His Nose Was Runny, He Was Freezing, Yet He Waited for the Owner Who Had Already Run Away
The night was cold, bitterly cold, with a chill that seemed to seep into every corner of the small town. The air was crisp, biting, and sharp as it sliced through the streets. The wind howled, carrying with it a sense of loneliness and desolation. It was the kind of cold that made people hurry home, heads down, eyes fixed on the pavement, trying to escape the harshness of winter. But in the midst of it, there was one figure who remained still, a small dog huddled on the steps of an abandoned building.
His fur was damp and matted, soaked through from the wet snow that had begun to fall. His nose was runny, dripping from the cold, and his body trembled uncontrollably from the freezing temperatures. He looked as though he had been there for hours, perhaps even longer, waiting. But there was no one around to notice him, no one to take him into warmth or comfort. He was alone, and yet he waited.
The dog was small, not much more than a puppy, his fur a mix of brown and white. His eyes, however, were wide and hopeful, scanning the street in front of him as though he were waiting for someone. A person, perhaps? Someone he trusted, someone he loved? His name was Max, but to anyone who might have seen him, he was just another stray, forgotten by the world.
Max’s body shivered violently as the wind picked up again, causing him to curl up tighter into a ball, trying to shield himself from the relentless cold. His nose was a mess of mucus, and his eyes, though tired and heavy, never left the path in front of him. He was waiting. Waiting for someone who had promised him warmth and care. Waiting for someone who had long since abandoned him.
Max had been a dog once loved. He had belonged to a family, or so he thought. He had been cared for, fed, and given attention. His days had been filled with play and companionship. But one day, something changed. It was subtle at first—shorter walks, fewer treats, less affection. Then, one cold evening, his owner had left him alone in the yard. And that was the last time Max had seen him.
At first, Max had waited by the door, his tail wagging in hopeful anticipation. Surely, his owner would return soon. But as hours turned into days and days into weeks, the reality of abandonment began to set in. The warmth of his old home, the familiar voice calling his name, and the reassuring presence of his owner were gone. Max was alone in the world, left to fend for himself in the harsh, cold streets.
Yet, despite everything, he hadn’t given up. He still waited.
He waited on the cold steps of the abandoned building because that was the last place he had seen his owner. It was there, just days before, that he had been left behind. Max didn’t understand why it had happened. He didn’t know what he had done wrong. All he knew was that his owner had promised to come back for him, and he had been waiting ever since.
The runny nose, the shivers, the freezing cold—all of it was a small price to pay. In Max’s heart, there was still a small flicker of hope, a belief that one day his owner would return. That belief was the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that allowed him to endure the cruel weather and the loneliness.
Hours passed, and the world around him grew darker. The snow fell heavier now, blanketing the streets in a thick, white silence. But Max remained still, his eyes fixed on the road, as though he could will his owner to appear. He didn’t move, not even when a car passed by, its headlights briefly illuminating his small, fragile body. Max stayed in his spot, unflinching, focused only on the hope that someone would come and take him home.
As the night stretched on, the cold began to gnaw at him more fiercely. His body had become stiff, and his nose was now raw from the cold, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. But still, he waited. His mind wandered back to the days before everything changed. He remembered the warmth of his owner’s hands, the sound of laughter, the feeling of being loved. How could someone just leave him behind? How could they forget him so easily?
Max didn’t understand it. He didn’t know how or why it happened, but he believed, with every ounce of his being, that his owner was coming back. They couldn’t have forgotten about him, could they?
The hours turned into an endless night. Max felt weaker now, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. His shivers became more erratic, his body trembling uncontrollably. Yet, he still refused to leave. His loyalty, his love for the person who had once been his world, kept him rooted to that spot. He had given everything to his owner—his trust, his companionship, his heart. All he wanted in return was to be loved again, to be cared for as he had once been.
But the night grew colder, and the streets remained empty. The harsh winds swept through the city, biting at Max’s fragile body. His nose was still running, his fur drenched and matted from the snow. His paws were frozen from the cold ground, and he could barely keep his eyes open. But still, he waited. There was no one else in the world for him. No one else to turn to. Just the quiet promise that his owner would return.
Suddenly, a voice broke the silence.
“Hey, little guy… are you okay?”
Max’s head lifted slowly, his tired eyes scanning the area for the source of the voice. A figure approached him—a kind face, a warm presence. For a moment, Max wasn’t sure if he was imagining it. But then the figure crouched down in front of him, offering a hand, warm and gentle.
Max’s heart fluttered. Could it be? Was this the one he had been waiting for? His tail gave a small wag, weak and hesitant. His body was exhausted, but his spirit still burned with that small hope.
But as the person reached down to touch him, Max’s eyes lost their focus for a moment, and he collapsed forward, his small body no longer able to hold itself upright. The figure quickly scooped him up, cradling him gently in their arms. Max’s nose was still runny, his fur still damp, but the warmth of this stranger’s embrace gave him a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in so long.
“Don’t worry, little one,” the stranger murmured softly, “I’m going to take care of you now.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Max allowed himself to rest. His eyes fluttered closed, not out of resignation, but out of relief. Maybe, just maybe, the person who had abandoned him wasn’t the last person who would ever care for him. Maybe he had a chance to feel loved again.
As the stranger carried him to safety, Max’s tired mind drifted, and he allowed himself to dream of a home—a real home, full of warmth, love, and kindness. The small hope in his heart had not been for nothing.
