Shuki’s heart pounded against his ribs like a drumbeat of dread. Today was his birthday, a day he had always looked forward to, filled with treats, belly rubs, and the comforting presence of his family. But this year, the day felt like a funeral, the air heavy with a sense of loss.
His parents had been acting strangely lately. They had been avoiding eye contact, whispering in hushed tones, and seeming unusually distant. Shuki had tried to be extra good, to earn their affection, but nothing seemed to change. And then, the dreaded news came.
“Shuki, we’ve decided it’s best for you to go to a shelter,” his mother said, her voice trembling. “We love you very much, but we feel like we can’t give you the attention you need.”
Shuki’s world crumbled around him. He had always felt loved and cherished by his family. He couldn’t understand why they were giving him up. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to comprehend the words he had just heard.
As the day wore on, Shuki’s heart grew heavier. He wandered through the house, his tail drooping dejectedly. He looked up at the empty windows, hoping for a sign of his family. But they were nowhere to be seen.
The night came, and Shuki curled up in his bed, his body shivering with cold. He missed his family terribly. He longed for their comforting presence, their gentle touch, their unconditional love. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of betrayal and abandonment.
