A Homeless Man Begged Me to Take His Dog—A Month Later, a Mysterious Letter Arrived
I was walking home one evening when I saw a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk, his frail hands stroking a scruffy little dog. As I passed, he called out to me.
“Please… take my dog,” he pleaded. His voice was hoarse, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I can’t care for him anymore, but he deserves better.”
I hesitated. I had never owned a pet before, but something about the way he looked at the dog—like he was saying goodbye—moved me.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Buddy,” the man whispered, tears brimming in his eyes.
I knelt down and extended my hand. Buddy licked my fingers, his tail wagging. I nodded. “I’ll take care of him.”
A month passed, and Buddy became my shadow, filling my home with warmth. One evening, as I checked my mail, I noticed an envelope with no return address. Inside was a handwritten letter:
“Dear Friend,
If you’re reading this, it means I’m no longer here. Thank you for taking in Buddy. He was my only family, and I wanted him to have a real home before I left this world.
I had nothing to give, but I gave you my best friend. And in return, you gave me peace in my final days.
With gratitude,
Tom”
Tears streamed down my face. I hugged Buddy tightly, realizing that in saving him, I had also been given a gift—a reminder that kindness, no matter how small, can change a life forever.
