Oyo’s Little World ❤️

Oyo was a cute little poodle who had a very comfortable life. He was brought home by the son of the family, who loved him dearly. He would take Oyo to the doctor, take him for grooming, play with him, and make sure he was always looking his best. But when it came to waking up early for his morning walk or making sure his food was served on time, it was usually his parents who took charge.

Oyo didn't mind this arrangement at all. After all, why should he? He had people to love him, people to feed him, and people to take him wherever they went.

His life was almost perfect.

He would sit with the family while they watched television, follow them from one room to another, and sometimes simply lie down nearby, happy to be part of whatever was happening. When the family went out in their car, Oyo often went along. He was rarely left alone, and even when nobody was paying him attention, he knew his people were around.

That was enough for him.

He also had his little attitude.

During his walks, whenever he met other dogs in the colony, he would look at them with a certain confidence. Some dogs had to wait for their owners to return from work. Some were left alone for hours. Others spent most of their time with their fellow dogs.

Oyo couldn't understand their lives.

Poor fellows, he might have thought. Look at me. I have a family that takes me everywhere. I eat well, sleep well, watch television with my people, and never have to look for company. What more could a dog want?

Life was good, and Oyo had no reason to think otherwise.

Until one day, his family had to travel abroad for work.

They would be away for two months.

The family was worried about leaving Oyo behind, but a friend offered to take care of him. It seemed like the perfect arrangement. The friend had three dogs, several cats, and birds. They were a pet-loving family, experienced in looking after animals.

Oyo's family felt reassured.

"He will have so much company. He won't feel lonely," they thought.

The new family was equally happy to have him.

"What's one more dog?" they said. "He will have plenty of company here."

And so, Oyo was taken to his temporary home.

On the first day, he watched his family leave. He stood near the gate for a long time, looking in the direction their car had disappeared.

He was not used to this.

Usually, when his people went out, they came back soon. And if they took longer than expected, there was always someone else at home.

This time, nobody came back.

He went inside when the new family called him. They gave him food, showed him his bed, and introduced him to the other animals.

Everyone was friendly.

The three dogs came forward to sniff him. One of the cats walked past him as if he were just another piece of furniture. The birds continued their conversations without even bothering to look at him.

Oyo looked at them all.

There was so much happening in this house. He thought he should be happy. After all, he had never been in a place with so many animals before.

But somehow, he wasn't.

That evening, when the other dogs began chasing one another around the house, Oyo sat quietly near the people. He watched them run, jump, and roll over each other. They seemed to be having a wonderful time.

One of the dogs came towards him, perhaps inviting him to join the game.

Oyo moved away.

He wasn't interested in playing just then. He wanted someone to sit beside him and pat his head. He wanted to hear a familiar voice calling his name.

The new family was kind, but they had three other dogs to feed, cats to attend to, and birds that demanded their share of attention. They did look after Oyo, but they could not spend the entire day with him.

Oyo didn't understand this arrangement.

In his own house, when he wanted attention, he usually got it. Here, he had to wait.

And waiting was something he had never learned to do.

The next morning, the new family took all the dogs out for a walk. Oyo followed them, but he stayed close to the humans. The other dogs ran ahead, sniffing trees and greeting dogs they knew.

They seemed to know everyone.

Oyo didn't know anybody.

When another dog approached him, he moved closer to the person holding the leash. He wasn't frightened exactly. He just didn't know what to do.

The other dogs had their own friendships and routines. They had been living together for a long time, and Oyo was the newcomer.

Nobody was deliberately excluding him. They simply carried on with their lives.

But Oyo began to feel that he didn't belong there.

Back in his apartment, he had always thought that being a dog meant having a family that looked after you. He had never given much thought to what other dogs did all day or how they spent their time.

Now, he watched these dogs playing with one another and wondered why he couldn't be like them.

Why did they seem so happy together when he was not?

Was something wrong with him?

He tried to sit near them sometimes. He watched their games from a distance. But just when he thought of joining, they would run off in another direction, and he would be left standing there.

So he returned to the humans.

They were his comfort zone.

