A Dog Named Chirulin, A Love That Heals

When my grandmother passed away, my grandfather was left alone in the quiet of his home, wrapped in grief and silence. He refused to let anyone move in with him, insisting he could manage—but I saw the loneliness in his eyes. Hoping to bring him comfort, I introduced him to a little dog I had rescued from the street.

He named the dog “Chirulin.” From that day on, they were inseparable. They ate together, watched TV side by side, took afternoon naps in the sun, and went on long walks like old friends rediscovering joy. Chirulin gave my grandfather something precious—companionship, laughter, and a renewed reason to get up each morning.

Not long ago, my grandfather fell ill and was hospitalized. During that time, he wrote me a letter. In it, he detailed how to care for Chirulin if he didn’t return home. He included Chirulin’s favorite soup recipe and left instructions with love in every word. But what he didn’t leave me was the recipe for living without him.

Thankfully, he recovered. The moment he saw Chirulin again, he hugged him tightly and whispered, “We need to hurry and do all the things we still have left to do—there’s not much time.” He laughed, and Chirulin wagged his tail as if he understood every word.

Now, they have a list: places to visit, things to experience, memories to make—together. Chirulin isn’t “just a dog.” He is a lifeline, a keeper of joy, a silent healer of wounds too deep for words.

To those who say, “It’s only a dog,” I say: animals are gifts for the soul. They teach us loyalty, patience, kindness, and most of all—how to love without limits.