Pawprints Unleashed: Where every paw tells a story.

When I brought Gabbar home, I didn’t just get a pet—I found a mirror to love itself. Somewhere between his wagging tail and warm eyes, I began to understand the silent ache of the dogs who never had a home.

The street dogs.

They live with hunger tucked into their ribs, with tired eyes that have seen too much, yet with tails that never forget how to wag. And still—they never failed to love.

They never left me alone on unfamiliar streets. Many times, one or two of them walked beside me, following me until I reached safely home, as if love itself wore fur and padded feet.

And then came my add-on babies—the ones I feed each day. Each bowl of food is more than a meal; it’s a promise. A quiet way of saying, you matter too. No wonder they’ve become part of my family, even if our home is made of sidewalks and corners instead of walls.

Sometimes I wonder—don’t animals have bad days too? Don’t they feel moods, or carry scars of the world like we do? But what amazes me is that, no matter how hard their day has been, they never fail to love back.

And tonight, as I write this, cuddling my heart—my Gabbar—I realize something simple yet extraordinary:

Love doesn’t ask for conditions.
It doesn’t care for perfection.
It only asks to be shared.

And in the eyes of Gabbar and my street babies, I’ve found more love than the world ever dared to give.