Every day, at exactly 5:45 PM, he’d walk to that same dusty roadside spot.Locals called him “Shadow.”He wasn’t always alone. Two years ago, an old man named Frank lived in the little blue house just down the road. Frank had rescued Shadow as a pup during a storm. From that day, they were inseparable — fishing, walking, sitting by the porch as the sun set. Shadow’s world began and ended with Frank.But one morning, the ambulance came. Frank didn’t return. No goodbyes. No final walk.And still… Shadow waited.Rain or shine. In snow. In summer heat.For 730 days, he returned to that same spot — ears perked, tail still, eyes fixed on the bend in the road — as if Frank might finally come walking home.Locals left him food. A child placed a blanket near his spot. One man offered to adopt him — but he’d always run back.Last week, Shadow lay down at that spot one final time. He never got up.They buried him right there — beneath the tree where he waited.
Someone carved a small stone:
“Some loves are forever. Some waits never end.”