Grief is supposed to bring families closer together, but in my case, it did the opposite. My mother was barely buried when my father began making changes—changes I didn’t see coming. But what my father didn’t know was that my mother had left behind one last surprise.
I was nineteen when my mother died. It happened fast, too fast. One moment she was laughing at some stupid reality TV show, and the next she was too weak to lift a spoon. Cancer doesn’t wait for goodbyes. Neither did my father.
Sick woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
Mom was calm, and wherever she went, Peanut followed. That little French bulldog was glued to her side, her furry shadow. When the illness set in, Peanut barely left her bed, curling up against her as if she could keep her there just by being near her.
I tried to do the same, but unlike Peanut, I had to eat, sleep, and pretend my dad wasn’t already erasing her before she was even gone.
He never loved her—not the way she deserved. I never saw him hold her hand, bring her flowers, or even look at her the way a husband should. And in these last days, he barely pretended to.
Sick woman in bed with her husband sitting in the background | Source: Midjourney
When the doctors told us it was only a matter of time, he simply nodded. No tears. He didn’t collapse. Just a nod, like when he was told the dishwasher needed repair.
“I don’t want to go,” I whispered, clutching the hem of the black dress I’d borrowed from my cousin. It smelled of lavender and someone else’s life.
“You have to go,” my father muttered, fixing his tie in the hallway mirror. His voice was flat, as if we were heading to a business meeting, not my mother’s funeral.
Serious man adjusting his tie in the hallway | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed hard. “Peanut should come.”
He sighed in exasperation. “It’s an animal, not a person.”
“She was Mom’s dog.”
“And Mom left.”
I felt Peanut’s little body press against my leg, warm and trembling. I leaned down and scratched behind his ears. “I won’t be long, okay?”
She licked my fingers.
A sad-looking French bulldog | Source: Pexels
The funeral was a blur of whispered condolences and stiff hugs. Strangers told me I was “so strong,” but I didn’t feel strong. I felt empty. My father barely spoke, just nodded as if checking off a to-do list. When we got home, he took off his tie and threw it on the counter.
“It’s done,” he said.
“Is it done?” I snapped. “Mom just died, and you’re acting like…”
“Like what?” He turned away, his eyes cold. “Like I should move on? Because I do. And so should you.”
A mean old man talks to his daughter | Source: Midjourney
Peanut whimpered at my feet. I picked her up and buried my face in her fur. “I’m going to bed.”
“Take this thing with you,” he muttered, grabbing a beer from the fridge.
That night, I barely slept. Peanut curled up next to me, breathing softly. For the first time since Mom died, I felt almost safe.
Until the next day.
Sad woman lying in bed next to her dog | Source: Midjourney
I came home to silence. No little paws slapping the floor. No excited grunts. Just the sound of my dad opening another beer.
Something wrong.
“Peanut?” I called, dropping my bag. My heart was already racing. “Peanut!”
Nothing.
I turned to my father. He was sitting in his usual spot, feet up, eyes fixed on the TV. As if nothing had changed.
“Where’s Peanut?” I asked.
He didn’t even look up. “I got rid of her.”
Elderly man watching television | Source: Midjourney
“What ?”
“She’s gone,” he said, taking a slow sip. “It’s not my problem anymore.”
I couldn’t breathe. The words made no sense, as if he were speaking another language. “You… what do you mean, part? Where is it?!”
He finally looked at me, his eyes dull. “In a shelter.” He shrugged, as if talking about an old chair he no longer needed. “It’s better there than at home.”
My body moved before my brain did. I ran.
I walked out the door. Into the street. Into my car.
A tense woman behind the wheel | Source: Midjourney
I barely remember the trip. Peanut had never spent a night without Mom and me. She must have been terrified and disoriented.
It took hours. Three different shelters before I found her.
She was curled up in a corner of a steel cage, trembling. Her large, dark eyes met mine, and she let out a whimper—small and desperate. She pressed her small body against the bars, her tail twitching weakly.
