Today, I picked up this sweet soul from the shelter. And the moment he sat in the car… he didn’t bark, he didn’t wag, he just looked at me with eyes full of tears.
I don’t know why he cried. Maybe it was sadness… The sadness of waiting 8 long months behind metal bars, watching other dogs leave while he stayed.
Maybe it was all the nights he curled up alone, wondering if someone had forgotten he existed. Maybe it was confusion leaving the only place he’s known for so long, not sure whether this car ride means love… or another goodbye.
Or maybe… just maybe… those tears were hope finally breaking through the heartbreak. Maybe it was the feeling of a soft seat instead of a cold concrete floor. Maybe it was the warmth of a gentle hand instead of silence. Maybe, for the first time in a long time… he felt chosen.
He’s almost 9 years old, a senior dog. Most people walked past him because of his age. But today… he walked out of that shelter as someone’s dog.
His name isn’t just a tag anymore; it’s a promise. A promise that the rest of his life will be the best of his life.
Whether his tears were sadness or joy… doesn’t matter anymore. Because from today onward, he will never have to wonder if he’s loved.
He is.
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