MY MOM SOLD MY DOG TO ANOTHER WOMAN.
I’m 14. My 5-year-old Akita was my whole world — my best friend, my protector, my shadow. She loved me like no one else did. But my family never saw her the way I did.

“She’s too big. Too scary. We need a smaller dog.” My mom’s mind was made up. I had no say.
A week later, a stranger came to take her away. My chest tightened as I led my dog to the car, her trusting eyes searching mine. She didn’t know. She thought we were going on an adventure.

While my mom and the lady talked inside, I climbed into the backseat, holding onto the last moments I had. I fed her boiled chicken, her favorite. My hands shook as I stroked her soft fur through the crate bars, whispering, “It’s okay. You’re a good girl. The best girl.”

Her tail wagged. She still trusted me. Then, the door shut. The engine started. And she was gone.
I stood there, frozen, as her silhouette faded down the street. The house felt emptier. My arms felt lighter. My heart felt broken.

MAYBE I COULD HAVE PREVENTED THIS?!