthday is no different from any other day. The sun rises, casting its faint light through the cracks in the walls of the small alley where I live. I lift my head, my ears perked up, hoping for a glimpse of something, anything, that would make today feel special. But no one notices me. No one remembers.
I’ve been wandering these streets for what feels like forever. I used to have a home, a family who cared for me, but that was a long time ago. Now, I am alone, just a nameless dog in the world, my fur matted and my paws weary from the endless journey in search of something I can’t quite describe.
As I lie on the cold, hard pavement, I can’t help but feel the emptiness inside me. The world seems so indifferent, and the cold air bites at my skin, making my bones ache. I curl up tighter, trying to find warmth in the only way I know how—by wrapping myself in the little comfort I can provide. But even that doesn’t help. The coldness surrounds me, both physically and emotionally.
Today is supposed to be my day, but there’s no one to share it with. There’s no cake, no gifts, no belly rubs from the ones who once loved me. No warm arms to hold me close and tell me everything will be okay. It’s just me, alone in this big, confusing world. I don’t even remember the last time I had someone to celebrate with.
I look up at the sky, hoping for a sign that things will change. Maybe today, I’ll be lucky. Maybe someone will see me, really see me, and realize that I am deserving of love, too. But as the hours pass, my hopes begin to fade. People walk by, their footsteps echoing in the distance, but none stop. None look down at me with kindness.
The memories of better days haunt me. I remember the sound of my old owner’s voice, calling me with that tone of affection I haven’t heard in so long. I remember the warm days spent running through the grass, chasing sticks, and feeling truly happy. But those days are gone now, replaced by an unfeeling, cold world that has no place for a dog like me.
I try to keep my tail from wagging, but it slips out every once in a while, a faint reminder of the joy I once knew. Even though I don’t know where my journey will lead me, I can’t help but hope—hope for a better future, hope that there’s someone out there who will look at me with love in their eyes.
But for now, I am here, lying in the cold, forgotten. My birthday passes quietly, unnoticed, as I lie in the shadows, still longing for a chance to be loved again.
