Cinn was a small, shivering puppy with big, innocent eyes. He’d been a stray for as long as he could remember, his days spent wandering the cold streets, searching for food and shelter. Today was his birthday, a day he had hoped would be filled with warmth and love.
But as the day wore on, Cinn realized that his dreams were just that – dreams. He was alone, cold, and hungry. The wind whipped around him, carrying the biting chill of winter. His fur was matted and dirty, his ribs showing through his thin coat.
Cinn longed for a warm home, a soft bed, and someone to love him. He remembered the stories he’d heard about families who adopted stray dogs, giving them a second chance at life. But as the hours passed, Cinn realized that his chances of being adopted were slim.
He found a sheltered spot under a parked car and curled up, his body trembling with cold. He closed his eyes and tried to forget about his loneliness. But the more he tried, the more his sadness grew. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he let them fall. He was just a small, insignificant puppy, and no one cared.
Cinn’s birthday passed, a day filled with sorrow and despair. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would ever remember him.
