I keep asking myself: Where do they find the courage? What part of their conscience allows them to say, with a cheerful voice, “Come on, let’s go for a ride!”?
I’ve seen it happen countless times. A dog’s tail wagging, eyes shining with pure joy as it jumps into the car. It doesn’t know where it’s going, but it doesn’t need to. It trusts completely. To the dog, this moment with its human is always a moment of happiness—a ride, a new adventure, maybe even a visit to the park. Whatever it is, it’s sure to be something full of joy and love. They don’t know any better.
But as the car rolls forward, the destination becomes clearer. It’s not the park. It’s not the beach. It’s not a field where they can run and play. No, this is the last stop.
When the car stops and the door opens, the dog steps out eagerly, tail still wagging, its whole body shaking with anticipation. But as the human walks ahead, the leash goes on—tight, heavy with finality. The dog follows, oblivious to the shift in energy. It’s still trusting, still hopeful. It looks up at its human, still believing that the love they share is enough to protect it from whatever comes next.
But what happens next is not what the dog expects.
The leash is tied to a post, and the human walks away. Slowly, deliberately. No hesitation, no glance back. The dog stands there for a moment, confused, watching its human retreat, not understanding what’s happening, why the person who promised them everything is leaving them behind.
The confusion deepens into a silent pain—a hurt that no dog should ever have to experience. Its eyes search desperately for an answer. Its heart holds on to hope, even though the scene unfolding before it doesn’t make sense. The tail stops wagging, replaced by a stillness, a haunting understanding that the world it once trusted is slipping away.
And then, the human is gone.
The dog, still tied to the post, watches them leave, its expression a mixture of confusion, betrayal, and that pure, innocent love that only an animal can give—unquestioning, unwavering. Its eyes search the empty space where its human once stood, willing the figure to turn around, to come back.
But they don’t. They never do.
Because they know exactly what they’ve done.
And that, perhaps, is the most painful part. They know they are abandoning a living being that trusted them with its whole heart. They know they are leaving behind a creature that has given them its unconditional love, expecting nothing in return but a safe, loving home. They know what it feels like to break that trust, to destroy that bond, and yet, they do it anyway. Without a second thought, without a flicker of remorse.
I ask myself again: How can anyone who does such a thing still call themselves “human”?
It is the ultimate betrayal—the kind that cuts deeper than words can express. The kind that leaves a soul broken, a heart shattered in ways that no amount of time or distance can heal. A dog is not just an animal; it is a family member, a friend, a companion who will love without hesitation and stand by you through thick and thin. And to leave them like this? It’s not just cruel. It’s a fundamental violation of everything that makes us human.
How can anyone who has felt the unconditional love of a dog, who has been given everything by that loyal, trusting creature, ever turn away without remorse? How can anyone who has been shown what real love looks like look into those eyes—the eyes that only a betrayed dog knows—and walk away, knowing the heartbreak they have caused?
The pain of betrayal is universal, and yet, when it comes to animals, it’s often disregarded as just another act of carelessness, another moment of convenience. But the truth is, when you abandon a dog, you abandon more than just a pet. You abandon trust. You abandon love. And you abandon a part of your own humanity.
So, I ask myself again: How can they still call themselves human?
The answer is simple: They can’t. Because no real human being would ever do this. No person who understands the meaning of love, loyalty, and compassion would ever treat another living being this way. And it is this lack of compassion that truly reveals the difference between those who are human, and those who have forgotten what it means to be one.
