There once was a huge, brown brindle dog named Bear, passed down through the ages like a secret woven into the threads of family history. Bear’s fur was streaked with the wisdom of centuries, each strip telling a story, each eye a window to a time long gone. The dog was immortal, a strange gift and curse from the first owner— an ancestor who had loved Bear deeply and had sealed the bond with a whispered wish.

Generations of owners came and went. Each time a new face appeared, Bear’s heart remained heavy, its memories stitched together with grief. Bear would sit by the many graves of his past owners, eyes glistening with the silent sorrow of years lived in a never ending cycle. First it had been a young girl, then a strong man, the cerious woman, and the boy with the kindred spirit. Every owner eventually grew old, as they all must, and every time Bear’s eyes grew tired, following the procession from life to death, knowing he would never share their fate.

One day, as Bear watched the funeral of his latest owner— a man who had only been a child when he found the dog at his door, now old and buried too soon— the weary heart of the immortal pet finally spoke. _Will I ever be free of this endless chain? _It wondered. _Will I die before I watch the next person die? Or will I simply sit, always watching, always waiting for the sorrow to return? _

__

__

Bear curled up into a ball, resting beneath the shade of a willow tree by the graveyard. And at that moment, he wondered if he could ever find peace again.