After losing his wife and son, 91-year-old Bert stopped believing in miracles. But everything changed when he came across a puppy abandoned in a cardboard box. Two years later, when the same dog disappeared, the search led Bert to a miracle he could never have imagined.
The autumn wind rustled through the leaves as Bert slowly made his way along the familiar path to church, his worn cane tapping on the pavement. At 91, he took each step with caution, and each breath reminded him of his long life… mostly a lonely one.
The morning mist enveloped the streets in a pearly grey veil when a faint sound caught his attention. A plaintive squeak, barely audible, came from a rain-soaked cardboard box by the roadside.
His arthritic knees protested as he bent down to look inside. A tiny black and white puppy was trembling in the box, its huge eyes pleading for help. A crumpled note was taped to the lid of the box: ‘Please take care of him!’
The old man’s heart, hardened by decades of loneliness after the death of his wife Martha and son James in a terrible car accident, softened at the sight of the helpless creature.
‘Well,’ he whispered, ‘I guess God works in ways we don’t understand.’
Bert carefully picked up the puppy with trembling hands, wrapped it in his coat, and went home. The church could wait… this tiny angel needed him more.
He named the puppy Sebastian — that was what Martha had always wanted to name their second child, but fate had decided otherwise.
Something in the puppy’s kind eyes reminded Bertha of Martha’s gentle heart, and the name seemed to settle naturally on her soul.
‘I hope you’ll love me, little one!’ he said, and the puppy wagged its tiny tail.
From the very first day, Sebastian filled Bert’s house with unexpected joy and lively barking.
Sebastian grew into a beautiful dog with a white star-shaped patch on his chest. He brought Bert his slippers in the morning and sat next to him during afternoon tea, as if he knew that the old man needed his company.
For two years, they were inseparable. Sebastian became the reason Bert got out of bed every morning, went outside, and started smiling again. Their evening walks became a familiar part of neighbourhood life — the stooped figure of the old man and his faithful dog, moving slowly but happily through the twilight streets.
And then came that terrible Thursday in October.
Sebastian was restless all day, his ears constantly twitching as if he could hear something. It was particularly noisy in the neighbourhood that day — stray dogs had gathered in the old park near the school. Bert later learned that there was a female dog in heat, which had attracted all the local dogs.
Sebastian kept reaching for the window, whimpering plaintively and fidgeting nervously by the door.
‘Calm down, buddy,’ Bert said gently, reaching for the leash. ‘We’ll go for a walk after lunch.’
But Sebastian’s anxiety only grew. When Bert let him out into the fenced yard, as he always did, the dog immediately rushed to the far corner and froze, listening to the distant barking. The old man went inside to prepare lunch, but when he called Sebastian fifteen minutes later, there was no response.
The gate was ajar. There was a letter in the postbox. But Sebastian was nowhere to be found. Had the postman left it open? Panic gripped Bert’s chest as he rushed to search the yard, calling louder and louder for his beloved dog.
Hours turned into days. Bert hardly ate or slept, sitting on the porch with Sebastian’s collar in his hands. The nights were the hardest. The silence he had once been accustomed to now felt like a gaping wound, bleeding with every tick of the old clock.
When his neighbour Tom came running with the news of a dog being hit on the motorway, Bert’s legs gave way. His heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
The relief that it wasn’t Sebastian was immediately replaced by guilt. He couldn’t leave the dead dog without saying goodbye, so he buried him and said a prayer.
Two weeks passed, and hope was fading. The pain in his joints intensified, perhaps from the long search, or perhaps from the returning heaviness of loneliness.
And then, in the silence, the phone rang.
It was Officer Charlie. His voice sounded excited.
‘Mr Bert, I’m off duty, but I was in the woods near Miller’s old farm. I heard barking from below… I think there’s an abandoned well there. I think you should come and take a look.’
Bert’s hands trembled as he grabbed his cane. He ran to his neighbour Tom, begging him to take him to the forest. Charlie was already waiting there with ropes and lanterns.
‘He’s there, Mr Bert. I saw a white star on his chest when I shone the light down.’
‘Sebastian!’ Bert cried out. ‘My boy, can you hear me? Give me a sign! Please!’
A familiar bark came from the depths of the well.
The fire brigade arrived an hour later. One of them climbed down, and soon there was a jubilant roar from the crowd.
When Sebastian was pulled out, he was dirty and thin, but alive. As soon as he was released, he rushed towards Bert, knocking him to the ground.
‘My boy,’ the old man sobbed, clutching his dirty fur. ‘You scared me.’
The crowd applauded, and an elderly woman wiped away her tears.
‘I saw him walking down the street for two weeks, calling his dog until he lost his voice… That’s true love.’
Charlie helped Bert up.
‘Let’s take him home,’ he said.
The next evening, Bert’s house was filled with people. He cooked his signature stew, and Sebastian moved from one guest to another, but always returned to the old man’s feet.
Later, Bert sat down in an armchair, and Sebastian curled up at his feet. The wind outside the window sounded like a soft whisper.
‘Martha always said that family finds each other, no matter what path fate takes,’ Bert murmured.
Sebastian wagged his tail in agreement.
That night, both the man and his dog slept peacefully, knowing that they were now together forever.
