**Diary Entry**
The small veterinary clinic felt stifling, as if the air itself had grown thick with sorrow. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead was the only sound, casting a pale glow over the room. Beneath it, on a well-worn tartan blanket, lay Maxa once-proud English Mastiff, his golden coat now dulled by age and illness. His breathing was laboured, each exhale a quiet struggle.
Beside him sat James, his owner, shoulders slumped as though weighed down by grief before it had even fully arrived. His fingers trembled as they brushed over Maxs ears, tracing the familiar contours he had known for eleven years. Tears pooled in his eyes but didnt fall, as though afraid to disturb the fragile silence.
Youve been my best friend, Max, James whispered, voice barely more than a breath. You were there through everythingthrough the rain, through the storms, through every hard night. Im sorry I wish I could have done more.
Then, as if in reply, Max lifted his head weakly, pressing his nose into Jamess palm. The touch was faint, but it carried everythinglove, memory, an unspoken *Im still here*. James bent forward, resting his forehead against Maxs, and for a moment, nothing else existed. Years of walks through the countryside, evenings curled by the hearth, Maxs steady presence guarding him through every hardshipthey all rushed back in a bittersweet tide.
The vet and nurse stood quietly in the corner, their own breaths held. The nurse, a young woman with gentle hands, turned away to wipe her tears.
And thensomething extraordinary. Max, trembling with effort, raised his paws and draped them over Jamess shoulders. It was a hug, frail but deliberate, as if to say, *Thank you. For everything.*
James choked back a sob. I love you, boy. I always will.
The vet, a woman with sharp eyes and steady hands, stepped forward. The syringe in her grip was small, the liquid inside clear and final. Whenever youre ready, she murmured.
James took a shuddering breath. You can rest now, Max. Youve been so brave.
The vet movedthen froze. Her stethoscope pressed to Maxs chest, she stiffened. Wait, she said sharply. His temperaturethis isnt organ failure. Its sepsis!
James stared, uncomprehending. Hehe can recover?
If we act fast, she said, already snapping orders to the nurse. IV, antibioticsnow!
James waited outside, pacing the corridor, every second stretching into agony. Then, at last, the vet reappeared, exhaustion and triumph mingling in her expression. Hes stable. The fevers breaking.
James rushed back inside. Max lay on fresh blankets, his eyes brightening as James approached. His tail thumped weaklyonce, twiceagainst the table.
James knelt beside him, pressing a kiss to his head. You stubborn old thing, he whispered, laughing through tears.
The vet smiled. Hes not done fighting yet.
Max lifted a paw, resting it on Jamess hand. Not goodbye. Not yet.
A promise to keep goingtogether.
