The physicians permitted the dog to enter the room to say farewell to his owner; a few hours later, the nurse stepped in and screamed in horror.  The palliative care room was silent. Only the heart monitor generated periodic, feeble beeps that were scarcely discernible, like the 82-year-old man’s last breath. He’d known his diagnosis for a long time: extensive metastases with irreversible alterations.

The physicians were honest: he only had a few days, if not hours, left. But it wasn’t the fear of death that kept him back; it was the sorrow of separation. Every day, he would stare out the window and whisper: – Ritchie… Where are you, little one…? Ritchie was an old, scruffy, but loyal dog, which he had found as a puppy by the highway. After nearly 15 years together, they had lost everything but one other: his wife, son, home, and friends.

That day, as the nurse walked in to change the IV, the old guy abruptly grasped her hand: — Kindly… Let’s see Ritchie… He is alone. I can’t leave without hugging him one final time. The nurse became pale. Animals were not allowed in the patient rooms. But something stirred in her heart. She went to the chief physician. He gazed at her as if she were nuts.

— This is a hospital. But, if this is his ultimate request… Two hours later, a gentle bark was heard at the hospital’s entrance. A thin dog with a graying snout waited there. The nurse opened the door to the room, and Ritchie leaped right onto the bed. He softly placed himself on his owner’s chest, placing his head on his shoulder. A man whispered:

— I apologize. I apologize for not being there for you. My little one. Thank you! He grieved, patted the dog, and kissed his forehead. And Ritchie moaned faintly, as if to say, “I am here. I am with you. “Until the end.” They lay like this for several hours. The nurse chose not to bother them and left the room. When she returned later and opened the door, she screamed with horror. When the nurse returned to the room in the evening, she halted at the doorway, breathless.

They were still lying there, just as before. But the monitor had gone silent. The old man died… Ritchie, however, lay in his arms, nose nestled into his neck. The dog’s heart could not withstand the separation. The last ones who still had each other departed together. In silence. In love. In loyalty.