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“Today my dog is sick.”
Just six words—but they feel heavier than stone.

This is the soul who once chased butterflies across summer fields, who greeted me every evening with a tail wag that erased the day’s burdens, who curled against me on nights when the world felt too cold. His loyalty has been the rhythm of my life, his love the quiet anchor that kept me steady.

And now, he lies in silence.
The tubes run like fragile lifelines, the bandages hide wounds I cannot heal, and his tired eyes whisper of battles being fought deep inside his body. But even in weakness, his gaze still seeks mine—steady, trusting, unshaken.

I remember the countless times he stood by me:
When grief knocked me down, he pressed his head against my hand.
When laughter filled the room, he spun in joyful circles as if he understood every joke.
When loneliness came, he was the heartbeat beside me reminding me I was never truly alone.

Now the roles have changed. It is my turn to stay. My turn to sit at his side through the night, to stroke his fur even when it feels thinner, to whisper promises through tears: “You’re not alone. You are loved. We are still together.”

Hope becomes both a prayer and a plea. I find myself bargaining with time—just one more sunrise walk, one more slow wag of his tail, one more afternoon where he lifts his face into the sun and closes his eyes as if to say, “This is enough.”

Today, more than ever, I realize love is not only in the joy we share but in the pain we are willing to carry for each other. His courage teaches me that true love is not about how long we have, but how deeply we hold on.

So please, if you read these words, send him a prayer. Wrap him in your wishes, your kindness, your light. He has given this world nothing but love—now he needs all of ours in return. 🙏❤️🐶

No matter what tomorrow brings, he will always be my best friend, my family, my heart. 🌈✨