“I know a little girl is praying for a miracle. That’s enough.”
The surgery took four hours. I waited in the lobby, reading that purple crayon note over and over. Madison had drawn pictures on the back. Stick figures. A girl, a dog, and an angel with a motorcycle.
“How long?”
“Maybe six months. Maybe a year. Maybe longer if we’re lucky.”
“That’s six months to a year more than she had.”
“You spending four grand on a stranger’s dog for maybe six months?”
“I’m spending four grand on a little girl’s hope.”
Daisy recovered slowly. I brought her home. Set up a bed in my living room. She couldn’t walk much at first. But every day, a little stronger. Every day, that tail wagging a little harder.
Now I had to find Madison.Continue reading…
