Mine was a puppy different from the rest. Born with a lower jaw shorter than normal, he was a creature of oddity. His appearance, a stark deviation from the canine norm, had earned him a life of solitude. People were quick to avert their gaze, their discomfort palpable.
Today was his first birthday, a milestone unnoticed by the world around him. While other puppies frolicked with their littermates, Mine existed on the fringes of his world. He was a shadow in the bustling kennel, a silent observer of the joyful chaos.
His eating was a challenge, a constant battle against the limitations of his physical form. But he was a fighter, a survivor. He learned to adapt, to find ways to nourish himself. Yet, the constant struggle had taken its toll.
As the day wore on, fatigue crept into his small body. He curled up in a corner, his abnormal jaw resting on his paws. The other puppies played, their barks a constant reminder of his difference. He was alone, a tiny creature in a world that valued perfection.
As night fell, the kennel grew quiet. Mine was left with his thoughts, a world of shadows and loneliness. He dreamed of a world where he was accepted, where he could play without pitying glances. But when he woke, reality was a harsh slap in the face.
His birthday passed without notice, a silent marker in the relentless march of time. Mine was a survivor, a fighter, but the weight of his physical difference was heavy on his small shoulders. Yet, in the depths of his puppy heart, there was a flicker of hope, a tiny flame that refused to be extinguished.
