It was just another day outside the station when I noticed a boy, around eight or nine, watching me and my K9 partner, Koda. He wore a worn-out t-shirt and shorts, his eyes filled with hesitation.
“You wanna say hi?” I asked. He hesitated, then stepped forward. Koda wagged his tail as the boy gently touched his fur before suddenly hugging him, crying.
“He looks like my dad’s dog… before he left,” he whispered.
His words hit hard. His father had promised they’d always have their dog, Max, but then stopped coming home. Now, Max was gone too. The boy felt abandoned.
I walked him home, and his mom thanked me, embarrassed. Over time, we visited often. His mom found support, and they slowly healed.
Months later, I received a letter—Eli’s dad had reached out. For the first time, Eli had hope. Small kindnesses can change everything.
