Pamle’s tail hung low as she sat by the front door, her gaze fixed on the bustling street outside. Today was her birthday, a day she usually celebrated with her foster family, but this year was different. She knew it was coming.
Her foster parents had been kind, but they had recently mentioned that they were struggling to care for her. Pamle was getting older, and her arthritis was making it harder for her to get around. They had told her they were going to have to take her to a shelter.
Pamle’s heart ached. She had loved her foster home. She had slept on the couch, received belly rubs, and gone on walks. The thought of being alone in a shelter, surrounded by unfamiliar dogs and people, filled her with dread.
As the day wore on, Pamle couldn’t help but cry. Tears rolled down her face, leaving wet streaks on her fur. She missed her foster family and the comfort of her home. She longed for the feeling of a warm lap to curl up on and the sound of a familiar voice.
As the sun began to set, Pamle knew it was time. Her foster parents came over and picked her up, their voices filled with sadness. Pamle whimpered and tried to wriggle free, but her paws were weak. As they walked out the door, she turned back one last time, her eyes filled with tears. She knew she might never see her foster home again.
