I’m an old dog, nearly out of second chances. I never imagined I’d see the day a pitbull loses faith in humanity, but that’s exactly what happened to me one chilly October evening. My name isn’t important—I was simply known as “buddy” or “pal” once upon a time. I’m not a loud barker or a troublemaker, just a patient soul who loved my human.
Betrayal on a Quiet Road
We stopped on a lonely street, streetlights flickering. The wind had a sharp bite, but I figured we were just taking a break from driving. My owner, Tom, pulled me out of the backseat by my collar, tossed my favorite blanket onto the asphalt, and mumbled something about vet bills.
Before I could even comprehend the situation, his car door slammed shut. He revved the engine and sped off. I chased after him, my paws scraping the pavement, my heart pounding in my chest. My breath caught in my throat when I realized he wasn’t slowing down. And there I was—a pitbull loses faith in humanity the moment that tailpipe vanished into the night.
Wandering in the Shadows
After he left, I just stood there, stunned. Rain began to fall, soaking my fur until every step felt heavier than the last. My bed lay abandoned in the road, quickly getting soggy. Somehow, I stayed close, convinced Tom would return, that maybe this was all a misunderstanding.
Each time headlights approached, I’d perk up. But time after time, the cars zoomed right by. Eventually, I crawled under a makeshift shelter under an old bridge. The thunder overhead felt like it shook my soul. Under that crumbling concrete, I thought about how a pitbull loses faith in humanity when the one person he trusts most leaves him without a backward glance.
Sinking into Despair
I tried to ignore the gnawing hunger in my belly. Occasionally, people tossed me scraps, but I was too afraid to accept. What if they fooled me like Tom did? My stomach rumbled, and my legs trembled from days without proper food or water.
One afternoon, I limped back to that spot, half-hoping to find my blanket or a clue that Tom had come to his senses. Nothing. Just an empty curb. My vision blurred, and I collapsed, panting in the midday heat. Truth be told, a pitbull loses faith in humanity when kindness never comes, but pain always does.
Spark of Some Hope
I don’t remember losing consciousness, but I remember a gentle voice. Someone knelt beside me, offering cool water to my cracked lips. My instincts told me to pull away, but thirst won out. As I drank, my tail hit weakly against the pavement.
The stranger scooped me into his arms, ignoring the filth and the smell. He whispered, “It’s okay, buddy, you’re safe now.” Even though a pitbull loses faith in humanity easily after betrayal, something about his warmth made me think, maybe, just maybe, some humans still care.
A New Beginning
That very kind man, Johnny, took me to a vet, promising to cover any bills I had. He spoke softly, like I was important. Despite his own health troubles, he kept me close, never letting me doubt his intentions. I learned to trust again, even if part of me still braced for heartbreak.
Over time, I gained weight, found a warm bed at Johnny’s house, and discovered that not everyone throws away old dogs. My fur grew shiny; my heart grew hopeful. Turns out, even when a pitbull loses faith in humanity, love can revive that spark in the darkest of places.
All Images Including Featured Image Are Made With Midjourney AI Image Generator.
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The Inspireist