Cole’s grip tightened. “He’s not going to wait alone anymore.”

He adopted Cooper that day.

At first, the dog followed him like a shadow — quiet, alert, uncertain. But the more miles they rode together, the more alive he became. Wind in his fur. Tongue out. Tail wagging.

Soon, people along the route started recognizing them — the biker and the golden retriever.

One morning, as they stopped at a gas station, an old man approached. “Is that Harris’s dog?”

Cole nodded. “Was. Now he’s mine.”

The man smiled gently. “He’s always been a hero’s dog. Guess he found another one.”

Months later, Cole returned to the same stretch of highway where he’d found Cooper.