“Peanut,” I shouted.
The woman at the reception desk gave me a sad smile. “Can I help you?”
“I’m taking her home. She’s my dog.”
Woman talking to a receptionist at a dog shelter | Source: Midjourney
The woman’s expression changed. “I’m sorry, but your father signed the abandonment papers.”
“So what? He had no right…”
She sighed. “Legally, it’s no longer yours.” She hesitated, then softened. “Its new owner is picking it up today.”
I wanted to fight, scream, do something.
But it was too late.
Peanut was already gone.
Disappointed woman talking to a receptionist | Source: Midjourney
Two weeks passed. My father barely spoke to me, even though I wasn’t interested. The house seemed emptier than ever. No Peanut. No warmth. Just the ghost of everything I’d lost.
Then the phone call came.
“There’s something that needs to be sorted out,” my mother’s lawyer said.
When I arrived, my father was already there. He barely looked at me, arms crossed, impatiently tapping his foot against the ground. He wasn’t grieving, he was waiting. For money, probably.
Elderly man in a lawyer’s office | Source: Midjourney
The lawyer cleared his throat and opened a file. “Your mother’s will is very… specific.”
My father straightened, anticipation twinkling in his eyes.
I held my breath.
“Everything she owned before the marriage remained solely hers,” the lawyer continued. “And since everything purchased in this marriage was with her money…” He paused, glancing at my father. “That means everything goes to the sole beneficiary.”
My father leaned forward, ready to take it.
The lawyer turned to me.
Silence.
Woman with a slightly surprised expression | Source: Midjourney
“What ?”
The lawyer didn’t even blink. “Your mother left everything to Peanut—her house, her savings, all her possessions. Everything now belongs to Peanut.”
My father stiffened. I could hear his breath hitch.
“This is crazy!” he snapped. “A dog can’t own anything!”
“That’s correct,” the lawyer agreed. “That’s why his legal guardian has complete control of the estate.” He closed the file, finally meeting my gaze.
The realization hit like a bolt of lightning.
I was Peanut’s tutor.
Which means… it was all mine.
Woman talking with her mother’s lawyer | Source: Midjourney
My father’s face twisted with fury.
And for the first time in a long time, I smiled.
My father turned pale, then red. He clenched his fists on the table. I’d never seen him get emotional about anything—until now.
“This is a joke. A fucking joke!” he spits.
The lawyer didn’t even bat an eyelid. He simply slid the paperwork across the desk. “This is legally binding. Your wife was very clear.”
A determined lawyer | Source: Midjourney
I saw my father panic. His jaw tightened and his breathing quickened. His eyes flickered between me and the lawyer, his hands gripping the chair as if holding on would keep everything from escaping.
Then something clicked in his head. He stood up so fast that the chair crashed to the floor.
“Then I’ll get the dog.”
I smiled. “Good luck with that.”
He stormed off. I let him go.
When he arrived at the shelter, Peanut was already gone.
Man with shocked expression speaking to receptionist at animal shelter | Source: Midjourney
Ashley, my mother’s best friend, had volunteered there for years. As soon as she saw Peanut at the reception desk, she didn’t hesitate—she took her home. Without knowing it, my father had entrusted my mother’s most beloved companion to someone who truly cared.
When he arrived, claiming his property, he had nothing left to claim.
And at that point, I wasn’t there either.
Ashley welcomed me like I was one of her own. At her house, I wasn’t just surviving, I was safe. Loved. I had the house and the money, but most of all, I had Peanut. She snuggled up to me every night, warm and happy, far from the man who never wanted us.
Woman sleeping next to her beloved dog | Source: Midjourney
My father?
He had nothing.
As he deserved.
And the last words I said to him?
“Mom always knew you’d end up alone.”
Daughter confronted by her father | Source: Midjourney
Also read: Single father adopts unwanted boy with Down syndrome, learns years later the child inherited $1.2 million – Story of the day
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims regarding the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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