When a Scruffy Little Dog Refused to Let an Old Woman Disappear

can give him a couch and a food bowl and a hand to sleep against.”

“And here,” Sarah added, gesturing around, “he has an office, and coworkers, and a mission.”

Mike grinned. “Yeah, he’d be like our emotional support manager.”

Rachel studied my face.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “This isn’t just… grief talking?”

“It’s probably grief,” I admitted. “But it’s continue reading …