The Unbreakable Bond: A Dog’s Final Goodbye

Today is Haha’s seventh day since passing. Over these days, several unexplainable things have happened.

The night I brought Haha’s urn back home, I cried as I entered the bedroom to put it beside the photo frame. Suddenly, I heard Haha’s footsteps on the floor. It was just one step. I turned around and called out, "Haha," and my family rushed in asking what happened. I told them I heard Haha’s footsteps, but they didn’t believe me. But I truly heard it.

The second night, around 8 PM, my family was waiting on the stairs. While they were on their phones, they suddenly heard Haha’s little steps echoing on the floor. When they turned to look, there was nothing there. They only told me this the next morning, and we all wondered if Haha was still around.

On the fourth day, after a long walk, I came home late, around 10 PM. As soon as I opened the door, the scent of Haha filled the air. I asked my family if they smelled it too, and they did. It was Haha’s scent, even though Haha was always so clean. But the scent was unmistakable, strong, and filled the room. I didn’t even change my shoes, just went through every room, looking for Haha.

Last night, I drifted into a hazy dream, where Haha was lying next to me on the bed. Suddenly, my mom screamed, "Haha is angry!" But we couldn’t see him, only hear his faint growling in the dark.

I tightly held Haha’s urn close, and then, out of nowhere, a strange man appeared beside my bed, grabbed my hand, and cried bitterly into my palm. I tried to pull away, struggling to wake up from this nightmare. I woke up feeling a deep chill, wondering who that man was. Could it have been Haha? 

Ever since Haha left, I haven’t dreamed of him, only heard his angry barking in last night’s dream.I don’t know if this was just my longing for Haha or a hallucination, but in these two days, I haven’t cried, though my heart feels empty.

At dinner, I went for a walk in the nearby park and saw someone walking a dog that looked just like Haha. I couldn’t resist reaching out to pet it, whispering, "Baby!" I heard you’d be coming back to say goodbye. Will you visit me?