Five years. That’s a long time to live on the streets. Five years of dodging cars, scavenging for scraps, and seeking shelter from the wind and rain. Five years of being just another stray, a shadow moving through the city’s underbelly. Today, according to the faded calendar hanging inside the nearby bakery (which Teser often peered at through the window), was his fifth birthday.
He didn’t understand the human concept of birthdays, of cakes and presents and cheerful songs. But he sensed a subtle shift in the city’s rhythm, a festive undercurrent he couldn’t quite place. He’d seen glimpses of it before: brightly colored decorations strung across storefronts, people carrying wrapped packages, the sound of laughter spilling out from open doorways.
He’d also observed the interactions between humans and their dogs. He’d seen the warm smiles, the gentle pats, the loving words exchanged between owners and their companions. He’d seen the happy dogs walking on leashes, their tails wagging furiously, their eyes bright with joy. He longed for that connection, that feeling of belonging, but he knew it was a distant dream.
He was just a stray, after all. No one would know it was his birthday. No one would bake him a cake or give him a present. He had no owner to celebrate with, no warm home to return to. He had only the cold, hard concrete and the constant gnawing of hunger.
Today, though, this day that felt somehow different, a quiet sadness settled over him. He thought back to the few fragmented memories he had of a time before the streets, a time when he had felt warmth and affection. He couldn’t quite grasp the concept of a birthday, but he remembered the feeling of being cherished, of being important.
He found a quiet corner in a narrow alleyway, a small patch of shade offering a brief respite from the midday sun. He curled up into a tight ball, his head resting on his paws, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. He looked out at the empty alleyway, the wind whistling through the narrow space between the buildings. He thought, Five years…today is my birthday…but no one will care. No one will remember me. I’m just a stray dog.
The thought was a heavy weight on his small shoulders, a deep ache in his heart. He didn’t expect grand gestures or extravagant displays of affection. He just longed for a simple acknowledgment, a kind word, a gentle touch. He wished, just for a moment, that someone would see him, truly see him, and recognize the gentle soul that resided within.
As the day drew to a close, and the darkness deepened, Teser remained in his quiet corner, his tail tucked tightly between his legs. He closed his eyes, and in his dreams, he was surrounded by warmth and love. He dreamt of a home, a family, a place where he belonged. But when he awoke, the cold reality of the alleyway would remain, a stark reminder of his loneliness and the fact that, to the world, he was just a forgotten stray, a dog whose fifth birthday had passed unnoticed and uncelebrated.
