Lily walked over and stood quietly beside the wheelchair, placing her small hand gently on Arthur’s shaking shoulder.
For two full hours, nobody moved. We just stood guard and let a broken man say a proper, dignified goodbye to his best friend.
Arthur passed away peacefully in his sleep three days later. The nurses called to tell me he had a faint smile on his face at the end.
I officially adopted Buster the very next morning. He didn’t have to wait in the freezing woods ever again.
As we stood on the porch watching him peacefully graze in the front pasture that evening, Lily grabbed my hand.
She looked up at me, and for the first time in eight long months, my daughter finally spoke.
“He’s a good boy, Dad,” she whispered