Except that even the humans were not always available.

One afternoon, Oyo walked into the living room and found the family sitting together. He went to one person and placed his little head on their knee.

The person patted him affectionately and then returned to what they were doing.

Oyo waited.

Perhaps there would be another pat. Perhaps someone would call him over and let him sit beside them.

Nothing happened.

After a while, he got up and went to another person.

The same thing happened.

Everyone was kind to him. Nobody chased him away. But nobody seemed to understand that he wasn't asking for food or a place to sleep.

He was asking for a little more of them.

That evening, he ate his food and went to his bed. The other dogs were still playing. He could hear them moving around, having the sort of fun that seemed to come so naturally to them.

Oyo turned around in his bed and closed his eyes.

He missed home.

He missed the familiar smell of his apartment, the sound of his family's footsteps, and the television playing in the background. He missed the little things that he had never noticed when they were part of his everyday life.

Most of all, he missed knowing that his people were there.

He began to understand something, though he could never have explained it in words.

A house could be full of animals and still feel lonely.

A family could be kind to him and still not feel like his family.

And having company was not the same as having someone with whom he felt completely comfortable.

Days passed.

Oyo slowly became familiar with the new house. He knew where the food was kept, where the other dogs liked to sleep, and which corner of the living room was quietest. He became a little more comfortable with the routine.

But every time someone opened the gate, he looked up.

Every time a car stopped outside, he listened.

Perhaps today.

Perhaps his family was coming back.

He had no calendar to cross off the days. He didn't know what two months meant. He only knew that the people he loved had been away for a very long time.

One day, while the other dogs were playing, Oyo sat near the entrance and watched them.

He remembered how he used to meet the dogs in his own colony. He remembered how proud he had felt about his life, how he had believed he was luckier than all of them.

He wondered what he would say to them if he ever met them again.

Perhaps he would still be proud of his family. He loved them, after all. But now he knew that not every dog wanted the same kind of life.

Those dogs seemed happy with their own company. They could play together for hours without needing a human to join them.

Oyo was different.

He liked people. He liked their voices, their touch, their presence. He liked being part of their everyday lives, even when nothing special was happening.

And there was nothing wrong with that.

He didn't have to become another dog just because the other dogs seemed happy.

He only wanted his own people back.

Finally, the day came.

Oyo heard familiar voices outside the gate.

At first, he lifted his head, unsure. He had heard so many voices over the past two months. He had watched so many people come and go.

Then he heard his name.

"Oyo!"

He knew that voice.

He jumped up and ran towards the gate. His tail began wagging before he could even see them properly. And when the door opened, there they were.

His people.

For a few seconds, he seemed unable to decide whom to reach first. He ran to one, then the other, jumping, barking, and wagging his tail as if he had been saving all his happiness for this one moment.

His family bent down to hug him. They laughed at his excitement and kept calling his name.

They had missed him too.

Oyo did not care about the other dogs anymore. He did not care about the cats or the birds. He did not even look back at the house that had sheltered him for two months.

He wanted to go home.

And when he finally settled into the familiar car, sitting beside his family, he seemed to relax. The journey back was ordinary. The road was familiar. His people were beside him.

But for Oyo, nothing about it felt ordinary.

He was going home.

I don't know what Oyo thought during those two months. Perhaps I am giving him more thoughts than a little poodle could have. But watching him made me think about how we humans behave when life takes us away from everything familiar.

We often assume that someone who has company cannot be lonely. We think that if people are friendly, if the place is comfortable, and if all their basic needs are taken care of, they should be happy.

But Oyo had all those things.

What he missed was something nobody could arrange for him.

He missed belonging.

And perhaps we are not very different.

We may move to a new country, join a new office, enter a new family, or find ourselves in a room full of people who are perfectly nice to us. We may smile, make conversation, and even enjoy ourselves.

Yet, somewhere inside, we may still be waiting for one familiar voice, one person who understands us without an explanation, or one place where we don't have to make an effort to fit in.

Oyo didn't need a house full of animals to be happy. He needed the people who made him feel at home.

And maybe, sometimes, that is all we need too.