Today is my birthday, but as an overlooked pup, I’m starving and have been without food for days
Today is my birthday. It should be a day filled with joy, with treats, and with love. But for me, it’s just another day—another day of being hungry, another day of being forgotten. As an overlooked pup, I’ve grown accustomed to being ignored by the world around me. My stomach has been empty for days, and I can’t remember the last time I had a real meal. I roam the streets, hoping for something, anything, to fill my belly, but all I find are scraps and discarded crumbs. On a day that should be special, I’m starving and alone.I wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time, I was a tiny, happy puppy full of life and energy. I had people who cared for me, who fed me, and who made sure I was warm and safe. I remember those days fondly—days when I would wake up to a bowl of food and a kind hand to pet me. Back then, I was the center of someone’s world. I had a family. I had a home. I didn’t know what it felt like to be hungry, and I certainly didn’t know what it felt like to be forgotten.
But things change. Life has a way of taking unexpected turns, and one day, everything was different. My family, the people who once loved me, began to drift away. It started small—maybe they forgot to feed me once or twice. Then, they stopped taking me for walks. Soon, they were too busy to play with me, and I found myself spending more and more time alone. Eventually, they left me behind altogether.I don’t know why they did it. Maybe they got tired of me. Maybe they couldn’t take care of me anymore. Or maybe they just didn’t want the responsibility of a dog as I grew older. Whatever the reason, they abandoned me, and I was left to fend for myself. I waited for them to come back, to realize that they had made a mistake, but they never did. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and I was still alone.The streets became my new home. I learned quickly that the world is a harsh place for a dog like me—small, forgotten, and starving. Food was hard to come by, and I often went days without eating. I would sniff around trash bins and alleyways, hoping to find something edible. Sometimes, I’d get lucky and find a few scraps of food. Other times, I’d go to bed with my stomach growling, too weak to continue searching.
As the hunger grew, so did the loneliness. People would walk past me, their eyes glazed over, not even noticing the small, dirty dog at their feet. I would wag my tail, hoping someone might stop and offer me a bite of food or a kind word, but they never did. I was invisible to them, just another stray on the streets. The world kept moving, but I was stuck—stuck in a cycle of hunger, loneliness, and neglect.Today, though, feels different. It’s my birthday, and for some reason, that makes the hunger and loneliness even harder to bear. I can’t help but think back to my first birthday, when my family celebrated with me. They gave me a special meal, and I even got a toy—a squeaky ball that I loved to chase around the house. I was happy then, surrounded by people who cared about me. I was full, I was loved, and I felt like I belonged.But now, on this birthday, I’m starving. My ribs are visible beneath my dirty fur, and my legs are weak from lack of nourishment. I’ve been without food for days, and I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. I try to be hopeful, to keep looking for food, but the hunger is overwhelming. It’s a constant ache that never goes away, a reminder that I’ve been forgotten by the very people who once promised to care for me.
As I wander through the streets, I see people eating—enjoying sandwiches, pastries, and other delicious things that make my mouth water. The smells are intoxicating, and I follow them, hoping someone might share a bite with me. But no one does. They don’t even look at me. I’m just a small, scruffy dog, not worth their attention. I keep walking, my head low, trying to ignore the gnawing emptiness in my stomach.The sun begins to set, and the streets grow quieter. I find a spot under a tree, curling up on the cold ground, hoping that sleep will take away the hunger, at least for a little while. But it’s hard to sleep when your stomach is growling, when your body is so weak that even lying down feels like an effort. I close my eyes, trying to imagine a world where things are different—a world where I’m not starving, where I’m not forgotten, where someone remembers that today is my birthday.In my dreams, I’m back in my old home. My family is there, and they’re smiling at me. There’s a big bowl of food in front of me, and I eat until I’m full. My belly is warm, and my heart is full of love. I chase my squeaky ball around the yard, and my family laughs as I run in circles, my tail wagging with joy. In this dream, I’m not alone. I’m not hungry. I’m happy.
But when I wake up, the reality sets in. I’m still here, still starving, still waiting for someone to notice me. The night is cold, and I shiver as I lie there, wondering if tomorrow will be any different. Will anyone see me? Will anyone care? Or will I continue to be overlooked, just a small, starving dog trying to survive in a world that has forgotten me?Despite everything, there’s a part of me that still holds onto hope. Maybe, just maybe, someone will see me tomorrow. Maybe someone will offer me food or a place to stay. Maybe someone will remember that today was my birthday, even if it’s already passed. I don’t know if that hope is foolish, but it’s the only thing keeping me going.Until then, I’ll keep waiting. I’ll keep searching. And maybe, one day, I’ll find my happy day.
