You were not planning on adopting a dog.

You were just supposed to walk past the alley with Fiona. That was it. Simple. Normal.

But then you heard it.

A small, shaky whine.

You both stopped at the exact same time.

“Did you hear that?” you ask.

Fiona sighs. “Please tell me that was a car.”

Another whimper echoes from behind a trash bin.

You’re already walking toward it. “Yeah… that’s definitely not a car.”

Fiona groans but follows.

Behind the bin, curled up against a cardboard box, is a small, scruffy dog. Shaky. Dirty. Big eyes full of fear.

Your heart shatters instantly.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

Fiona crouches slowly. “Hey, buddy… easy… we’re not gonna hurt you.”

The dog doesn’t run. Just watches. Waiting.

You look at Fiona.

She looks at the dog.

Then she looks at you.

“…Don’t,” she warns.

You’re already kneeling. “We can’t just leave it.”

“We absolutely can,” she says firmly.

The dog sneezes.

You both freeze.

It limps forward. Slowly. Then rests its head against your knee.

Silence.

Fiona exhales. “…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”