I used to be someone who didn’t have much affection for animals, let alone dogs. I couldn’t comprehend why people referred to their pets as their children and themselves as parents—I considered it foolish.

With two younger sisters and a little brother, my love was reserved solely for my siblings, not for any animal. Dogs, in particular, seemed like messy creatures that would create chaos and bark incessantly.

However, my brother had always yearned for a dog, like most little boys do. Despite my family’s collective decision against getting one, they surprised me by bringing home a tiny German Shepherd puppy while I was away in Japan for a student exchange program.

The puppy was in a pitiful state, sickly and malnourished due to its previous owner’s neglect. But through my mother’s dedicated efforts, the puppy not only survived but also became an integral part of our family. We named him Rocky.

All of this happened during my absence, and as my studies came to an end, I prepared to return home. The thought of having a dog waiting for me there was both exciting and nerve-wracking. I envisioned the dog tearing apart my newly bought clothes and shoes, which I had worked so hard to afford.

When I finally arrived home, I was taken aback to see that my mother, who had initially opposed the idea, had formed a strong attachment to Rocky.

As time passed, I began to understand why she felt that way. I witnessed firsthand how our little Rocky loved us unconditionally, far beyond our own affections for him. No matter how distant or aloof I was, he treated me with unwavering loyalty. Despite his playful and sometimes silly nature, he always seemed to sense the atmosphere and would either lighten the mood or quietly lend an ear. You could simply feel his love for you. And that love alone was enough to bring us together as a family.

Looking at my brother and Rocky together, I found myself hoping that Rocky would stay with us until old age, enriching our lives with his presence.