It was just past 9 PM on a wet Thursday evening when I rounded the corner near my apartment complex and spotted the drenched golden retriever shivering under the flickering streetlamp.
The rain was relentless, soaking through my coat and chilling me to the bone.
The dog looked up, its eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope.
I crouched down, extending my hand slowly, trying not to startle it.
“Hey there,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the rain’s constant drumming.
The dog hesitated, then tentatively nudged its nose into my palm.
Its fur was matted and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth I tried to offer.
The address on its collar was familiar, but I couldn’t place it immediately.
With the dog tucked under my coat, I started walking, the rain hammering down around us.
Each step felt heavy, the streetlights casting long shadows on the wet pavement.
