This is not an easy Post to read, but Panagah Amn writes from a Place that asks to be read, even between lines she dares say out loud, in the best way possible:
The morning had not yet begun to breathe.
The air was dark, silent, frozen—as if the city itself could not sleep.
After my morning prayer, I lifted a 10-kilogram bag of food onto my shoulder and stepped outside.The cold wind struck my face like a slap, but I felt no fear.No complaint.Because I knew there were souls waiting for me souls whose every day passes in this same cold, this same cruelty.
The streets were empty.No human voices.No signs of life. Only the sound of my footsteps, and my breath turning into mist in the freezing air. Along the way, street dogs began to appear one by one. Some were so thin their bones showed through their skin.Some approached slowly, with fear in their eyes as if expecting pain instead of food. When I placed the food down, they did not rush.They looked first…
then carefully stepped closer.That hesitation that shame is more painful than hunger itself.
A little further ahead, my heart suddenly stopped.
At first, I thought it was sleeping But no…
it was far too still , A lifeless body lay beside the road.
A silent being, An angel ,A car had hit him.
And as always, no one had stopped.
Not to help.
Not to check.
Not even to move his body off the road.
His body was cold but his eyes still carried warmth the warmth of pain.
His eyes were open, staring at the sky,
as if still waiting for a miracle.
As if asking:
“What did I do wrong?”
His blood had frozen on the ground.
Not only because of the cold weather but because of the cold hearts of people.
He died in pain.
In fear.
In complete loneliness.
No one held his paw.
No one whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
I gently lifted his body from the road.
And in that moment, something inside me broke, something that may never be whole again.I buried him in a quiet corner No shroud.No loud prayers. Only tears that fell without permission.
As I covered him with soil, my heart screamed:
This was not just a dog…
This was a life. A defenseless soul.They have no one.
No home.
No voice.
No rights.
They spend their lives searching through garbage just to survive.They sleep in cold drainage canals at night, only to escape stones and kicks. And still, to many people, their lives mean nothing because they are called “impure.”
Because some believe God created them only to suffer.
But the truth is simple:
They are victims.
Victims of cruelty, of indifference,of our silence.
Today, this one is gone.
Tomorrow, another.
And the day after that—more.
If we do nothing, this story will never end.
🐾💔
A Call From the Heart 🤍
Thank you Panagah. You write beautifully, from a landscape we see between your lines. I almost wish you’d say how YOU are. I know where you’re from, and should someone who read here want to know more, do express your heart. We are not a platform for raising Support, but I’d love for you, in caring for all God’s creatures, also get well yourself. My family and I absolutely love animals, and feel your pain. Now I must add this : hope you are safe, warm. This is a prayer for all our safety, Joy, Peace, Well being. Wherever we are, we pray for the protection of our territories, and that there will be people in our addresses that care for the rest of us, in communities and associated Life.
Praying there will be good things coming your way,
much peace.,🌱🌷🌿
RN
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