One day, while walking down the road, I encountered a stray dog that caught my attention. It was a skinny little creature with a look of vigilance and helplessness in its eyes. The dog’s body was emaciated, its ribs clearly visible, and its belly was sunken in from hunger. Most of the fur on its back was gone, leaving behind patches of bare skin. It was hard to imagine what the poor dog had been through.

The dog kept its distance from me, curiously watching my every move. Despite its frail condition, I could see that it was a Pomeranian, a breed once loved and cared for by someone. But now, it was struggling to survive on the streets. No one knew how long it had been without food or shelter. The dog ran to the roadside, searching for food, but it found nothing but dry leaves.

Feeling sorry for the poor animal, I decided to help. I bought a snack and tried to feed it, but the dog was too scared to come close. I tossed the food on the ground, hoping it would eat, but after sniffing it, the dog ran away. I thought it didn’t like the smell, so I tried dog food instead. However, it showed no interest in that either. Finally, I offered the dog some water, and it eagerly licked the bottle cap, drinking quickly as if it hadn’t had water in days. It was clear that this little dog had been deprived for a long time.

Although it still refused to eat, the dog gradually started to trust me. It lay down on the ground, exhausted, and dozed off. The next day, I returned to the same spot where I had found it. When the dog saw me from afar, it ran excitedly toward me, wagging its little tail. It had already recognized me. With no resistance from the dog, I gently picked it up and placed it in a box to take to the vet.

At the hospital, the vet conducted a thorough examination. X-rays and blood tests revealed that the dog was about 3 years old and had a condition called X alopecia. It had swollen lymph nodes, inflammation, and a weak stomach. The vet also discovered several large, live ticks on its body. The dog’s condition was serious, but the vet assured me that it would get better with the right care. It was hospitalized, and treatments began immediately.

A few days later, I visited the dog at the hospital with my own pet. When it saw me, it became excited, wagging its tail. It was clear that the dog’s spirits were lifted. Its body had started to fill out, and its ribs were no longer visible. It had gained weight and was well taken care of. The dog had even become less picky about food and was more lively than before. I often took it outside to enjoy the sunlight, and it slowly started to trust me more.

I named the dog “Lucky,” hoping that it would always be blessed and never suffer again. I took Lucky home from the hospital, and its transformation was remarkable. Its fur slowly started to grow back, and it became the newest member of my family. It brought joy and companionship into our lives, and I couldn’t believe how far it had come.

Lucky’s journey from being a frail, abandoned dog to a healthy and happy companion was nothing short of miraculous. From refusing food to eagerly eating from a slow feeder bowl, Lucky’s transformation was astonishing. Looking back at how it once struggled to survive, I felt immense gratitude for its resilience. I hope Lucky will always live in the warmth and love of our home, never again feeling the fear of abandonment.