The small apartment was quiet, the only sound the gentle ticking of a clock on the wall. A single, unlit candle stood perched atop a small, dog-friendly cupcake on the kitchen counter. A few colorful streamers drooped sadly from the light fixture, remnants of a hastily put-up, now-forgotten decoration. Today was Fanca’s birthday.
Fanca, a fluffy terrier mix with big, expressive brown eyes, sat patiently by the living room window, her gaze fixed on the street below. She didn’t understand the human concept of birthdays – the cakes, the decorations, the songs. But she understood routine, and today, the routine was off.
Usually, on special days, her human, Lily, would shower her with extra attention – gentle cuddles, playful games, and a flurry of happy whispers. There would be a special treat, maybe a new toy, and always, always, a warm, heartfelt “Happy Birthday.”
But today, the apartment was quiet. Lily had left for work early, with only a hurried pat on Fanca’s head and a mumbled, “Be a good girl.” There had been no special breakfast, no extra cuddles, no birthday wishes.
Fanca didn’t understand. She’d sat by the window all morning, watching the world go by, her tail giving an occasional, hopeful thump against the floor. She’d listened intently for the sound of Lily’s key in the lock, the sound of her cheerful greeting. But the apartment remained silent.
She’d sniffed the air, catching the faint aroma of the cupcake on the counter. It smelled delicious, but it sat untouched, a silent reminder of the uncelebrated day.
She thought back to other special days, other times when Lily had made a fuss over her. She remembered the excitement in Lily’s voice, the warmth of her touch, the feeling of being loved and cherished.
Now, a heavy sadness settled over Fanca. She didn’t need a big party or fancy presents. She just wanted a simple acknowledgment, a kind word, a gentle touch. She longed to hear Lily’s voice, to feel her warm embrace, to know that she hadn’t been forgotten.
She thought, Today…today is supposed to be special. But Lily hasn’t said anything. Has she forgotten? The thought brought a wave of disappointment, a pang of loneliness that echoed in the quiet apartment.
She continued to sit by the window, her gaze fixed on the street below, her tail tucked low. She was still waiting, hoping against hope, for Lily to return, for the familiar sound of her key in the lock, for the warm, heartfelt birthday greeting that would make her day complete. She was waiting for someone to acknowledge her, to celebrate her, to simply let her know that she was loved, especially on her birthday. She was waiting for her first birthday wish.
