11/26/2025
I was on a routine shopping trip with Titan, my 10-year-old Husky and diabetic alert dog, when a woman quietly began following us. She didn’t approach—just watched with a mix of hope and fear. It wasn’t until we reached the parking lot that she finally spoke, her voice trembling as she asked, “Is his name Titan?”
When I said yes, she broke down. “I was his puppy raiser.” She showed me photos of Titan as a fluffy puppy and told me how she’d raised him from eight weeks to eighteen months before sending him off for service-dog training—crying as she let him go. She had wondered about him every day since.
When I told her Titan had saved my life sixteen times, she wept again. Kneeling down, she called his name softly—and Titan walked straight to her, resting his head on her shoulder as if nine years had never passed. The bond was still there. The love was still there. And in that moment, I realized he carries the people who raised him in his heart forever.
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