Even when the world turns its back, some souls keep waiting…

He lies by the curb, motionless.
Not barking.
Not whining.
Not even lifting his paw to wave for attention.

He just waits.

You might mistake him for sleeping, or maybe for a dog who doesn’t care anymore. But if you kneel down — really kneel, and look into his eyes — you’ll understand.

There’s something about those eyes.
A storm of sadness.
A glimmer of hope.
A question that never gets answered:
“Will someone ever come back for me?”

Once, he had a name.
A collar.
A family.
He had a warm bed to curl into, and someone who scratched behind his ears every night before bed.

But one day, the walks got shorter.
The food bowl stayed empty longer.
And then… the car ride.
The door opened.
He jumped out excitedly.
But the engine didn’t wait.
It roared to life… and drove away.

That was years ago.

Since then, he’s survived by scraps.
Sipped rainwater from potholes.
Slept under parked scooters and rusty staircases.
But he never left the curb where he was last seen. Because deep down, some part of him still believed…

Maybe they got lost.
Maybe they’d return.

Even now, he doesn’t chase after people. He just lifts his head when footsteps approach, and lowers it again when they pass by. Like his heart rises — then breaks — a little more each time.

Strangers call him “old,” “quiet,” “useless.”
But he’s none of those things.

He’s loyal.
He’s patient.
He’s strong in ways we can’t imagine.

He doesn’t need much. Just someone who sees his worth, despite the cloudy eyes and scarred skin. Someone who’ll sit beside him and say, “I see you. You matter. Let’s go home.”

Because his eyes still shine — not from tears, but from a love that refuses to fade.

And maybe… just maybe… today is the day someone stops walking and kneels down.

And everything changes.