They don’t love me because I’m ugly

Min had always been different from the other dogs. Born with a deformity in his legs, he could never run as fast or play as freely as the others. His fur was patchy, and his appearance wasn’t what people typically admired in a dog. Min had spent most of his life in the corner of the shelter, watching as other, more attractive and energetic dogs were adopted by families. Every time someone entered the shelter, Min would look up with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, only to feel the familiar sting of disappointment when they passed him by.

Over time, Min began to believe something deeply hurtful—that no one would ever love him. He often thought to himself, “They don’t love me because I’m ugly.” It was a phrase that echoed in his heart every day. His once bright and playful nature had faded into sadness. He couldn’t understand why his disability and his looks made him so unworthy of love.

He saw the other dogs, full of life and beauty, being taken to new homes. They had sleek coats, sparkling eyes, and strong bodies that could run and jump. But Min didn’t have any of that. He limped awkwardly when he walked, and his fur wasn’t soft or shiny. Each time a family came to visit the shelter, they would pet the other dogs, laugh with them, and even take them home. But Min? They would look at him once, maybe frown, and move on.

Min would retreat to his corner and curl up, thinking, “No one will ever love a dog like me.” He could feel the weight of his loneliness and rejection pressing down on him. He was sure that no one would want a dog that wasn’t perfect, a dog that was broken.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Min’s spirit grew dimmer. He still longed for a family, but the hope inside him had started to fade. What family would want a dog that looked like him? He imagined all the things they must say about him—too ugly, too slow, too strange. He was certain that love wasn’t something he was meant to have.

Then one day, something different happened. A young woman named Sarah walked into the shelter. She wasn’t like the others who had come before. Her eyes didn’t linger on the playful dogs or the ones with beautiful coats. Instead, her gaze fell directly on Min, curled up in his usual corner. For the first time in a long time, someone was looking at him, not past him.

Sarah approached slowly, kneeling in front of Min’s cage. She didn’t seem to mind his limp or his scruffy fur. In fact, she smiled softly at him. “Hi, there,” she said gently, reaching out her hand. Min hesitated. He wasn’t used to this. People rarely reached out to him. But something about Sarah’s presence felt kind and warm, and slowly, he nudged his nose into her hand.

Sarah didn’t flinch at his appearance. She didn’t look away in disgust. Instead, she sat there with him, petting him softly and whispering kind words. “You’re not ugly, you’re special,” she told him, as if she could hear the doubts swirling in his head. For the first time, Min felt something he hadn’t felt in so long—hope.

Over the next few days, Sarah returned to the shelter. Each time, she spent more and more time with Min, building his trust, showing him that she saw him for who he was, not just how he looked. And then one day, something amazing happened. Sarah filled out the adoption papers and took Min home.

Min couldn’t believe it. After all the time spent thinking he wasn’t good enough, that no one would love him because of how he looked, someone had finally seen him for the beautiful soul he was. He realized that his worth wasn’t tied to his appearance or his disability. Sarah had shown him that love could be unconditional, that it wasn’t about being perfect.

In his new home, Min finally understood what it meant to be loved, and it wasn’t about how he looked on the outside. It was about the kindness, patience, and love he had in his heart—something Sarah saw from the very beginning.

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