Luna didn’t know when her birthday was. Time, for a street dog, was a blurred concept marked by hunger, fear, and the endless search for a safe corner. She did, however, remember the day she was abandoned, a cruel twist of fate that had turned her world upside down. It was a cold, rainy morning when she was left at the doorstep of an unfamiliar house, a tiny, trembling bundle of fur. The door slammed shut, and the world as she knew it collapsed.
Her life before that was a haze of warmth and love, a time when she had a soft bed, plenty of food, and endless pats. But those memories were fading, replaced by the harsh realities of the streets. Hunger was a constant companion, a gnawing emptiness that never truly left her. She scavenged for scraps, her ribs protruding painfully against her thin skin. Fear was her shadow, the constant threat of danger lurking in every alleyway.
Today, she felt a strange emptiness. It wasn’t the usual hunger, but a deeper ache. As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows, Luna realized it was colder than usual. A shiver ran down her spine, not just from the cold, but from a sense of loss. She curled up in an abandoned cardboard box, her breath misting in the frigid air.
The city lights twinkled indifferently, a stark contrast to the darkness in her heart. There were no birthday songs, no celebratory barks, no warm pats. Just the howling wind and the gnawing emptiness in her belly. As she drifted off to sleep, a single tear rolled down her cheek, a silent plea for a home, for warmth, for love.
