I wasn’t supposed to be on that train. The night before, I’d stood outside my ex’s apartment in the freezing cold, desperately trying to salvage what was left of us. But some things can’t be fixed, no matter how hard you try. By dawn, I found myself at the train station with no destination in mind – I just needed to escape the pain.
That’s when I met Buddy. A golden retriever with eyes that seemed to understand everything without me saying a word. He walked right up to me at the platform and rested his head on my knee, something his owner Sam said he never did. In that moment, something shifted.
When Sam invited me to join them at their lakeside cabin, something told me to say yes. That weekend changed everything. Walking through misty forests with Buddy by my side, sitting by the fire sharing my story – it was the first time in months I felt like myself again.
Back home, I started volunteering at Buddy’s shelter. Those quiet moments caring for animals became my therapy. Buddy wasn’t just a dog – he was the gentle guide who showed me how to find my way back to myself.
