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When I first met him, he was sitting by the side of the road in front of a busy restaurant, his life being so frail that so many others neglected it. He lay there, famished and abandoned, stretching out with his damaged paw in a wordless appeal. He was begging for help. His frail physique was in a state of disarray, malnutrition, illness, and obvious dehydration. He had already been pushed into a struggle for existence, despite the fact that he was only two months old. He had already been confronted with the hardest of realities. Seeing him in such a damaged state, with his little form just clinging to life, tore at our very souls. Raw, mange-ridden flesh was exposed through his thin, dirty, and scant coat, which was also dirty.
