In the weeks that followed, Noah’s movements became more frequent and deliberate. His eyes, once unseeing and vacant, began to follow Max around the room, tracking his playful antics. His laughter, a sound Sarah and Michael had feared they’d never hear, bubbled up the first time Max rolled over clumsily, pawing playfully at the air. It was an infectious, joyous noise that filled the house with hope.
Family visits became celebrations rather than solemn gatherings. Sarah’s sister, who had gifted them Max, wept tears of joy as she watched her nephew’s transformation. “I never imagined,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, “that a little puppy could do what we all prayed for.”
