The moment I walked into the shelter and saw him, a 4-month-old Great Pyrenees missing an eye and a paw, I knew he was meant to be mine. At that time, I was drowning in the deepest abyss of my life. The tragic loss of my parents in a car accident had left me so shattered that I had attempted to end my suffering twice. Choosing him wasn’t just adopting a dog; it felt like a pact between two souls, each missing parts yet together, complete. I named him Frankie, and from that day, we became inseparable.

Frankie wasn’t just a pet; he was my savior, my anchor in a storm that seemed endless. He filled the void my parents’ departure had created with his unconditional love and unwavering loyalty. Knowing his presence was a constant in my life, I installed cameras in my home to stay connected with him, ensuring he had food and water if my work kept me late.