Mie didn’t know what a birthday was. Time, for him, was measured in hunger, cold, and the endless search for survival. He was a small, shivering creature, his fur matted and dirty. Abandoned as a pup, the world had been a harsh mistress from the start.
Today was no different from any other day. The sky was a bleak canvas of gray, mirroring the emptiness of his life. He wandered the streets, his tiny body wracked with hunger. Garbage cans were his pantry, offering meager scraps that barely satiated his appetite.
He remembered the warmth of something soft, the comforting sound of a heartbeat, but those memories were fading, like a dream caught in the twilight. Now, there was only the cold, hard ground, the indifferent gaze of passersby, and the constant gnawing hunger.
As the sun began its descent, casting long, mournful shadows, Mie found a sheltered spot beneath a discarded cardboard box. The city was a cacophony of noise, but to him, it was a world of silence. He curled up, his small body trembling. There were no birthday wishes, no warm hugs, no gentle pats. Just the harsh reality of his existence.
As sleep claimed him, he dreamed of a warm home, a soft bed, and the love of a human. But when he woke, the cold, unforgiving world would be waiting. And so, another day would begin, another day of searching for something that seemed increasingly impossible: a home.
