I’m not a hypochondriac. But when my vet hesitated on the phone and said, “Get checked—your dog might be sensing something,” I listened.
Bear, my loyal pup, had started acting strange—clingy, anxious, always watching me. It spooked me enough to visit urgent care.
Bloodwork, X-rays… and then: “We found something.”
A mass behind my sternum. Not yet a tumor, but serious. Early-stage lymphoma.
I started treatment immediately. It was brutal—fatigue, fear, tears. But Bear never left my side. Not once. When I finally heard “remission,” I didn’t celebrate. I came home, sat beside him, and whispered, “We did it.”
That brush with death changed me. I quit my job, sold my house, and hit the road with Bear in a van. We traveled the country, rediscovered joy, and even found love along the way.
Bear’s older now, slower, but still sleeps curled up beside me—my guardian, my reason I’m still here.
So if your dog starts acting differently, don’t ignore it. Sometimes, love doesn’t bark—it whispers. And sometimes, that whisper can save your life.
