Oliu didn’t remember a time before the streets. He was a survivor, a creature shaped by the harsh realities of city life. Today, his birthday, a milestone marked by emptiness, served as a stark reminder of his solitary existence.
He’d been abandoned as a pup, a tiny, defenseless creature left to fend for himself. The world had been a cold, unforgiving place, and he’d learned to adapt, to survive. But survival was not living. It was a constant battle against hunger, cold, and the indifference of humanity.
He longed for the warmth of a home, the comforting presence of a human. The memories of such a life were vague, mere echoes of a world he could barely remember. But the longing for it was a constant companion. He watched as people walked their dogs, their laughter and joy a stark contrast to his solitary existence.
As the day wore on, a sense of despair washed over him. He found solace in a quiet corner, a place where he could be alone with his thoughts. The city lights were a distant, cold beauty, offering no warmth or comfort. He curled into a ball, his body trembling from cold and loneliness.
In the darkness, he dreamt of a different life, a life filled with love and care. He dreamt of a soft bed, of warm meals, and of the gentle touch of a human hand. But when he woke, reality was a harsh slap in the face. Another day had passed, another birthday marked by solitude.
Oliu was a survivor, a creature defined by resilience. Yet, in the depths of his weary heart, a flicker of hope remained. Perhaps, just perhaps, one day, he would find a home, a place where he would be loved and cherished. Until then, he would continue to survive, one day at a time.
