At 91, Burt shuffled down the familiar path to church, his cane tapping along the sidewalk. The morning fog wrapped the street in gray when a faint whimper from a cardboard box caught his ear.
Inside the box, a small black-and-white puppy trembled, a note attached: “Take care of him!”
Burt’s heart softened. After losing his wife and son, loneliness had been his constant companion, but this puppy filled an empty space. He named it Sebastian, the name his late wife Martha had chosen for their second child.
Sebastian quickly became Burt’s constant joy. The dog’s daily routines—bringing slippers and sitting with Burt at tea—brought new life to the old man’s quiet home.
But one October day, Sebastian went missing after becoming agitated by barking strays. Burt searched desperately, but the dog was gone. Days passed with no word, and Burt’s grief deepened.
When a neighbor told Burt of a dead dog on the highway, he feared the worst. But it wasn’t Sebastian. Heartbroken, Burt continued his search, even posting reward flyers offering only his famous pot roast.
A young officer, Charlie, showed compassion when others dismissed Burt’s pleas. Weeks later, Charlie called to say he’d heard barking near an abandoned well. Burt rushed there, and after a tense rescue, Sebastian was pulled out, muddy but alive.
Sebastian raced to Burt, wagging his tail furiously. The reunion brought tears, and the crowd that had gathered witnessed a bond of love and devotion.
Later, Burt invited the community to dinner, a promise he’d made when posting flyers. His home, once silent, now echoed with laughter, love, and the joy of family—both human and canine.
As the night ended, Burt reflected on the note in the box: “Take care of him.” In the end, Sebastian had been the one taking care of Burt all along.
Leave a Reply