Dobin’s world was a quiet one, tinged with a constant undercurrent of insecurity. He was different, he knew. His body, affected by a birth defect, made movement a wobbly, uncertain affair. And his fur, a deep, glossy black, was a color that often drew frowns and whispers. He’d overheard the comments: “Black dogs are unlucky,” “He’s…different,” spoken in hushed tones as people passed his kennel.
He’d watch the other dogs at the shelter, the sleek, agile ones with lighter coats, as they received attention from visitors. He’d see the smiles, the gentle pats, the loving words. Then, he’d glance down at his own wobbly legs and his dark fur, and a deep sadness would settle in his heart.
He knew people would stay away. He’d seen it countless times. They’d stop at other kennels, their faces lighting up as they connected with a playful puppy or a regal-looking hound. But when they reached his kennel, their smiles would falter, their eyes flicking away as if they couldn’t bear to look at him.
He’d think, They think I’m ugly. They think I’m unlucky because I’m black. They don’t want a dog like me. The thought was a constant ache, a heavy weight on his small shoulders. He longed for the same attention, the same affection, the same chance at a loving home that the other dogs received.
Today, however, felt different. He could sense a subtle shift in the air, a festive energy that he couldn’t quite explain. He’d overheard the staff talking about “birthdays” and “treats,” and his tail gave a tentative thump against the concrete floor.
He didn’t fully understand the human concept of birthdays, but he sensed it was something special. He dared to hope, just for a moment, that today might be different. He thought, Maybe, just maybe, someone will see past my wobbly legs and my black fur. Maybe someone will give me a little love.
He sat patiently at the front of his kennel, his tail giving another hesitant thump. He watched as people walked by, his eyes searching for a flicker of kindness, a sign of acceptance. He didn’t expect much. He knew his appearance wasn’t his strong point. He just hoped for a small gesture, a kind word, a gentle touch. He hoped that on this special day, someone would see beyond his disabilities and his dark coat and recognize the loving, loyal heart that beat within him. He just wanted a little love, a small reminder that even a dog like him deserved to be cherished.
