While scrolling through my phone, I stumbled upon a help post. [I only have 5 days left to live. How should I say goodbye to my owner so she won't be sad?] [Should I pretend to run away and die secretly somewhere else?] The comments section was full of dog avatars. [This doggo thinks that's a bad idea. Your owner will feel guilty forever.] [Yeah, I accidentally got lost once, and my owner looked for me for half a month. She even quit her job. What if your owner does the same?] [Sigh, if only we could talk to humans. We could just ask them how they prefer to say goodbye.] I froze. I commented: [If I were the owner, I would want to receive a ball made of my fur baby's own fur. That way, when I miss him in the future, I can look at it, touch it, and have something to hold onto.] The original poster quickly thanked me. [That's a great idea! But I don't have much time left, so I can't save up naturally shed fur. I'll just have to pluck all the fur from my tail.] Not long after, my dog jumped onto my bed, carrying a fur ball the exact same color as him in his mouth. When I saw his bare, bald tail, I froze. 1. [OP, are you very sick? Why do you only have 5 days left?] [If you're in pain, just whimper constantly or stop eating. Humans will notice and take you to the vet.] The original poster (OP) replied: [I'm not sick. I'm just too old. Dying of old age.] A user with a Golden Retriever avatar advised: [I still suggest you tell your owner. Let her be mentally prepared.] [You've lived such a long life; your owner must care about you deeply. If you die suddenly, she definitely won't be able to accept it.] OP posted a sad emoji. [But I want Mom to cry less.] [I'm also very scared. After I die, Mom won't be able to handle the blow and will die with me.] As soon as this was said, the comments section exploded. [Stop bragging. Your owner dying with you? I've lived seven or eight years and never seen a human die for a pet.] [Exactly. You think you're so special. Just lying because humans can't reach you here, right?] The comments got more aggressive. But the OP replied to each one with a good temper. [I'm not lying. Mom was very sick before. When she got sick, she would always hug me and say if I wasn't here, she wouldn't live either.] [So I exercised every day and ate lots of food just to live a few more years to accompany Mom. But I'm really too old now.] He posted a crying emoji. [I really hope Mom can live on happily.] 2. When I was reading this post, my best friend Sarah and I had just finished picking out a pet villa. Driving, Sarah said, "Lucky choosing you as his owner in this life is simply the greatest happiness a dog could have." "A luxury pet playhouse for $2,000 a day, and you rented it without blinking. How many dogs get to live such a luxurious life?" I smiled. "Last time he saw dogs playing there on TV, he was so excited. I thought, if other dogs have it, my dog must have it too." "Though it does hurt my wallet a bit. Two months' salary gone." Sarah rolled her eyes at me. "Stop pretending. Give you another chance, and you'd pay the deposit without hesitation." The scenery outside the window blurred past. She sighed, "Time flies. In the blink of an eye, Lucky is almost 14." I nodded in agreement. But my gaze was drawn back to the post where the OP asked: [Should I pretend to run away and die secretly? Would that make Mom feel better?] For some reason, I suddenly thought of Lucky at home, with his white muzzle. 3. So I commented: "I don't suggest doing that. The owner will be heartbroken." "I have a dog myself. If the day comes for him to pass away, I hope he can pass peacefully in my arms, not die pitifully in a place I can't see." I paused, then added another comment. "If you really want to make your owner less sad, why not make a felt ball out of your fur and give it to her? That way, when she misses you in the future, she can look at it, touch it, and remember you." As soon as I posted this... Users with different dog avatars all sent me question marks. Only then did I realize that everyone was commenting from the perspective of small animals, while I was using a human perspective. Just as I wanted to delete and repost. The OP replied to me: [That's a great idea! I'll go make one for my Mom right now.] [But I don't have time to collect shed fur. I'll have to pluck the fur from my tail.] 4. He sent a string of four or five happy emojis. After replying with a "Good luck," I opened the group chat for dog owners who often played with Lucky. I invited them to bring their fur babies to Lucky's birthday party in 5 days. The group cheered. But my thoughts were pulled by that help post. I refreshed the post from time to time, wanting to see how the OP was doing. Maybe because I also had an old dog at home, even though I knew a person likely wrote the post, I couldn't help but project it onto my own dog. Sarah laughed loudly. "Except for his age, what part of your Lucky is like an old dog?" "When he goes out to play, he runs faster than a two-year-old puppy. Energetic as a bull calf. Don't overthink it." I was amused by her string of adjectives. Thinking, yeah. Lucky eats well and drinks well. When I asked him a few days ago how long he could still accompany me, he chose the "10 years" card. Dogs don't lie. Endless warmth surged in my heart. Clutching the new toy I bought for him, I wished I could fly home immediately. 