I Am Don, and This Is How I Lost and Found My Home
My name is Don.
I was still a tiny bundle of fur when I first entered her life. It was New Year’s Day. Lights flickered everywhere, the air smelled of pine needles and freshly baked cookies, and the world felt warm and loud all at once. When Nevena saw me inside the box with the red ribbon, she screamed with joy. Her boyfriend Marko smiled proudly as he placed me into her arms. In that moment, I was certain of one thing.
This was my home.
Nevena’s hug was warm, and her laughter sounded like music. I made a promise to myself that day, even though I could not put it into words. I would make her happy every single day.
For a while, life was good.
I ran beside her in the park, slept curled up near her bed, and licked away her tears whenever she was sad. Nevena and Marko argued often. Their voices were loud, sharp, and filled with things I did not understand. But I knew what I could do. I stayed close to her. I nudged her hand. I wagged my tail. I tried to push the pain away as best I could. I believed that was my purpose. To protect her.
Then came the day everything between them fell apart.
Marko was gone. And Nevena started looking at me differently. Colder. As if I had become part of everything she wanted to leave behind.
One morning, she picked up the leash. I thought we were going to the park. Instead, she led me down a dusty street. She tied me to a lamppost, knelt down briefly, and said in a trembling voice: „Sitz, Don.“
Then she walked away.
I waited.
First minutes. Then hours. Then darkness fell. She did not come back. Not that night. Not the next day.
The street was unforgiving. Cold crept into my bones. Hunger burned in my stomach. Some people stopped to pet me briefly. Others chased me away or kicked toward me. I learned to hide. I learned to search trash for something edible. I learned how to smell danger before it reached me.
But I never forgot her first look. Her laughter. Her warmth.
Sometimes I dreamed of it, only to wake up on cold asphalt, alone, my fur dirty, my hope growing quieter with each passing day.
Years went by.
My coat became dull. My eyes tired. I was just another dog no one really saw.
And then, a few months ago, something happened that I still struggle to believe.
A woman stopped when she saw me lying under a park bench. She did not walk past. She looked at me, knelt down, slowly reached out her hand, and said softly: „Komm, Kleiner. Wir gehen nach Hause.“
At first, I thought it was an illusion. Like a dream that would shatter the moment I moved.
But Mirjana truly took me with her.
She washed me. She fed me. She gave me a bed. In the beginning, I was afraid. Every day, I waited for the moment she would leave too. For the moment she would change her mind.
But she stayed.
Every day.
With a calm voice. With gentle hands. With patience. She talked to me as if she understood how long I had been out there. And again and again, she said: „Du bist jetzt sicher.“
Today, I lie next to her sofa. My belly is warm and full, and my heart is slowly learning how to trust again.
Sometimes I think about Nevena. I am not filled with anger. Maybe she was lost herself. I only know this. No animal deserves to be left behind as if it were nothing.
Mirjana did not simply take in a dog.
She gave me my home back.
And for the first time in many years, my tail is wagging again.
