The doctors had been cautiously optimistic, acknowledging the changes but hesitant to credit them to anything other than chance. Yet, they couldn’t ignore the signs — Noah was improving. Weekly visits to the physical therapist showed measurable progress. Muscles that had once been still were now engaging, albeit slowly. The once bleak prognosis began to morph into a conversation about potential, about the possibilities for Noah’s future.

Max was there every step of the way. He was not just a pet; he was a catalyst, a silent motivator that coaxed Noah from his muted world. The little puppy seemed to sense exactly what Noah needed, providing the comfort of companionship and the gentle stimulus of touch. Max would nuzzle Noah’s cheek, and in response, Noah’s eyes would flicker open, a hint of recognition appearing more frequently in his gaze.