I adopted your dog today.
The one you left behind at the shelter.
The one you had for ten years — and decided you didn’t want anymore.

Did you know he’s lost weight?
Did you know he trembles at every sound and flinches at every touch?
He’s so thin. So scared.
It’s like the world has taught him not to trust anymore.

When I first saw him, his fur was matted with fleas.
His ribs were sharp under my hand.
Winter had been cruel to him, but not as cruel as abandonment.
The shelter staff told me you left him. Just… left him.

Did you move?
Did you have a baby?
Did you suddenly develop an “allergy”?
Or was there simply no reason at all — no reason good enough for the life you gave up on?

I adopted your dog today.
He doesn’t eat much yet. He doesn’t play.
He looks at me with eyes that ask questions I’ll never be able to answer:
“Why did they leave me?”
“Will you leave me, too?”

He doesn’t know me yet. But he will.

Because I will not give up on him.
I will give him a warm home, a soft bed, and food he doesn’t have to worry about.
I will give him gentle hands, patience, and time to learn that love is still real.
I will give him every ounce of loyalty and safety that he was denied.

And one day, he will wag his tail again.
One day, he will eat without fear, play without hesitation, and sleep without trembling.
One day, he will forget your cowardice.

Because I adopted your dog today.
And in this house, he is not “just a dog.”
He is family.
And he is home.

Forever.