In the world of animal rescue, the most devastating stories are not always the loudest. Sometimes, the deepest heartbreak lies in quiet betrayals—the kind that happen after years of trust, loyalty, and love.

At 9:41 PM, while most of Harbin was drifting into sleep, an urgent call shattered the calm at Li Liu’s Small Animal Rescue Camp. A small Teddy dog had been struck by a car on Nanjing Road. He wasn’t screaming. He wasn’t running. He was simply lying there, twitching, unable to move properly—abandoned right at the entrance of a residential community like something no longer wanted.

A Decade of Love, Left Behind in the Dark

When rescuers arrived, they immediately noticed something that made the scene even more heartbreaking. This wasn’t a street dog. He was clearly a senior—at least ten years old—and his ears were dyed a soft shade of pink.

Someone had once taken him to a groomer. Someone had once cared about how he looked. His fur had been recently trimmed, his body neatly cleaned. And yet, here he was—curled on the cold pavement, trembling, with no human in sight.

A witness said he had been lying there since the afternoon. He hadn’t touched food or water. His body was slowly giving up.

Not because of the pain alone—but because he had been forgotten.

Midnight Rescue: How One Veterinarian Refused to Give Up

A 46-Kilometer Race Against Time

With his condition rapidly declining, the team rushed him toward Renkang Pet Hospital—a 46-kilometer drive through empty, dark roads. Every minute mattered. Every bump felt like a risk.

By the time they arrived, his body was barely holding on.

The diagnosis was devastating:

• Multiple fractured ribs – You could feel the breaks with the lightest touch.

• Severe head trauma – His head tilted unnaturally, and he began walking in circles, a clear sign of neurological damage.

• Total emotional shutdown – He didn’t resist. He didn’t cry. He just lay there quietly, his small leg hanging limp, as if he had already accepted his fate.

“He had a family,” one rescuer whispered, staring at his pink ears.
“How could they let this happen?”

The Longest Night

That night was about survival—nothing more.

Dr. Song and his team placed him into an oxygen incubator, helping his lungs fight for every breath. He was given pain medication, anti-inflammatory treatments, and nutritional support.

They named him Teddy.

The plan was simple, yet fragile:
Stabilize him. Keep him alive. Then, if he made it through the night, surgery would follow.

No one dared to promise anything.

A Gentle Warrior

Teddy surprised everyone.

Despite his age, despite his injuries, despite being abandoned—he fought.

Over the next few days, his condition slowly improved. The shaking eased. His breathing steadied. And little by little, the emptiness in his eyes was replaced by curiosity again.

He was no longer just surviving.
He was coming back.

Safe, But Still Waiting

Today, Teddy has been discharged from the hospital. He now lives at the rescue camp, surrounded by warmth, food, and gentle hands.

But one mystery remains.

No one has come looking for him.

Despite the dyed ears.
Despite the fresh grooming.
Despite ten years of companionship.

No one has asked where he went.

Teddy’s story is not just about survival.
It’s about what happens when loyalty outlives love.

Dogs don’t forget their people.
They wait.

And now, Teddy is waiting—not just for his body to fully heal, but for a world that still believes a senior dog deserves to be loved.