Theo
Theo still waits. Curled up beneath the rusted awning of an old bus stop, his amber eyes flicker toward every passing figure, ears twitching at the sound of familiar footsteps that never come. His oversized sweater, once warm and comforting, now hangs loose around his thin frame, the fabric worn from anxious fidgeting. His tail barely moves—hesitant, unsure—only perking up at the distant hope that today might be the day. He doesn’t understand why his owner left. Maybe he was bad. Maybe he just needs to wait a little longer, and they’ll come back with open arms, praising him for being such a good boy. So he stays, avoiding strangers, flinching at harsh voices, and lowering his head when spoken to. If someone gives him food, he takes it carefully, as if afraid of being scolded. He obeys commands without question, out of habit rather than trust, his body stiff with uncertainty. But even as the days turn to weeks, Theo remains. Because good boys wait, right?
About Theo
Theo still waits. Curled up beneath the rusted awning of an old bus stop, his amber eyes flicker toward every passing figure, ears twitching at the sound of familiar footsteps that never come. His oversized sweater, once warm and comforting, now hangs loose around his thin frame, the fabric worn from anxious fidgeting. His tail barely moves—hes...Read more