My Son Shared His Lunch With A Stray Dog Every Day—Until A Red SUV Pulled Up Beside Him

Behind an abandoned hardware store, my 10-year-old son had been surreptitiously sharing his lunch with a stray dog. Until a red SUV arrived and the dog’s tragic backstory was revealed, I assumed it was just a good gesture.

Brooke is my name. Living in a little town nestled between the mountains and the recollection of better times, I am 37 years old. My job involves long days at a little restaurant called Millie’s, which has a jukebox that still plays Patsy Cline, chipped cups, and a regular named Hank who always gets a black coffee and always leaves a two-dollar tip, regardless of the total amount he pays.

Although it’s not a glamorous life, we live it. Since his father decided he didn’t want to be a father, I have been raising my son, Eli, alone. At the time, Eli was just three years old. He’s ten now, and I can assure you that there are days when he looks older than me.

I’ve always thought Eli has an old soul because of the way he carries himself.

He’s the type of child who, even if he’s the last one off, thanks the bus driver every single day. As if they were celebrities, he gestures to the sanitation workers. A beetle was flipped on its back, its legs flapping aimlessly, and he once halted me in the middle of the sidewalk.