11/03/2025
A Mother’s Tears. She knew they might take her puppy away, yet she kept defending him until the very last breath…
She lay on the damp grass, pressing the tiny creature against her chest, and it felt as if the whole world had vanished. There was only her ragged, wheezing breath, and his faint, fragile squeak. Pain was etched across her face, but what struck most were her tears. Real, heavy tears, sliding down her black fur and soaking into the earth. She wasn’t looking around, nor up at the sky, nor into the empty distance — she was looking only at her baby’s face, as if trying to memorize every line of his tiny muzzle. As if she already knew that tomorrow he might no longer be there.
It was the edge of a small village. An old barn stood nearby, once used for cattle, now abandoned. And it was here, chained to the wall, that she had been left — a thin, exhausted dog with wide, sorrowful eyes. Once, she had been beautiful, strong, devoted. But too much of her life had never been hers to choose.
The owners had kept her for guarding, but then they stopped feeding her, often forgot to give her water. Her bowl stood empty more often than not. And when she gave birth, no one cared if her puppies survived. Out of ten, only two or three would cling to life. The rest were found lifeless in the straw.
She knew — this new litter would not be forgiven. Her master cursed, kicked her, muttering, “How many more? What am I supposed to do, feed all of you like cattle?” She would shrink back, curling protectively over her puppies, praying with all her dog’s soul that at least one might survive. But every time…
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