Another Sunday morning, weekend. It rained all night. I hear the trembling houses of the other dogs; I think we all got wet. Despite having a roof, more water gets in than under a tree. The cold morning air seeps through the cracks, making us all shiver. It doesn't take long for Mr. Robert to come out and give us that dry food, low-quality kibble that tasted good the first few months. But I, at least, am 3 years old and I'm tired of the same thing. There are other dogs who have been here for 12 years and they say nothing has changed. Many would say that at least we eat and drink water, that there are worse cases. But at my age, I need more than kibble and water. Sometimes I dream of juicy meat, something more substantial.
Mr. Robert is a serious man, always with a cold and calculating expression. Despite having many dogs, he doesn't want us to pet us or take us for walks. He sees us as an investment, something he can use for his business. Never a caress, never a kind word. Only the minimum necessary to keep us alive. Through a small hole in my cage, I look out onto the street, whose pavement has more holes than the roof of my cage. I also see a gloomy and abandoned park, with rusty swings swaying sadly in the wind. It looks as bad as it does in here. But in the distance, very far away, it looks different. The houses seem more colorful, the trees greener. I am intrigued to know what is beyond. It can't be worse than the place where I am. As soon as I have the opportunity, I will go there.
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Del gris al color
SpiritüelIn this moving tale, we follow the life of Little Gray, a dog who longs for something beyond his monotonous existence under the care of Mr. Robert. Through chance encounters and acts of generosity, Little Gray finds a new home and a new purpose unde...
