Fhilcar Faunillani 
The puppy lay still, her tiny chest rising unevenly. Each breath seemed to ask for permission. Bunny was five and a half months old, a fragile bundle of fur and will. Born in a backyard, unwanted and imperfect, she arrived with a body that fought against her. Her legs wobbled when she tried to walk. …
The fire was out, but the air still stung with smoke. A small dog shivered in my arms, her frail body barely there. Her eyes, dull as forgotten coins, looked up at me. I felt her heartbeat, faint but stubborn, against my chest. The Chicago firefighters had pulled her from a crumbling house, a place …
The old man sat on his porch, coffee cold in his hand. A stray dog limped across the street, ribs sharp against matted fur, eyes dull with surrender. He didn’t know the dog’s story then. Only that it moved like it carried the weight of the world. The man, whose name was Henry, had seen …
The dog’s eyes were hidden under matted fur. They caught the light, pleading, soft, and sad. In the heat of a summer market, Kesha panted quietly. His thick coat trapped the sun’s weight. Subtitles flickered across the video, sparse and broken, but his gaze told the story. A crowd moved past, their voices a blur …
The kitten’s eyes glinted in the dusk, wide and uncertain, peering from the bushes. Her tiny body trembled, not from cold, but from the weight of being alone. She was small, barely a shadow against the sidewalk. The street hummed with distant cars, but she didn’t move. A volunteer knelt, her voice soft, offering a …
The cat sat on the porch, still as stone. His eyes, wide and gold, held a question. He wore a heavy chain around his neck. It clinked softly when he moved. The neighbor found him at dawn, curled against the door, as if he’d been waiting all night. He didn’t run. He didn’t hiss. He …
The cat sat alone on a Brooklyn sidewalk, dirt matted in his fur. His eyes, dull with weariness, met mine, asking for something I couldn’t name. He didn’t run when I approached. His body, thin and scratched, seemed to sigh under the weight of the streets. I knelt, offering a hand. He sniffed it, then …
The cat lay on the roadside, trembling, its breath fast and shallow. Julia’s heart ached at the sight. She knelt beside it, her coat damp from the morning mist. The cat’s fur was matted, its ribs sharp under thin skin. Blood stained the ground where it rested. Julia’s eyes stung, but she didn’t cry. She …
The rain fell hard, a gray curtain sealing the world. Lili’s boots splashed through puddles, her heart heavy with the storm’s weight. She’d been walking two hours, soaked to the bone. The delivery boy’s warning echoed—stay put, it’s too dangerous. But something pulled her back. A faint cry, barely audible over the wind’s howl. She …
The dust swirled around my tires. A faint bark broke the silence, trembling, desperate. I pulled over, gravel crunching beneath the wheels. The sound came again, softer now, like a whispered prayer. A dog stood by the roadside, her fur matted, her eyes wide with something deeper than fear. She folded her paws, almost kneeling, …
Her eyes caught the morning light, heavy with pain but bright with stubborn hope. Cora, a stray, wandered streets alone, her face swollen, each breath a small battle. She moved through alleys, unnoticed by hurried feet. The mass on her snout grew, pressing against her will to live. Yet her eyes, deep and searching, begged …
The dog lay still, her thin body pressed against the damp earth. Her eyes, dull with hunger, watched the wind move the grass. In the mountains, where the air was sharp and the nights colder, we found her. A makeshift tent of straw and sticks leaned over her, barely a shelter. The chain around her …
A Sight No One Expected On a calm morning in Galveston Bay, Texas, marine observers spotted something they could hardly believe. At first, it looked like an ordinary pod of dolphins gliding across the surface. The water shimmered, dorsal fins cut through the waves, and the scene carried the usual joy of seeing wild dolphins …
The dog lay curled beside a pile of trash. His eyes, half-closed, held a quiet sorrow.A frayed rope hung loose around his neck. A muzzle, tight and cruel, bound his jaws.No water. No food. Just the endless hum of a mountain road stretching into nowhere. A Glimpse of Kindness Dust swirled as a car slowed. …
The snow fell soft on the Yakutian street, dusting the ground where a puppy lay trembling. His cries, faint and sharp, pierced the cold beside a rusted dumpster. Someone heard him, a stranger passing by, and called me. I found him there, barely six weeks old, his tiny body curled tight against the chill. His …