Today is my special day, yet as a neglected, ugly dog, no one has wished me well; I’m still waiting for some joy
Today is supposed to be a special day—a day that, in another life, might have been filled with joy, warmth, and love. But for me, it’s just another reminder of how far I’ve fallen. You see, I’m no longer the dog I once was. Time, neglect, and hunger have taken their toll. My fur, once soft and golden, is now matted and dirty. My eyes, once full of sparkle, have dulled with sorrow. I’ve become an ugly, neglected dog that people look past, as if I’m nothing more than a shadow in their busy world.Today is my birthday, but no one has wished me well.I remember a time when things were different. A time when my presence was welcomed, even celebrated. Back then, my humans would smile when I trotted into the room, my tail wagging furiously in excitement. I was loved, I was wanted, and I was happy. I would run through the house, leaping with joy, barking in delight as my family laughed along with me. There was always someone to pet me, to play with me, to remind me that I belonged.
But now, things have changed. I don’t know exactly when or why it happened, but the love I once knew seems to have disappeared. Maybe my humans got busy, maybe they lost interest in me, or maybe they just couldn’t take care of me anymore. Whatever the reason, I’ve been left behind. Now, I spend my days wandering the streets, hoping for a kind glance or a scrap of food. Most people don’t even see me anymore. I’ve become invisible.As I sit here in the alleyway, curled up against the cold, I can’t help but feel the weight of my loneliness. Today, more than any other day, I feel it deeply. It’s my birthday—a day that used to be special. A day when I might have been given extra treats, maybe a new toy, and, most of all, a little extra love. But not today. Today, I am just a forgotten dog, left to face the world on my own.The hunger gnaws at my belly, a constant reminder of how much has changed. There was a time when my bowl was always full, and I never had to worry about where my next meal would come from. But those days are long gone. Now, every day is a battle to find food, to survive. I search through trash cans, hoping to find something edible, but it’s never enough. The hunger never goes away.
Yet, despite everything, I still wait. I wait for someone to notice me, to stop and see the dog I once was beneath the dirt and the matted fur. I wait for someone to offer me a kind word, a gentle pat on the head, or even just a smile. I wait for the joy that I’ve been missing for so long. It seems foolish, I know, to hope for something that may never come, but it’s all I have left.I watch as people pass by, their faces full of life, their hands carrying bags filled with food, gifts, and other treasures. They don’t see me. They don’t hear the soft whimper that escapes my throat, a sound of longing, of desperation. I wonder if they even realize that I exist. To them, I’m just another stray dog, another unwanted creature in a world that has no time for the weak and the forgotten.But even though they don’t see me, I see them. I watch as children laugh and play, their joy infectious, and I remember what it felt like to be part of that world. I used to be someone’s best friend. I used to chase balls, run through the park, and feel the wind on my face as I ran free. But those days are gone, and now I’m left with nothing but memories.
The sky above me darkens as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the street. The day is almost over, and still, no one has wished me well. No one has stopped to ask how I’m doing, to see if I’m okay. The cold seeps into my bones, and I curl up tighter, trying to keep warm. My body is weak, my spirit even weaker. But somehow, despite everything, I continue to hold onto hope.Hope is a strange thing. It’s fragile, easily broken, and yet, it’s also incredibly powerful. Even in my darkest moments, when the world feels like it’s forgotten me completely, hope keeps me going. It’s the small voice inside that whispers, “Maybe tomorrow will be better.” It’s the belief that somewhere, somehow, there’s still a chance for joy.As I lie here, shivering in the cold, I try to hold onto that hope. I try to remind myself that I am still a dog, still capable of love, still deserving of kindness. I may be neglected, I may be ugly, but I am still here. I still have a heart that beats, a tail that wags, and a soul that longs for connection. I still have something to offer, even if the world doesn’t see it.
In the quiet of the night, I close my eyes and dream of a better day. I dream of a day when someone will finally notice me, will see the dog beneath the dirt and the sadness, and will offer me the love I’ve been waiting for. I dream of a warm home, a soft bed, and the feeling of safety that I’ve been missing for so long. I dream of joy.Because even though today wasn’t what I had hoped for, even though no one wished me well on my special day, I still believe that joy is out there, waiting for me. I may have to wait a little longer, I may have to endure more days of hunger and loneliness, but I know that someday, it will come.And when it does, I will be ready. I will wag my tail, I will bark with excitement, and I will run toward the joy that I’ve been waiting for. Because even though I am a neglected, ugly dog, I still believe that I deserve happiness. I still believe that there is love out there for me. And until that day comes, I will keep waiting.
