Two Companions
It was a sweltering summer day, the kind when the blazing sun forced people to hurry past and hide indoors. On the pavement, under the shade of a weary old tree, sat an old man. His eyes followed the rushing crowd, searching, hoping… that someone might pause, smile, perhaps even ask how he was. But the world was too busy.
As he sat lost in thought, an old dog wandered by. At first, the dog passed him without a glance. Then, as if pulled by an unseen thread, it stopped, turned, and with a wag of its tired tail, trotted back to the old man. Gently, it sat by his side.
The old man blinked in surprise. “Well now,” he murmured, patting his knees. “What’s a fine fellow like you doing on the streets?”
The dog looked at him with weary eyes and sighed, “Fine fellow? You must be joking. Once, yes—I was young, handsome, adored. People fed me, hugged me, called me family. But now I’m old, my body aches, my muzzle is gray. To them, I’m just a burden, a nuisance. No one wants me anymore. No one cares.”
The man’s eyes softened. He reached out, stroking the dog’s back with trembling fingers. “My friend,” he said quietly, “we are in the same boat. I too was once young and strong. I had wealth, a home, children I adored, and a wife who loved me. I lived the life people envy. But time changes everything. My children turned away, my family cast me aside, and now here I am—an old man with nothing but these rags on my back.”
The dog lowered its head onto the man’s lap. “Why are humans so cruel?” it asked. “Why do they love us when we are young and strong, but abandon us when age weakens us? Is loyalty worth nothing? Did I not guard their home, cheer their lives, love them with all I had?”
The old man gave a bitter smile. “That is the irony of life, my friend. Too often, those we love most hurt us deepest. You were once their joy, their guardian, their pride. Yet when you grew old and frail, they cast you out, forgetting all you gave. And I… I know the feeling too well.”
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the sound of hurried footsteps passing by. Then the man sighed. “I have no riches left, no food to share—it has been days since I’ve eaten. But what I do have is this spot of shade, these tired arms, and my company. If nothing else, we can face this world together. Tonight, you will not sleep alone.”
The dog pressed closer, tail wagging faintly, eyes closing in trust.
The old man leaned back against the tree, wrapping his arms around his newfound friend. “They say a dog is man’s best friend,” he whispered, a tear tracing his cheek. “And today, I have found mine.”
Under the fading sun, man and dog drifted into sleep—two souls discarded by the world, but finding comfort in each other.