Every Sunday, at the same hour, he walks the same path.
The woman no longer opens the door.
The voice that used to call his name is gone.
The leash no longer hangs by the hallway.
But the dog still remembers.
He stops at the same place.
Sits quietly.
Waits.
Because dogs don’t understand death the way we do.
They don’t understand graves, funerals, or final goodbyes.
They only understand love.
And love, to them, doesn’t end just because someone is gone.
So week after week, he returns.
Not because he’s lost…
but because loyalty doesn’t know how to stop.
