Gold was a shadow in a bustling world. Three years of kennel life had dulled his spirit, but not extinguished it entirely. He was a golden retriever, a breed synonymous with warmth and loyalty, but his life was a stark contrast to the image. Today, his third birthday, was a hollow milestone.
There were no celebratory bones, no playful pats, no warm embraces. Just the familiar scent of disinfectant, the echoing barks of his kennel mates, and the distant hum of the shelter. He remembered the day he arrived, a frightened puppy full of hope. But hope, like a balloon, had slowly deflated over time.
He watched people come and go, their eyes skimming over the rows of kennels, searching for something, perhaps a puppy, or a dog that matched a specific image. But never him. He was too old, too big, too ordinary in a world that craved novelty.
As the day wore on, a sense of despair crept into his heart. He longed for the feel of grass beneath his paws, the warmth of the sun on his fur, and the simple joy of a belly rub. But his world was confined by metal bars and concrete.
As the shelter grew quiet, Gold curled up in his kennel, his tail tucked between his legs. He dreamt of a home, a place where he would be loved and cherished. But when he woke, reality was a harsh slap in the face. Another day had passed, another birthday marked by solitude. He was a forgotten soul in a world that moved on, indifferent to his plight. Yet, a flicker of hope remained, a tiny spark in the darkness of his kennel. Perhaps tomorrow would be different.
