By daily 
Today was Esi’s birthday, but instead of joy, he felt the weight of his past. Sitting by the window, his once-shiny coat bore the scars of a life he’d rather forget. He had been through hardships—neglect, mistreatment, and moments of despair that made him question his worth.
“I know I’m not beautiful,” Kon thought, his reflection staring back at him in the glass. His ears were torn in places, his fur uneven in patches. “I don’t look like those shiny dogs in the parks. Who would want to celebrate me?”
But as the day passed, a knock at the door broke his thoughts. It was you. You knelt beside him, stroking his head gently. “Happy Birthday, Kon,” you said softly. Tears welled in his eyes—not because of sadness, but because he realized someone saw past his scars, past his history, to the heart of the dog he truly was.