I used to be a dog with a complete family but today I have to spend my first birthday in a shelter. Just because I’m sick, my parents don’t want to keep me anymore.

Ame was once a  dog who lived in a complete and happy family. His world was filled with soft blankets, endless hugs, and the intoxicating scent of his human family. He had everything a  puppy could dream of. But fate, with its cruel indifference, had other plans.

On his first birthday, a diagnosis fell like a cold shower. An incurable disease, a sentence to a life cut short. The once-bright world turned into a monochrome canvas. His family, once his everything, became distant figures, their eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored his own.

The day they left him at the shelter was a blur of confusion and heartbreak. The familiar scents of home were replaced by the antiseptic smell of the shelter. The soft blankets were replaced by cold, hard metal. The endless cuddles were replaced by the indifferent stares of strangers.

Today, on his first birthday, he sat in his kennel, his tail a limp appendage. The other dogs barked and played, oblivious to his sorrow. He was a shadow in a world of noise, a ghost in a place that offered little solace. The disease was slowly taking its toll, but the loneliness was a more potent killer.

He remembered the warmth of his human family, the sound of their laughter, the feel of their hands on his fur. Those memories were like fragments of a beautiful dream, a stark contrast to his current reality. As the day wore on, he curled up in his kennel, his body trembling slightly. He was alone, forgotten, a tiny soul adrift in a world that offered no compassion.