Fhilcar Faunillani 
Ekan lay in the grass, his fur matted, his eyes searching the empty yard. The old woman’s laughter, once warm, was gone. Her house stood silent now. Its windows, once bright with her humming, stared blankly. Ekan’s world had been her soft hands, her gentle voice, her plate of scraps after supper. She was gone, …
Her eyes were buried under matted fur, dull with exhaustion. Sprout staggered through Chicago’s streets, carrying a weight no creature should bear. She moved slowly, each step a struggle against thirty pounds of filth and neglect. Her fur, once soft, was a prison of urine and excrement. Food was a distant hope, her body too …
The dog lay curled in the grass, his ribs sharp against his skin. His eyes, heavy with loss, watched the world pass by. Cars roared along the highway. None stopped. His friend, lifeless nearby, was a shadow he couldn’t escape. I knelt beside him, my heart sinking. His tail flicked once, a faint plea. I …
The dog lay on the cold street, his jaw locked in a silent cry. A woman’s soft sob echoed nearby. She carried him to the shelter, her hands trembling with care. His tag glinted faintly, a reminder of a forgotten home. His tail hung stiff, unmoving, like a broken promise. The woman whispered he’d been …
Her eyes begged silently. A greyhound, thin as a whisper, lay in a cage too small for her bones. The metal bars pressed against her sides. Hunger gnawed her ribs. She was Coco, forgotten by time. She was meant to be a friend to children. A puppy adopted for laughter, for chasing balls in the …
The kitten was a speck of gray fluff, shivering on the cold ground. Ahe’s heart caught at the sight. She’d been walking her dog, the late afternoon sun heavy on her shoulders. The dog tugged at the leash, nose to the earth, but Ahe stopped. There, near the curb, was a bundle no bigger than …
The cat circled the narrow alley, her steps slow and endless. Thin ribs pressed against matted fur, eyes dim like forgotten windows. She turned again, body trembling under the weight of hunger. No one paused in the crowd, their footsteps echoing past. Hours slipped by in that busy place. The cat waited, as if for …
The kitten lay still on the cold concrete, small and fragile, its fur matted with glue. Johnny’s heart sank, a quiet ache spreading as he knelt beside it, unsure if it was too late. He glanced across the street. A woman stood there, snapping photos, her camera clicking like a distant heartbeat. The kitten stirred, …
The kitten trembled in Sarah’s hands, its tiny body barely heavier than a whisper. She felt its frail ribs, sharp under matted fur, and her heart sank. Beauty, her sleek black cat, had darted into the bushes during their morning walk. Sarah followed, expecting a squirrel or a leaf. Instead, Beauty’s green eyes locked on …
The cat’s eyes glistened with tears, tucked in a shadowed corner of the city street. Her faint meows trembled, a plea too soft for the rushing crowd to hear. She was small, her fur matted, her front legs twisted from some unseen hurt. Maybe a car, maybe something else. No one stopped to wonder. The …
The dog lay trembling under the car, eyes wide with fear. His small body shook, broken and alone. He didn’t understand the pain. A reckless driver had left his jaw shattered, his spirit bruised. I knelt beside him, heart heavy, whispering, “You’re safe now.” His eyes met mine—pleading, lost, yet holding a flicker of trust. …
The rain fell hard, soaking the sidewalk. A tiny puppy lay still, his fur matted and dark. His eyes, wide and frightened, flickered in the streetlight’s glow. A stranger had found him, carried him from the road. The man’s hands were gentle, his voice low. The puppy, too weak to move, whimpered softly. I arrived …
The puppy staggered forward, his thin legs trembling. His eyes, wide with fear, met ours. Lupita’s tears fell as she knelt beside him. The dusty street smelled of sunbaked earth. She whispered his name—Valiente—her voice breaking. He was a Pitbull, ribs sharp under matted fur. A chain, rusted and heavy, still clung to his neck. …
The puppy lay in the corner of the yard, her ribs sharp against her thin fur. Her eyes, wide and soft, followed the shadow of a passing cloud. She was alone. The house behind her stood empty, its windows dark, the air still. Her owners had left for vacation, their suitcases rolling out the gate …
The puppy shivered under the truck, his eyes wide, catching slivers of sunlight. He thought no one saw him, and maybe he wanted it that way. In the heat of a 39-degree Celsius day, a woman spotted him, curled tight in the shade of a parked truck. His fur was matted, his body trembling—not just …