Today is my puppy’s birthday, but as a homeless family, we can’t celebrate; we continue wandering the streets with my Puppy
Today should be a special day. It’s my puppy’s birthday. A moment meant for happiness, celebration, and love. But instead of balloons, cakes, and joyful laughter, we find ourselves wandering the streets—homeless, with nowhere to call our own. My puppy, who has been my faithful companion, looks up at me with his innocent eyes, not understanding why today is different from any other day. For him, it’s just another day of survival. For me, it’s a heartbreaking reminder of what we’ve lost.
We’ve been homeless for several months now, ever since we lost our apartment. The reasons for losing our home are many, but the most pressing was the loss of a steady job and the rising cost of living. With nowhere to turn and no safety net to catch us, we found ourselves on the streets. It’s a reality that is hard to face. The harshness of homelessness strips away not only comfort but also a sense of dignity and stability. Every day is a struggle. And yet, through it all, my puppy has remained by my side. His loyalty is unwavering, and in many ways, he’s the only family I have left.
As the world moves forward, people passing by with their own busy lives, we blend into the background. Homelessness makes you invisible. People avert their eyes when they see you, and it’s easier for them to pretend you don’t exist. It’s even harder on days like today, when I wish I could give my puppy something special—a treat, a toy, or even just a warm bed to sleep in for one night. But we don’t have those luxuries. Instead, we roam the streets together, trying to find a safe place to rest, a little bit of food to eat, and some shelter from the elements.
My puppy, despite the hardships, never complains. He’s full of energy and love, always wagging his tail, as if to remind me that life isn’t all bad. There are moments of joy, even in the darkest of times. His playful spirit gives me hope, and his presence brings me comfort. He doesn’t care that we don’t have a home or that we can’t celebrate his birthday with treats and toys. To him, the most important thing is that we are together. And for that, I am deeply grateful.
But it’s hard not to feel the weight of the world on days like this. I want to give him everything, but I have nothing to give. The streets are unforgiving, and the constant uncertainty takes its toll. We never know where we’ll sleep, or if we’ll have enough to eat. The cold bites through my clothes, and I worry about how my puppy is coping with the harsh weather. He curls up beside me at night, his small body pressed against mine for warmth. He’s my protector as much as I am his.
There are days when people show kindness, offering a small amount of food or even just a smile. These gestures remind me that not everyone turns away. Some see us for who we are—two beings trying to survive, trying to hold on to a sliver of hope. I cherish those moments, though they are few and far between. Most days, it’s just the two of us against the world, and we make do with what we have, even if it’s barely enough.
As we walk through the city streets today, I try to make it special in whatever small way I can. I find a quiet park where we can sit for a while. I let my puppy run around, chasing birds and squirrels, his tail wagging with excitement. For a moment, he forgets the cold and the hunger, and I forget the weight of my circumstances. In that brief period, it feels like a celebration. He’s happy, and that’s all I could ask for.
But as the sun begins to set, reality creeps back in. We need to find somewhere to sleep tonight, somewhere safe. The shelters are often full, and many don’t allow pets. I could never abandon my puppy, not after everything we’ve been through together. So we’ll continue wandering, looking for a quiet corner to rest until morning. It’s a cycle that never seems to end, but I hold onto hope that one day things will change.
Sometimes I dream of a better life for us. A life where we have a warm home, a soft bed for my puppy to sleep in, and enough food to fill our stomachs. I dream of a day when we can celebrate his birthday with all the love and joy he deserves. I imagine throwing him a party with treats, toys, and maybe even a few friends for him to play with. It’s a simple dream, but it feels so far out of reach.
In the end, my puppy’s happiness is what matters most to me. He’s been by my side through everything, and his loyalty has never wavered. He doesn’t care that we’re homeless. He doesn’t care that we can’t celebrate his birthday with cake or presents. All he cares about is that we’re together, and that’s what keeps me going. His unconditional love gives me strength, even when I feel like giving up.
As we continue to walk through the streets tonight, I hold onto the hope that one day, we’ll have a place to call our own. One day, we’ll be able to celebrate his birthday properly, with all the joy and love he deserves. But for now, we’ll keep wandering, side by side, through the cold and the dark. And even though we can’t celebrate today, I know that as long as we have each other, we’ll find a way to keep going.
