We didn’t think he would make it through the night: He kept asking for “Murphy…” — but no one knew who that was
“We didn’t think he’d make it through the night.” He was very ill—low oxygen, high fever, barely conscious. But through it all, he kept whispering one name: “Murphy… Murphy…” We thought it might be a son or old friend. But when asked, he softly said:
“My good boy… I miss my good boy.”
We called his daughter. Her voice broke: “Murphy is his 13-year-old Golden Retriever. We left him at my brother’s while Dad’s in the hospital.” After some effort, the nurse managed to bring Murphy in. A few hours later, the dog entered the room—calm, loyal, tail wagging. When he saw his owner, he walked up and laid his head gently on his chest.
Walter opened his eyes and smiled. He whispered: “Murphy… did you find her?” Confused, his daughter…
