🐶 The Weight of a Bark

The wind tugged at the girl’s t-shirt as she stood on the edge of a bridge a stone’s throw from her apartment building. Her hands slick with sweat, she took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to let go. Life would be better for everyone if she could just let go.

A soft whimper broke the silence, followed by an ear-piercing barrage of four barks.

The girl looked down. There, at her feet, was her tiny mini dachshund. His big brown eyes stared up at her, filled with a kind of sadness she hadn’t noticed when they left for their walk. He tilted his head, as if to ask “Why?” before trying to pull her away from the edge. He barked again through a mouthful of denim and pulled even harder.

She knelt down slowly, warm tears spilling down her cheeks and landing in the soft fur of his back. He nudged her hand with his nose, his tail wagging gently, as if he believed she had the power to fix things just by petting him.

The girl scooped him into her arms, his warm little body trembling against her chest as he covered her face in kisses. In that moment, it was like the weight of the world shifted—just a little—enough for her to breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed into his fur, stepping back from the edge.

He gave a soft bark, a sound full of life and hope. Maybe for today, that was enough.