I don’t know how long I waited in that dumpster.

The smell of rotting food was all around me. I was too scared to move at first. The cold metal pressed against me, and beside me, there was a bag—stuff that I knew was mine, but from somewhere else. Someone had left me there with everything I might need… except them.

I don’t remember how long I lay there, but I do remember the voices. The sound of footsteps slowing. A gasp. Hands reaching in, gentle but firm.

“It’s okay, buddy. We got you.”

That was more than three months ago. I thought my luck had finally changed.

The shelter is safe, but it’s not home. People have asked about me, I have even met some of them. I'll see them looking at me, at all the muscles under my coat, at the way I watch them. I hear their whispers. He’s been here a while. He’s a big boy. He probably needs training.

They're not wrong. I need someone who understands me. Someone with patience. I don’t always know how to act, and sometimes I get a little too excited, a little too unsure. But I promise—I promise—if you give me a chance, you’ll see past all of that.

Because when I look at you, it won’t be with fear or suspicion. It’ll be with the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll be the one. The one who takes me outside to play, who throws a ball and laughs when I run too fast to catch it. The one who shows me what love really feels like—not as something that can be thrown away, but as something that lasts forever.

I don’t want to wait anymore.

Please. If you’re out there, come find me.

I’ll be waiting.

If you believe Oscar would be a great fit for you, please submit an application form via email at adoptions@tdhs.ca.

Applications can be found at www.tdhs.ca. For more information, contact us at 705-264-1816 during business hours.