The mornings had grown quieter.Popo, once the first to bark for breakfast, now took longer to rise. His once-bright eyes seemed dimmer, his steps slower. Polly noticed how Terry would linger by his side, her hand resting on Popo’s back a little longer than usual.“Good morning, my good boy,” Terry would whisper. Her voice carried a softness Polly couldn’t quite understand, but he felt it — like a tremble beneath the calm.Popo still wagged his tail, but it was slower now, gentler, as if every motion had to be borrowed from the past. Polly watched from the corner of his crate, his heart unsure of what he was seeing. Popo had always been strong — the wise one, the patient one. He was the one who let Polly share his crate, the one who never snapped when food was scarce, the one who stood between him and Bantay when they used to argue over bones.But now, Popo slept more than he barked. Sometimes, he coughed. Other times, he stared at nothing, as though remembering something far away.Te
Last Updated : 2025-10-12 Read more