At first, Reggie slept in a custom-built crate in her room, lined with fleece blankets and rubber toys. But over time, the loneliness crept in, and Cassandra found herself longing for closer connection. Watching the family next door banish their golden retriever to a cold patio each night only strengthened her conviction—Reggie belonged beside her.
So she started letting him sleep in her bed. Each night, the big dog stretched out beside her like a warm, living shield. His steady breathing calmed her, and his presence made her feel protected in ways no person ever had. Weeks passed. Then something shifted.
Reggie stopped eating his favorite meals—organic turkey, bone broth, peanut butter-stuffed Kongs. He sniffed his bowl, then walked away. When Cassandra noticed he hadn’t touched his beef shank in two days, she felt a pang of unease. Reggie began pacing the house at night, his nails clicking on the hardwood, restless and alert. He avoided his crate entirely. And somehow, he looked… different. Leaner. Tense. Coiled like a spring.