— A story they can’t tell, but we must.

I wasn’t born to be tied to a tree.

I wasn’t born to sit alone in the dirt, in the rain, in the cold, waiting for footsteps that never come.

I remember a time—faint, like a dream—when someone looked at me and smiled. When a hand reached out not to fasten a chain, but to scratch behind my ears. I remember a time when I believed in words like “good boy” and “forever.”

But forever didn’t last long.

They say dogs love without limits. That we don’t care where you live, what you wear, or what you’ve done. That’s true. All I ever wanted was to be part of the pack—to be your shadow, your joy, your quiet companion on long days.

But one day, I made too much noise. Or maybe I grew too big. Or maybe someone just stopped caring. And instead of a walk, I got a chain.

Now I sit here.

Day after day.

Watching people pass, not even slowing down. Barking, sometimes. Not because I’m angry—but because I want someone, anyone, to see me. To see that I’m still here. Still waiting. Still hoping.

And it hurts. Not just the chain around my neck. But the silence. The loneliness. The way my heart still races at the sound of footsteps, only to break when they fade away again.

I don’t want toys. I don’t want treats. I just want to be loved.

Because I was never meant to be decoration. Never meant to be a forgotten backyard burden. I was meant to be family.

So if you ever decide to bring someone like me into your life… please, don’t do it out of impulse. Don’t do it because you’re lonely for a moment.

Do it because you’re ready to love. Ready to stay. Ready to treat us like what we are:

Family.

It’s that simple.