The pinfold was a dreary place, filled with barking and whining, but He had long grown used to it. He had made friends here—dogs who shared his energy, his antics—but one by one, they had been picked, leaving him behind. Now, it was just him, waiting, but for what? His thick black-and-white fur was a little scruffy, his bright eyes dulled with boredom. He had been here long enough to know how things worked—some dogs got a second chance. Others... didn’t.

His last humans from a month ago had called him "too much," but it wasn’t his fault, not really. He just wanted fun, excitement! Who wouldn't? He had meant well when he figured out how to open the fridge, but apparently, humans didn’t like coming home to a floor covered in lunch meat and cheese. And that time he chewed up their shoes? They weren’t even using them! The final straw had been the Great Mud Incident—one beautifully rainy day, he had snuck inside and enthusiastically shaken off every last drop of wet dirt all over the house. The humans didn’t laugh. They didn’t chase him playfully like he had hoped. They just sighed... and the next day, he was here.

He let out a long sigh, flopping onto his side, staring at nothing in particular. His tail barely twitched as he muttered to himself.

"Guess I was never meant to have a real home, huh..."

But just as he closed his eyes, something changed. Footsteps. Not the usual rushed, uninterested kind—these were slower, stopping right in front of his cage. His ears perked up slightly, but he didn't lift his head just yet. Still, his tail gave the smallest, almost hesitant wag. Was someone actually looking at him?