Margaret nodded politely at the time, but she didn’t mention the quiet reality of her finances.
Arthur’s pension had been small. After medical bills and the rising cost of living, Margaret found herself counting every dollar that passed through her hands. The medication alone cost more than she liked to admit.
But there was one thing she never considered giving up.
Her dog Rusty.
Rusty had been Arthur’s idea five years earlier when he noticed how lonely Margaret seemed after their children moved away.
“Every house needs a heartbeat,” Arthur had said while scratching the small orange dog behind the ears. “And sometimes that heartbeat has four legs.”
After Arthur died, Rusty became the only creature in the house who noticed when Margaret woke up, when she went to sleep, and when she cried quietly in the kitchen late at night.
