The months that followed were the hardest of our lives. Chemotherapy, endless hospital visits, and nights spent on uncomfortable chairs by her bed. Watching her hair thin, her cheeks lose their baby plumpness. Trying to explain in toddler terms why she had to endure needles and medicine that made her sick.
And through it all, there was Jasper.
Mr. Caldwell, bless him, opened his barn anytime we needed it. On good days, when Lila had the strength, we’d visit Jasper. Even on her weakest days, he seemed to know just how to behave. He’d lower his great head so she could stroke him without much effort. He stood guard while she rested in the straw. His steady breathing, the warmth of his body—it was as if he carried some of her burden for her.Continue reading…