5. But when I opened the door. And saw Lucky holding a fur ball in his mouth, offering it to my hand like a treasure... My whole body froze. Why was his tail bald? At the same time, my phone buzzed. It was the OP sending me feedback. [Sorry, my owner doesn't seem to like the fur ball very much. Usually, when I bring her toys, she kisses me and praises me. But today she's motionless, and her expression is weird.] A Tibetan Mastiff avatar replied first: [I bet you were afraid of pain and didn't dare to pluck the fur!] The OP got anxious and threw a picture into the thread. [Look! Is that my fur in my Mom's hand or not?!] [I'm about to die, would I be afraid of a little pain?!] When I saw the content of the picture clearly. I could hardly breathe. In the picture, a black fur ball the size of a ping pong ball rested on a palm. But what caught my attention... Was the small red mole on that palm. I shifted my gaze to my own palm. The bald tail, the identical fur ball. If these were coincidences. Then what about this red mole? 6. My heart felt like it was gripped by an invisible hand. I immediately clicked on the OP's profile. [Bit an old man today. Mom was very angry. But I only bit him because I saw him taking photos up Mom's skirt with his phone. Mom blamed me wrongly.] [Grandma and Grandpa passed away. Although they treated Mom badly, Mom is still very sad, crying secretly every night. When I find her, she cries even louder, saying she only has me left, asking me to accompany her forever. But I'm getting very old too, sigh...] Reading this. I reflexively checked the date. June 28, 2024. My parents died in a car accident that month. I checked the date of the biting incident. October 2, 2024. And last October, Lucky indeed bit someone. I paid $300 in compensation. My hands trembled uncontrollably. Before I could verify further. The OP sent me a private message. [Hello, my name is Lucky.] [Excuse me, are you a human?] Seeming afraid I would find him rude. He added another sentence. [This is a forum specifically for dogs. Usually, it's dogs talking, but I feel your way of speaking is different from us.] [So I took the liberty to ask you.] [If it's inconvenient, you don't have to reply.] My eyes stung with tears. With trembling hands, I asked: [Why are you named Lucky?] The other side said: [Because when Mom found me, I had a broken leg. She hoped that even with three legs, I would be lucky and happy.] Tears smashed onto the screen instantly. Unwilling to give up, I sent another command. [Go pick up your favorite toy for your Mom right now.] After sending this sentence. I immediately looked at Lucky. I saw him tilt his head in thought. Then, he turned and ran toward his favorite yellow duck plushie. Watching him run toward me with a smile on his face, missing a hind leg. The last nerve supporting me collapsed completely. 7. I picked up Lucky on the road when I was suicidal after failing my college entrance exams. It was raining heavily that day, visibility was terrible. But just as I stepped onto the bridge. I saw a middle-aged man holding a knife, crazily stabbing the hind leg of a puppy. Lucky, back then, was only the size of a palm. One stab, and the tendon in his leg was severed. I never considered myself an animal lover. But in that moment. Watching Lucky tremble in pain, too scared to even yelp. The thought that I must save him burst out of me. So I spent the last $400 I had on me to buy him and took him to the vet. At that time, I had severe depression. When emotions hit, I would somatize, lying on the floor unable to move. Thinking of ending my life constantly. But every time I struggled to crawl to the kitchen and picked up a knife. I would hear Lucky's sharp, miserable cry right on time. As if reminding me there was still a living creature in the house waiting for milk. Lucky was so small then. The bottle nipple was almost as big as his head. I didn't delusionally think he would survive. I just felt that since I brought him back, I would raise him until I couldn't anymore. So under his constant urging. I had to put down the thing in my hand and crawl over to feed him. But against all odds, he lived. Not only could he walk, but he was also particularly good at reading my emotions. Whenever I was down, or my parents called to berate me. He would wobble over to me and butt my head with his little milky head. Then make some laughable expressions.
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