He Drew Our Rescue Dog as Family—And the School Tried to Erase Him

a little heavier.

His muzzle grayer by the week.

The way his back legs sometimes trembled when he stood too fast.

“He’s older,” I said quietly.

Mrs. Gable’s eyes softened.

“They never stay long enough,” she whispered.

“No,” I agreed. “They don’t.”

Outside, the night air was cold and clean.

I got into my car and sat for a minute before turning the key.

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