Ashleigh Berlin 
“That will be $3,000 for the surgery, or we can discuss putting him to sleep today,” the receptionist said to the crying girl. The waiting room went dead silent. I froze. My hand tightened on the leash of my own dog, Getty. The girl couldn’t be more than twenty. She was wearing a stained fast-food …
I checked the security camera to see if my dog was behaving, but the footage broke me into a million pieces. The notification buzzed against my wrist right in the middle of a quarterly budget review. “Motion Detected: Front Porch.” I sighed, sliding my phone under the conference table. I assumed Barnaby, my Golden Retriever …
Three families brought him back. Three times, the verdict was the same: “Aggressive.” “Unmanageable.” “Broken.” I stood in front of Cage 42 at the county shelter. The air smelled of bleach and lost hope. Inside, a large gray cat sat with his back to the glass, staring at the tiled wall like he was waiting …
I bared my teeth at a human child today. In the world of family dogs, that is the unforgivable sin—a one-way ticket to the pound. But looking at my boy trembling on the grass, I knew I’d do it again in a heartbeat. My name is Koda. I am one hundred and ten pounds of …
For six months, I looked an 84-year-old woman in the eye and lied to her face every single Thursday. I told her the system was broken. I told her the app had a “glitch.” I told her the algorithm was messing up and adding random items to orders that nobody paid for. It was the …
Part 1: The Reluctant Killer The blizzard blew open the clinic doors with violent force, revealing a shivering man holding a dying Golden Retriever, his first words a chilling command that silenced the busy waiting room: “Kill him now.” The veterinary clinic was already chaotic, filled with the smell of wet fur and anxious owners …
By the time I realized my father had put on his old dress uniform to have my dog put down, the vet was already drawing up the syringe. I thought I was only about to lose Ranger; I didn’t know one bark would rip my father out of a war he hadn’t left in fifty …
The bell above the door jingled, but no customer walked in. The diner went dead silent as we all looked down at the shivering, snow-covered terrier standing alone on the welcome mat. We all knew the dog. His name was Barnaby, a scruffy, wire-haired terrier mix that looked like a used scouring pad with a …
Part 1 — The Truck That Kept Coming Back Every Monday, an eighty-five-year-old doctor drives a rusted pickup through a town that’s already forgotten him—until his beagle in a toy stethoscope refuses to leave the seat, like it just made a diagnosis no one wants to hear. The gas station sign flickered half a digit …
I paid a homeless stranger to sit in my unlocked truck every Tuesday and Thursday for two months. I told him it was for my dog’s safety. I lied. It was the only way to save his life. My name is Leo, and I drive for a delivery app. My copilot is Barnaby, a Golden …
Part 1 – The Day the Words Betrayed Him On the morning Thomas Reed realized he could no longer read his own name, he was sitting alone in a private library that looked like a cathedral of paper, while his old Golden Retriever watched him fall apart in complete silence.By that afternoon, the man who …
Part 1 — The Car No One Was Allowed to Touch For twenty years, a tarp-covered ’67 fastback sat like a sealed grave in a grease-stained garage—no one could touch it, except an old dog who slept on the cracked leather seat. Tonight, a repo truck is coming early, and the only thing the forgetful …
Part 1 – The Last Customer On a gray Tuesday at eight in the morning, an eighty-year-old barber shaved his only remaining client. The customer was too old to stand and too quiet to complain – because his last loyal customer was a fourteen-year-old poodle. Frank Miller turned the key in the lock of The …
I’m divorcing my husband because he’s a “nice guy” who almost killed our dog. I’m not divorcing a villain; I’m firing an incompetent employee who refuses to learn the job. My name is Sarah, and for the last five years, I have been the uncompensated Project Manager of a chaotic startup called “Our Marriage.” My …
The splintered remains of my front door frame lay in a heap on the floor, right next to the thirty-dollar “Indestructible” chew toy that had lasted exactly forty-five minutes. I stood in the entryway, dropping my keys on the counter with a heavy clatter. My chest felt tight, a mix of exhaustion and a simmering, …