The yard felt smaller each day.
The chain was always tight around my neck.
It did not matter where I stood.
Cold ground pressed into my bones.
My belly ached with a sharp, empty pain.
Some days food came.
Some days it did not.
I learned not to expect anything.
The wooden box beside me smelled old and damp.
Wind slipped inside and stayed.
At night, the cold crawled into my chest.
I curled up and waited for morning.
People passed the gate without stopping.
Their shoes moved fast like I was not there.
I watched them anyway.
Watching was all I had.
My ribs showed through my skin.
My tail still moved sometimes.
I wagged quietly, just in case.
Hope lived inside me, even when hunger hurt.
I remembered being a puppy once.
I remembered soft dirt and running feet.
That felt like another life.
Now my world was a short circle.
I paced until my paws hurt.
The chain clinked each time I turned.
That sound followed me everywhere.
When voices came, my body froze.
I stayed still so nothing bad would happen.
I did not bark.
I did not cry.
I waited.
One day, footsteps slowed.
A woman stopped and looked at me.
Her eyes changed when she saw my body.
She knelt down instead of walking away.
Her voice was gentle and low.
I smelled kindness on her hands.
My tail moved before I could stop it.
She did not flinch.
She whispered my name later, but I did not know it yet.
A bag opened, and food smell filled the air.
My stomach twisted with need.
I ate fast, afraid it would vanish.
I looked up between bites.
She was still there.
Something warm cracked open in my shattered heart.
The woman talked to the house.
Her voice stayed calm.
Other voices sounded sharp and tired.
They shrugged like I did not matter.
I stared at the ground.
That was safer.
The woman left food and water.
She promised to come back.
Promises were new to me.
Night came again.
Cold wrapped around my body.
I dreamed of running, then woke to the chain.
Morning hurt worse.
Then a car door closed nearby.
My heart raced.
The woman came back.
Her face looked sure this time.
She walked toward me slowly.
A leash appeared in her hand.
My body went stiff.
Leashes used to mean pain.
She waited.
She let me sniff.
Nothing bad happened.
The chain was lifted away.
My neck felt strange and light.
I stepped forward and stopped.
The world past the yard felt too big.
She whispered again.
I trusted her.
For the first time, I chose hope.
The car ride was loud and confusing.
Every sound made me flinch.
A hand rested near my back.
It did not grab or push.
The road moved fast outside the window.
I had never gone that far before.
We stopped at a bright place.
People spoke softly and frowned at my body.
Hands touched me carefully.
They wrapped me in a blanket.
Warmth sank into my skin.
Food came slowly, small and safe.
Water stayed nearby.
No one took it away.
I waited for shouting.
It never came.
They called me Groot.
A name settled into my chest.
Rachel visited me often.
Each time I saw her, my tail moved harder.
I learned her face meant safety.
My body stopped shaking as much.
Kindness felt strange, but it stayed.
Days passed.
My ribs hurt less.
Food came on time.
My belly began to trust.
Sleep came deeper.
I stopped waking up at every sound.
Sometimes I dreamed of the chain.
I woke up scared.
A gentle hand always found me.
That hand told me I was safe.
My eyes grew brighter.
My coat stopped looking dull.
People smiled when they saw me.
They said I was gentle.
They said I was sweet.
I leaned into hands instead of shrinking away.
I learned scratches behind my ears felt good.
I learned toys did not hurt.
I carried one around just to feel proud.
I wagged without fear.
Healing happened slowly, one soft moment at a time.
Then one day, we went to a house.
Sunlight filled the rooms.
The floors were clean and warm.
I sniffed everything.
The people there sat down to my level.
They did not rush me.
They waited.
I took one step.
Then another.
My legs trembled, but I kept going.
A lap was offered.
I rested my head there.
A deep sigh escaped my chest.
No chain pulled me back.
No hunger clawed at me.
They whispered that I was home.
I wanted to believe them.
I slept on the couch.
I expected to wake up alone.
I did not.
The same arms were still there.
Safety felt real for the first time.
Morning came, and nothing changed.
That felt like a miracle.
Food waited in my bowl.
Water sparkled nearby.
No one rushed me.
I ate slowly.
The bowl stayed.
I walked away and came back.
It was still full.
My tail lifted higher.
Outside, grass touched my paws.
I froze at first.
Then I sniffed it.
It smelled alive.
I walked instead of paced.
I ran a little.
Nothing stopped me.
A laugh filled the yard.
It did not scare me.
I brought a toy back proudly.
They clapped.
They called me a big goofy baby.
I liked that name.
Freedom tasted like sunshine and laughter.
Weeks passed.
My body grew stronger.
My steps turned bouncy.
I played without fear.
At night, memories came back sometimes.
The chain sound echoed in my head.
My body went still.
My person noticed every time.
They sat beside me.
They rubbed my chest slowly.
Their breathing stayed calm.
Mine followed.
The fear passed.
Leaving did not mean forever anymore.
The door closed and opened again.
Each return stitched me together.
I followed my person everywhere.
Just to be close.
I rested my head on their leg.
I showed my belly.
Trust felt brave.
Love repaired what neglect tried to destroy.
Sometimes I think about the yard.
If Rachel had not stopped, I might still be there.
That thought makes my chest tight.
Rachel and her team saw me.
They did not look away.
They spoke up when I could not.
They chose patience.
They chose kindness.
Because of them, my life changed.
Now I sleep without fear.
I eat without panic.
I play without pain.
I am Groot.
I am safe.
I am loved.
The chain is gone, and the miracle stayed.
Tonight, I curl up close.
The past cannot reach me anymore.