was an old woman who was ill and stayed home most of the time
because she had COPD. She was on oxygen. Her closest friend was a little
white dog who went everywhere with her, even slept with her until of late. The dog
and the old lady were getting older and they both tossed a lot in their
sleep and were finding most nights more comfortable sleeping alone.
The faithful little white dog still slept close by until the little old
lady fell off
to sleep. Then the little white dog would wander into the living room and get into
the recliner or on the couch. Usually though, the little white dog slept on the floor
by the side of the little old lady, on a doggie pillow that she had made for her friend.
When she became frightened or had a nightmare, or an asthma attack or became short
of breath she would put her hand down to the little white dog and the little white dog
would lick it reassuringly.
One night the little old lady was reading her newspaper just before going
She shivered and pulled the comforter up around her as she read that a mental patient
had wandered off from a nearby hospital. No one knew if the patient was dangerous or
not; he was a suspect in the murders of several women who had lived alone.
The woman turned out the lights and tried to sleep, but she was frightened,
tossed and turned fitfully. Finally, she reached down to where the little white dog
slept. Sure enough, a warm, wet tongue began to lick her hand. The woman felt
reassured and safe, and left her hand dangling off the bed as she turned and settled
in comfortably. She opened her eyes for a moment and looked through the open door
into the living room.
There fast asleep in the recliner in front of the fireplace, was her little
And down beside the bed, something was still licking her hand
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