Bella aged more quickly than Ethan wanted to admit. Her once-bright stride shortened into a limp, her coat dulled, her breaths came slower. Yet when Ethan came home at night, she always lifted her head, tail wagging faintly as though saving her last strength for him.
One evening, after a short walk, Bella lay down by the radiator and did not rise again. Ethan knelt beside her, stroking her fur, whispering her name until her breathing faded. Her eyes were calm, as though she had been waiting for this moment, content to go knowing her lions still remembered her.