I’m homeless, but not because I want to be—every place that offers me a bed tells me, “You can’t bring your dog.” My name is Daniel, and Rafi has been with me long before I lost my home. I found him behind an unused building, scared and limping, and he’s been my only family ever since. When I no longer had work and my rent went up, I had nowhere left to go. I tried 6 shelters. Some said no because of insurance, some because of space, and one said I could stay only if Rafi went to a kennel across town. I knew he wouldn’t handle being separated. So I stay with him. We sleep under one blanket, share whatever food we get, and watch each other’s backs through the night. People think I’m choosing the streets. But really—I’m choosing the only soul who never left me
