The alley was Maris’s world. A narrow strip of concrete and shadows, littered with discarded scraps and the ever-present scent of damp earth. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had. She was a stray, a forgotten creature of the city’s underbelly, and she knew her place.
She didn’t understand the human concept of birthdays, of cakes and presents and cheerful songs. But she sensed a subtle shift in the city’s rhythm, a festive undercurrent she couldn’t quite explain. She’d seen glimpses of it before: brightly colored decorations strung across storefronts, people carrying wrapped packages, the sound of laughter echoing from open doorways.
She’d also observed the interactions between humans and their dogs. She’d seen the warm smiles, the gentle pats, the loving words exchanged between owners and their companions. She’d seen the happy dogs walking on leashes, their tails wagging furiously, their eyes bright with joy. She longed for that connection, that feeling of belonging, but she knew it was a distant dream.
She was just a stray, after all. No one would remember her birthday. No one would bake her a cake or give her a present. She had no owner to celebrate with, no warm home to return to. She had only the cold, hard concrete and the constant gnawing of hunger.
Today, though, this day that felt somehow different, a quiet hope flickered within her. She didn’t dare to expect anything, not really. She knew that a homeless dog like her wouldn’t be celebrating a birthday in the traditional sense. But still…
She thought, Maybe…maybe someone will think of me. Maybe someone will send a little kindness my way. It was a small, fragile hope, easily crushed by the harsh realities of her life. But it was there nonetheless, a tiny spark in the darkness.
She imagined, just for a moment, what it would be like to have someone celebrate her birthday. She pictured a gentle hand stroking her fur, a kind voice whispering her name, a warm meal filling her belly. It was a fleeting fantasy, a brief escape from the cold reality of her existence.
As the day wore on, and the shadows lengthened, Maris curled up in a sheltered doorway, seeking refuge from the evening chill. She closed her eyes, not daring to dream of anything more than a moment’s peace. She knew she was just a stray dog, and that birthdays weren’t for dogs like her. But even as she drifted off to sleep, a tiny part of her still held onto that fragile hope, that perhaps, somewhere out there, someone was sending her good wishes, a silent acknowledgment that even a homeless dog deserved a little bit of love on her special day.
