Fhilcar Faunillani 
The phone rang at dawn, a woman’s shy voice on the line. “Can you help a puppy?” she asked, her words trembling with worry. A small dog had followed her, limping, hungry, alone. I drove through the early morning mist, the world still half-asleep. The woman stood by a quiet road, her hands clasped tightly. …
The old dog lay trembling in the cold. His eyes, clouded with time, still searched for someone who wasn’t there. Wenwen was a shadow of himself. His brittle body curled tight against the wind. Locals tossed scraps, draped a blanket over him. They saw his heart, broken but beating, and called for help. The rescue …
The puppy lay stiff, his tiny body locked in pain. His eyes, bright with fight, begged silently. Bosley was six weeks old, alone in a world too big for him. A stray, one of a forgotten litter, he wandered until a silent enemy found him. Tetanus, a cruel thief, crept into his small frame. No …
The puppy limped through the morning mist, tail wagging like a faint metronome. His eyes, one swollen shut, held a spark that tugged at my heart. We saw him first on a Saturday, trailing two boys down a sunlit path. His tiny paws danced, chasing their laughter. My family smiled from the car, charmed by …
The chain clinked softly against the tree. Buddy, a Labrador with eyes like warm coffee, lay in the dirt, his fur matted from summer heat. His water bowl sat cloudy, untouched. He lifted his head when the rescue team’s truck rumbled into the village, his tail thumping the ground. A spark of hope flickered in …
The dog’s eyes caught the dim light, wide and trembling. Four years in a rusted cage. His world was cold iron and filth. The floor, crusted with dirt, held his fragile weight. His fur, matted into a dull gray shell, clung to his bones like a heavy memory. A neighbor’s voice broke the silence. “It’s …
The dog lay still, her ribs sharp under thin fur. Dust settled on her as cars passed. No one stopped. She waited anyway, eyes searching for kindness that never came. Her name was Odji, though no one knew it then. She was a shadow on the roadside, forgotten. Her body, frail and trembling, held only …
The puppy lay curled tight against the gravel, a small shadow on the highway’s edge. His eyes, half-open, held a tired hope that cut through the dusk. He didn’t move when I stepped closer. His fur was matted, thin, clinging to ribs that showed too clearly. A faint tremble ran through him, like he was …
The dog’s ribs pressed against her skin. She lay beside a ditch, her eyes half-closed. Her body was thin, too thin, like a shadow stretched across the dirt. She’d crawled to a stranger’s house, her paws scraping the ground, searching for something—someone—to help. The air smelled of rot, but she stayed, her breath shallow, waiting. …
The Pomeranian’s eyes were wide, trembling under a gnarled oak. She was alone, her white fur matted with dirt. Her small body shook as a breeze stirred the leaves above. She didn’t bark or whimper. She just waited, her gaze fixed on the empty yard. A neighbor had seen her like this for weeks, tethered …
The dog lay still in the sun-scorched yard. Her swollen belly pressed against the dirt, heavy with pain. Jinni, a Golden Retriever, was chained to a rusted post. Her eyes, dull and tired, stared at nothing. A bowl of sour chili scraps sat untouched beside her. The water in her dish was murky, unfit for …
The dog’s eyes caught the morning light. She stood alone, trembling, her pup at her feet. She wasn’t just a stray. She was a mother, carrying a quiet weight of love and fear. Every day, the man saw her on his walk home, her thin frame weaving through the tall grass by the road. He’d …
The rain fell steady, cold against the asphalt. A small puppy shivered in the ditch, curled tight, eyes wide with fear. His fur clung to his tiny frame, soaked through. Every passing car sent him shrinking deeper into the shadows. I stopped, my heart heavy, and knelt beside him. He flinched, expecting harm. I whispered …
Her eyes were soft, like old leather left in the rain. She lay in the yard, alone. The ground was hard, packed dirt under her thin frame. Flies buzzed near her sores. She didn’t flinch. Her skin, cracked and raw, told a story of hunger and neglect. We heard about her from a neighbor, a …
The dog lay in the dirt, his white fur stained and matted. His eyes, soft and pleading, held a quiet sorrow that stopped the rescuers cold. Flies buzzed around him, relentless, drawn to the raw wounds on his body. He snapped weakly, too tired to fight them off. The Samoyed, a breed known for its …