After a brutal accident, Max helped me heal — loyal, calming, always by my side. But once I was back on my feet, my girlfriend left… and took Max with her. She never even liked him. The cops called it a “civil matter.” Fine. If she wanted war, I knew where to hit back.

The accident flipped my life upside down. One minute I was humming to a bad pop song, the next I was in a hospital bed full of tubes.Camille visited often, filmed videos, smiled for photos. But even then, I felt alone. When I finally came home, Max was there — tail wagging, eyes wide, body trembling with joy.

He became my shadow. When pain woke me up at night, Max curled beside me. When I struggled, he stayed alert. Camille, on the other hand, began pulling away.Does Max have to sleep in the bed?” she asked, annoyed.“Yeah,” I said. “He does.”Three months later, she left — right as I was healing. “This nurse thing? It’s too much for me,” she said. Translation: back to her ex.

Then came the twist: “I’ll take Max with me.”I laughed. She hated walks, hated his smell, barely touched a leash.never liked Max,” I said. “You’re not taking him.”We adopted him together,” she shot back. “My followers love him.”She left empty-handed… or so I thought.A week later, while I was at therapy, she broke into my house and stole Max. Knew the blind spots in my security. But forgot the audio.On the tape: “Come here, baby boy! Let’s go home with Mommy!”I called the cops. “Civil issue,” they said.

I tried her parents’ place. Heard Max barking behind the gate. Her mom slammed the door in my face.So I opened our joint savings — the one I funded. Drained it into crypto. Didn’t spend it. Just moved it where she couldn’t.Two days later: “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!”My reply: “Return Max, or never see the money again.”Next day, she showed up. Shades on, leash in hand. Said nothing. Just handed him over.As she walked off, she muttered, “You’re unhinged. It’s just a dog.”I smiled. “Yeah? And you’re just my ex. But I’m not trying to steal you back.”A few days later, I texted: “Oops. Market crashed. Guess I’m bad with stress-finances.”Was it petty? Sure.Worth it? Ask Max — curled up beside me, tail thumping when I say his name.Loyalty can’t be stolen. It’s earned. Max earned his place. Camille lost hers.