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

closer and crouched beside him.

His hand hovered over Buster’s head like he was afraid of doing it wrong.

“Is it okay?” Ryan asked me, voice trembling.

I nodded.

Ryan placed his palm on Buster’s fur.

Buster sighed—a long, deep sound that hit me like a hymn.

Ryan’s face crumpled.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the dog. “I’m sorry I treated you like… like dirt continue reading …