The doctors allowed the dog to enter the room to say goodbye to his owner – a few hours later, the nurse walked in and screamed in horror

Ritchie was his dog—a scruffy, aging mutt with more silver than brown in his coat. Fifteen years earlier, the man had found him trembling by the side of a road and brought him home. From that day forward, they were inseparable. Together, they had buried a wife, mourned a son, and outlived almost everyone dear to them. Ritchie had become his comfort, his routine, his reason to keep moving each day.

That afternoon, when the nurse stepped in to check his vitals, he unexpectedly grabbed her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “Please,” he whispered, eyes wet. “I need to see Ritchie. I can’t go without saying goodbye.”

She froze. Animals weren’t allowed—policy, infection protocols, rules that didn’t bend. But something in his voice dissolved her hesitation.

“I’ll do what I can,” she promised softly.

Continue reading…