The Last Hug — And the Goodbye That Love Had to Give

Not every love story lasts forever. But some are deep enough to know when to say goodbye.

I’m a little beagle, and my dad was my world. We shared walks, snuggles, lazy Sundays—and a bond that only grew stronger with time.

Last Sunday, we had a little party. People laughed, and I tried to smile too. But something inside felt wrong. That night, I had a fever. Even with dad’s warmth, I kept getting weaker.

By Tuesday, I couldn’t walk straight.

Dad took me to the vet, clutching hope. But the blood test spoke louder than hope ever could.

“You’re not happy anymore, are you?” he whispered.
I buried my face into his coat. I didn’t need words. He understood.

It was quiet.

The vet stepped out. Just dad and me now.

He wrapped me in my favorite blanket. His voice trembled, but his arms never did.

“I’m sorry I can’t fix this, buddy. But I won’t let you hurt anymore.”

He held me tighter than ever. I felt his heartbeat. I heard his sobs. But I also felt peace.

And then… I closed my eyes.

No more pain. No more fear. Just his arms. His scent. His love—carrying me gently into forever.

Today, my collar rests in his hands. A reminder that I lived, that I mattered.

Dad promised he’ll open his heart to another beagle someday—not to replace me, but to continue the love we built.

If I could say one last thing, it would be this:
Thank you, Dad… for loving me all the way to the end.