I try to feed and care for stray dogs and cats whenever I can. This morning, a new face appeared in front of my place, an old stray, eyes red, body frail, clearly sick. I’ve seen him before, a couple of blocks away, running with another group of dogs. But I guess age caught up with him, and his pack decided he was no longer part of them.
Funny thing is, my little pack accepted him without hesitation. No growls, no fights, just quiet acceptance. I hope it stays that way. I’m going to feed him, keep him safe, and make sure he gets whatever comfort I can give him.
It reminded me of something harsh but true: no matter how useful, important, or central you are today, the day will come when age or time pushes you aside. You stop fitting into the fast rhythm of the pack, and life moves on without you. It’s not cruelty, it’s the cycle of life.
Some get cast out. Others find a new place. If you’re lucky, you stumble into a pack that still makes space for you.
