The son and his wife cast out their elderly father from his own home. The old man was nearly frozen when, suddenly, something gently brushed his face. As he opened his eyes, fear gripped him…
On that bitter autumn night, he could no longer feel his hands or feet. A light dusting of snow settled slowly over his shoulders, and the icy wind cut through his worn-out coat. He didnt know how long it had been since his sonwith whom he had shared that house for over forty yearshad shut the door in his face.
“Emily and I just dont have the space, and looking after you is such a burden. You understand, dont you, Dad?” his son had said, avoiding his fathers gaze.
“I understand,” the old man whispered, though every part of him ached with betrayal. He didnt understand. He couldnt fathom how his own son, the boy he had raised, the one he had given everything to, could say such a thing.
The day he left would be etched into his memory forever. A tattered bag with his few belongings, his grey head bowed in shame, tears he could barely hold back. He had nowhere to go. The neighbours averted their eyes, and the thought of a care home terrified him. The city, once familiar, now felt alien and cruel.
Sitting on an old park bench, he thought of his wife. How they had built that home together, raised their son, dreamed of the future. She used to say,
“When were old, well sit by the fire and remember our youth.”
But she wasnt here anymore. She had passed two years ago, and since then, his son and daughter-in-law had treated him like an unwanted burden.
As he closed his eyes, numbness crept through his limbs. His breathing slowed, his thoughts blurred. *Is this what dying feels like?* Then, suddenlya soft, warm touch against his cheek. He shuddered, eyes fluttering open. And there, before him, was an old stray dogone he had fed near his house for years. Her kind, loyal eyes watched him with concern. She licked his hand, whining softly, as if begging him to get up.
“You came, old girl?” he murmured, forcing a weak smile.
The dog wagged her tail and pressed against his frozen legs, as if trying to warm him. Tears streaked down the old mans face. No one else remembered him. No oneexcept this stray.
Struggling, he leaned on the bench and pulled himself up. The dog walked beside him, glancing back now and then, as if saying, *Follow me.*
“Where are we going, lass?” he asked, voice thick with sorrow.
She just wagged her tail and led him through empty streets. Minutes later, they reached an abandoned shed, once a storage place for tools. The dog nudged the door open with her nose.
Inside, the air smelled damp, but there was straw on the groundbetter than nothing. The old man slumped against the wall, pulled the dog close, and stroked her scruffy, familiar fur.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “At least you didnt leave me.”
He shut his eyes, the dogs warmth pressed against him. Memories faded, leaving only a fragile hopethat maybe, just maybe, God still saw him and hadnt given up.
The next morning, a passerby found the old man shivering beside the loyal dog on the sheds porch. She had kept him alive with her body through the night. An ambulance was called, and he was taken to hospital. When he woke, his first words were:
“Wheres my dog?”
The nurse smiled. “Shes waiting outside. Hasnt moved an inch.”
That day, the old man learned loyalty isnt bound by blood. Sometimes, those closest to you failwhile strangers, or even strays, become your truest friends.
He never returned home. His son sold the house soon after. The old man found shelter where he was cared for, but most importantly, his faithful dogthe one who had found him that freezing night, when he was ready to let gostayed by his side until the end.
