The Garage Christmas: A Father, a Son, and the Dog Who Stayed

softer:

“How’s the dog?” Ryan asked.

I looked toward the living room.

Buster was awake now, watching me.

His tail thumped once—weak, but present.

“He’s here,” I said. “He’s tired.”

Ryan’s voice tightened.

“Dad… I didn’t mean for him to be scared.”

“You did, though,” I said. “Maybe not on purpose, but you did.”

A shuffling sound on Ryan’s end, like he covered continue reading …