More Than A Stray: How Our Dog Found Us, Changed Us, And Left Paw Prints In Our Hearts

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My daughter once had a Beagle, who sadly passed away in 2023, while my wife adores her Maltese. For us, a home has never felt complete without the pitter-patter of paws.

But in 2021, an unexpected visitor arrived — a quiet, black-furred stray who would change our lives in ways we never imagined.

Along with him was another brown-coloured dog, who I believe must have been his good buddy.

Stray dogs are a common sight in our neighbourhood, so at first, I didn't think much of it. But when they returned the next morning, something in the black dog's eyes caught my attention. From the way he looked, I knew he was hungry and in need of food.

Instinctively, I took some food (our Beagle's biscuits) and stepped outside. The moment he saw me, he ran. I understood his fear, so I placed the food on the ground and stepped away. Watching from the window, I saw both dogs hesitantly approach and eat.

Eventually, his companion disappeared, forcing him to come alone. Over time, he became comfortable with us, wagging his tail excitedly whenever he saw me bringing food.

Slowly, he became bolder. I started placing his meals inside our house compound. One day, he stepped inside without hesitation. And just like that, he became part of our family.

Despite whatever hardships he had endured before us, Blacky was gentle. He was never a naughty boy, never demanded anything — just waited patiently for his meals.

He was affectionate with our other dogs, though our Maltese, with its small but dominant nature, often tried to assert control over him. Blacky, in his humble way, never retaliated. Loud noises terrified him — thunderstorms, fireworks — but never once did he lash out.

Knowing the risks, we tried to manage it. He had a routine — 8pm before our dinner, 6am before I left for work. He always returned within an hour. Always.

Until early this year, when something about his behaviour changed. Blacky's routine grew unpredictable. Sometimes, he stayed out longer than usual, disappearing for days. When he returned, he walked with his head lowered as if he knew we'd be worried.

It was unlike him. And we couldn't help but feel uneasy.

The next morning, after my prayers, I found him at our gate — exhausted, weak, and injured. Blood dripped from his ear. A closer look revealed a wound near his neck. He had fought with another dog, I guess.

We immediately treated him, hoping he would recover with rest. He barely moved that day and refused to eat, likely due to pain.

The following morning, we rushed him to the vet. The doctor recommended anaesthesia to clean the wound. After the procedure, he was frail, unable to move. We spoon-fed him soft food, but he barely ate — just two spoonfuls and a little water.

Still, we hoped.

I rushed to him, cradling him in my lap as his eyes slowly closed. His breathing grew faint. Then, it stopped. Blacky was gone.

We couldn't accept it. A part of us clung to the hope of a miracle. But heaven had taken him home.

He showed us resilience — the strength to trust again despite hardship. Though he didn't have a long life, his spirit remains with us. We are grateful for every moment we shared, every tail wag, every weekend morning having breakfast together. He wasn't just a stray; he was a friend, a teacher, and a reminder of life's fleeting beauty.

Rest in peace, Blacky. You will always be in our hearts and prayers. We love you.