The sun beats down on the dusty streets of Quezon City as a small brown blur comes zipping around the corner – a dog moving with such joyful determination that it takes a moment to realize she’s running on just two legs. This is Putol, whose name might mean “chopped” in Tagalog, but whose spirit remains gloriously unbroken.
When Danilo first saw the tiny puppy six years ago, his heart sank. While her siblings found homes, no one wanted the two-legged runt. “They didn’t think she’d survive,” he recalls, still indignant at the memory. But where others saw limitation, Danilo saw potential. Those early days were tough –
Putol dragged herself painfully across floors, her chest rubbed raw. Yet gradually, miraculously, she learned to balance on her front legs, developing muscles most dogs never use until she could hop like a kangaroo.
Now, Putol rules the neighborhood with cheerful authority. She guards Danilo’s home with surprisingly loud barks, chases after motorbikes (and sometimes catches them), and has perfected the art of begging for scraps at the local eateries. Her disability? Just a footnote to her vibrant personality.
The same community that once pitied her now celebrates her – kids call her name as she bounces past, shopkeepers save her favorite treats, and yes, even the stray dogs give this two-legged wonder respect.
Danilo laughs when asked about her name. “It’s not cruel – it’s honest,” he says, scratching behind Putol’s ears. “She knows she’s different. And she knows that’s what makes her special.” As if on cue, Putol gives an enthusiastic yip and takes off down the street, her powerful front legs propelling her faster than many four-legged dogs can run – living proof that what matters isn’t how many legs you have, but how much heart.