Black was a small, black dog with a mournful expression. He was often called an unlucky dog, a superstition that had followed him since he was a puppy. People believed that his dark fur and somber eyes brought bad luck. But Black didn’t mind. He was a gentle soul who simply wanted to be loved.
Today was Black’s birthday, a day he’d been looking forward to for weeks. He’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, the superstition about his luck would be forgotten for one day. He waited by the door, his tail wagging hopefully, as he listened for the sound of his human’s footsteps.
But as the day wore on, Black’s heart sank. No one came to wish him a happy birthday. He wandered through the house, his tail drooping sadly. He sniffed at his empty food bowl and looked longingly out the window. He felt so alone and unwanted.
Just as Black was about to give up hope, he heard a faint scratching sound at the door. His heart raced with excitement as he jumped up and barked. The door creaked open, and there stood a small, scruffy dog. The dog’s name was Shadow, and he was a stray who had been hanging around the neighborhood.
Shadow padded over to Black and wagged his tail. “Happy birthday,” he said, his voice soft. “I heard you were feeling lonely.”
Black’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude. He had never had a friend before. As he and Shadow played together in the backyard, Black realized that luck wasn’t about winning or losing. It was about having someone to share your life with. And in Shadow, he had found a friend who loved him unconditionally.
