When I walked into the orphanage and saw him – a young patu who was four months old, with one missing eye and one leg – I knew he was made for me. At that moment, I was at the bottom of my life. The tragic loss of my parents in a car accident had broken me so much that I had attempted suicide twice. Choosing him wasn’t just accepting a dog; it was making a pact between two souls, each incomplete, but together they became whole. I named him Frankie, and from that day forward we were inseparable.
Frankie was more than just a pet; he was my salvation, my anchor in an endless storm. He filled the void left by my parents’ passing with his unconditional love and devotion. Knowing that his presence would always be in my life, I set up cameras at home to keep in touch with him and make sure he always had food and water if my work kept me busy.
He loved treats, belly rubs and any form of affection, becoming the centre of my world. To me, Frankie was more than just a dog; he was the most important creature on Earth.
When I met my girlfriend Leslie, I immediately told her about Frankie and our special bond. She seemed to understand, and over the three years we spent together, she and Frankie developed a trusting relationship. Things were going well until we started talking about moving in together.
One evening, while looking at adverts for houses that could be our future – with kids, pool and workspaces – I joked that Frankie would be our training baby. She laughed and then, to my surprise, seriously stated that Frankie couldn’t come with us. I thought she was joking, but her emotionless face left no doubt.
The argument that followed lasted several hours. I remained firm, refusing to back down from my decision about Frankie’s place in my life. ‘My dog saved me, he will come with me no matter what,’ I insisted, emphasising that I would never abandon him. She left in anger and for two days there was silence between us.
Her absence saddened me greatly, but my resolve remained unwavering. Frankie was my rock, my furry angel who guided me through my darkest days. The thought of breaking up with him for a relationship was impossible for me. He was more than a dog, he was a part of me, a symbol of my resilience and rebirth.
I realised that any future relationship would have to include Frankie, not as a mere addition, but as a pillar of my life. My bond with him was unwavering, a testament to our journey together, from suffering to healing. I hoped that my girlfriend would realise this, that she would see Frankie not as an obstacle to our future, but as an element that is the foundation of who I am.
Waiting for her call, I spent my days with Frankie, each moment reinforcing my decision. When we played in the garden, spent quiet moments on the sofa or went for walks, I remembered how much we had overcome. Frankie, with his one eye and three legs, taught me more about love, loyalty and resilience than I could have imagined.
The days after Leslie left were a veritable whirlwind of grief. I remained steadfast, but the thought of losing someone I loved so much shattered me. Thankfully, Leslie felt the same way. After nearly a week of silence, she finally called, offering to try and repair our relationship. I told her that Frankie wasn’t going anywhere, but his absence was something I missed terribly.
We met for a cup of coffee and it felt like there was no anger at all. We laughed, talked, and she eventually came over to my place for dinner and a film. The issue of my dog seemed to be forgotten and we had a wonderful week. A month later we moved in together.
Three weeks later, when I returned from work, I was horrified to find Frankie gone. Lesley wasn’t home either, and when she returned I was out of my mind, certain that she had done it.
Where is he, Les?
I thought it would be easier for you to say goodbye if you weren’t the one taking him away. He’s at the orphanage. I’m sorry, John, but I want kids, and I don’t want a dog that big around them.
I told you how important he is to me! How could you do that?
Did you really think I’d leave that monster around our future children? Your ugly dog or me and our future!
That was the last straw. I told her to pack her things and leave the house. Everything was in my name as I was earning more. Her leaving stunned and angered me and I never saw her again.
I rushed to the shelter, heartbroken, where I was told Frankie had been adopted. I pleaded with the staff member, my longing evident in every word, but confidentiality prevented her from giving me any details. Only when she saw the tears rolling on the cold floor did she whisper a mention of a park where the new owner frequented.
I waited in that park for a long time until I saw them, Emma, a woman whose grace betrayed sadness, and Olivia, her daughter, whose eyes brought back the light I had lost… and lo and behold, Frankie was leaping towards me, overflowing with joy and love, the very greeting that had been my salvation.
Emma listened to me, telling me about her struggle with her thoughts as she looked at Olivia, who found a light in Frankie after the loss of her father. Emma shared their story, telling me how Frankie became a pillar of their healing.
I offered a temporary but necessary solution that grew out of a mutual understanding of loss and resilience: I would bring Frankie to Olivia every day.
That’s how our lives became intertwined. Daily visits became shared dinners, leading to time together, and gradually, Emma, Olivia and I became inseparable, with Frankie always by our side. Our bond strengthened, healing us in unexpected ways, and love blossomed on the most incredible ground.
Eventually, Emma and I decided to get married, and our ceremony reflected the path that brought us here. The ceremony celebrated love, life and second chances. Olivia, radiant as a bridesmaid, sprinkled the walkway with petals, her laughter sounding like a melody. And Frankie, the faithful companion and bridge between our worlds, wore rings on his collar, symbolising the abiding power of love and connection.
As we exchanged vows, I couldn’t help but think of the thorny path that had brought us here. In a world that once seemed so dark to me, we found light in ourselves, in Olivia and in Frankie, the dog that saved me and, indirectly, brought us all together.
Our loved ones were all around us, with Frankie sitting proudly beside us, and I realised that sometimes the most beautiful love stories are born out of the most unexpected circumstances. As we walked down the alley, forming a new family, with Marley in front, I realised that sometimes what we lose doesn’t just come back – it takes us exactly where we need to be.
