I've told this story before on the forum, so I'll keep it short. Basically my first love was with a neighbor's neglected dog. They saw her as more of a lawn ornament than a living creature with thoughts and feelings. They basically gave her the bare minimum that was considered "legal" in my state before it was considered neglect. This isn't much either. A plastic dog house, a 10 foot leash (which is allowed to be tied permanently to a tree), and evidence that the owners had food for her. (Although they often forgot to feed her and give her water.)
They'd let this girl run around the neighborhood a few times a week. Eventually I was able to befriend her and gain her trust. She showed plenty of signs of neglect and abuse. (If I went to pet her too quickly she'd often cower in fear, as an example.) But when she came to visit me I made sure she was fed, I made sure she had water, and I damn well made sure she knew what it felt like to be loved. We spent hours together cuddled up in my car just embracing each other. Her owners would rather kick her in the chest when she begged for attention rather than show her a kind hand of love. She was really a kind and sweet dog and it didn't take long for me to fall for her. Once she was allowed to let her personality shine she really did shine. It didn't take too long for her to prefer me over her actual "owners."
Were we sexual with each other, yeah, sometimes. But to me that wasn't important. What was important was showing her that at least someone in the world gave a damn about her. Something she very much reciprocated. The story could get more in depth from here, there was a lot of terrible abusive trauma the neighbors put her through. But I'll skip to the end. Eventually someone I never met rescued her (technically illegally) and she was later adopted, hopefully to someone that gave her a better life than her former owners. I did what I could to bring her happiness.