My Great-Aunt, Who Never Owned a Pet, Calls Her Canine Visitor “Colonel”
She’s 97. Sharp as ever, stuck in that wheelchair after the fall. We visit once a week, perhaps twice. But lately, it’s not us she’s been waiting for—it’s the dog. He’s not part of the facility’s therapy program. No vest, no handler. He appears at 3:40 p.m. precisely, sits by her door like he owns…
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