centidog

A Wrong Turn, or Maybe the Right One I wasn’t supposed to walk down that alley. It was one of those narrow, forgotten lanes you pass a hundred times but never enter — the kind with peeling walls, damp concrete, and silence thick enough to hear your …

This morning started just like any other. I heard the soft clicking of old toenails on the hardwood floor. Not the neighbor. Not the wind. It was him — my dog. My best friend. Fifteen years old today. He looked at me with those cloudy eyes, tilted…

Today is his birthday. Fifteen years old. I wish I could say we woke up to balloons and confetti, to a house filled with laughter and celebration. But we didn’t. Instead, I opened my eyes to the sound of soft breathing at the foot of my bed. There h…

Today, my dog turned two. Two years old — still young, still playful, still chasing butterflies in the yard like every moment is magic. But today, something in me felt off. Something quiet. Something a little heavy. Because no one remembered. No …

Today, my dog turned two. Two years old — still young, still playful, still chasing butterflies in the yard like every moment is magic. But today, something in me felt off. Something quiet. Something a little heavy. Because no one remembered. No …

Today is my dog’s birthday. He turned 12. That’s 84 in dog years. And for the first time since I got him, I think he felt... forgotten. This morning, I found him lying by the window—his favorite spot, where the sun hits the floor just right. Normall…

Today is my dog’s 12th birthday. Twelve years. That’s more than a decade of tail wags, wet noses, sleepy cuddles, and quiet, loyal companionship. And yet, today felt different. Not because we threw a party or did anything grand—quite the opposite, a…