I don’t understand why she stopped moving. At first, I thought she was asleep. I went over, sniffed her, nudged her with my muzzle. But she didn’t respond. She didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t lick my head like she always did when she was scared. She was just there, still, cold, drifting farther and farther away from me.
I stayed by her side. Not because I knew what to do, but because I didn’t know where to go. She was all I had. All I knew. Her body, even though she no longer breathed, was still my refuge. I snuggled up to her, searching for the warmth that was gone. But I didn’t move. I didn’t leave. Because that’s what puppies do: they stay
The days passed. The smell changed. The air grew heavy. Her body dried out, stiffened. But I was still there. With an empty stomach, trembling paws, open eyes waiting for something to happen. For someone to come. For the world to realize I was still alive.
But no one came.
I heard footsteps. Voices. Distant noises. But no one approached. No one looked. No one asked about us. No one stopped to think that, in this forgotten corner, there was a puppy waiting for its mother to breathe again.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t bark. I just waited. Because that’s what puppies do: they wait.
They wait for love not to end. For death not to be final. For abandonment not to be real
My body began to give out. My ribs stood out. My skin clung to my bones. The hunger hurt, but the silence hurt more. The absence hurt more. It hurt more to know that the last heartbeat I heard was hers, and that since then, the world had gone mute.
Sometimes I dreamed. I dreamed that she got up, that she licked me, that she told me everything was alright. I dreamed that we ran together, that the sun warmed us, that there was food, water, life. But I woke up, and the smell of death was still there. And her body still wasn’t moving.
And I stayed lying down.
Not because I couldn’t leave, but because I didn’t want to. Because leaving meant accepting that she wouldn’t come back. That I was alone. That the love she gave me had left without saying goodbye
And if anyone finds me, if anyone sees this scene, don’t think it’s just a puppy next to a dead body. See what it really is: a son who doesn’t know how to live without his mother. A heart that refuses to stop loving. A story no one told, but that deserves to be heard
Because I’m not here by chance. I’m here because love doesn’t rot as fast as the body. I’m here because, even though she no longer breathes, I still wait for her.
And that, that really hurts.