His fingers gripped into Murphy\u2019s fur as if it were the only thing holding him here, and his breathing became steady.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce he found her,\u201d<\/strong> Walter whispered. \u201cIn the snow.\u201d<\/strong> when no one else took me seriously.<\/p>\n We initially thought the morphine was speaking. I thought there was more to it, though, because of the soft, pained tone in his voice.<\/p>\n Over the next three days, Walter\u2019s strength increased. Though lucid, not healthy. He could converse briefly while sipping soup.<\/p>\n Murphy was always by his side, always on guard, cuddling up close every night and wagging his tail whenever Walter woke up.<\/p>\n Walter summoned me over on the third day.<\/p>\n He said, \u201cNurse, do you have a moment?\u201d<\/strong> I came up with a chair.<\/p>\n He questioned, \u201cDo you think a dog can save someone\u2019s life?\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n I looked at Murphy. \u201cI believe I\u2019m witnessing evidence.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n Walter gave a small smile. \u201cI wasn\u2019t saved by Murphy. He kept her safe.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n \u201cYour spouse?\u201d<\/strong> I enquired.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. My neighbour. Lizzie. Twelve or thirteen years ago. She vanished. People believed she had fled. However, I knew she didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n I listened intently as I drew closer.<\/p>\n She was sixteen years old. A little wild-spirited. Good, though. When my arthritis flared up, he used to walk Murphy for me. called me \u201cMr. W.\u201d<\/strong>and claimed that I made her think of her grandfather.<\/p>\n He lowered his voice.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n She disappeared one day. She most likely departed with a boy, according to the police. Her mother didn\u2019t ask many questions about it. However, I simply sensed something wasn\u2019t right.<\/p>\n