Padraig dragged himself into the bedroom well after midnight. He was looking forward to falling face down on the soft pillow and catching some serious zzz’s. Mia was already way ahead of him on that. She had remained at the pub until about ten, and she probably would have stayed longer if he hadn’t seen the dark circles under her eyes and insisted she go home and go to bed.

Surprisingly, while she was sound asleep, Seamus wasn’t. The dog was wide awake and anxious, standing next to Mia on the bed. When he saw Padraig enter the room, the dog started to whine.

The cry and his high-alert demeanor sent a shot of adrenaline through Padraig, chasing away all traces of the exhaustion he’d been feeling.

They’d gotten Seamus from a rescue shelter. The brown and white pup was a Sheltie-Spitz mix and he had just turned eight months old. Padraig had jokingly proclaimed he and Seamus were kindred spirits, both one hundred percent under Mia’s spell, devoted and in love with the sweet woman.

Although lately, he was starting to think the dog viewed him more as competition than owner. Padraig harbored no illusion that the dog was his. Seamus had chosen his “human” and there was no winning the puppy’s affections with Mia around.

Mia had suffered a seizure a few days after they’d gotten Seamus back in July and since then, the dog seemed to have developed some sort of sixth sense about them.

Colm had been the first to notice. He and Kelli had come over for dinner a few weeks earlier and Seamus, who was typically running amok, as only a badly trained puppy could do, had been uncharacteristically subdued. He had planted himself at Mia’s feet and would not be moved, even by the food Kelli kept trying to sneak him under the table.

Seamus’s agitation had continued to grow until he’d finally started nudging against Mia’s leg, trying to move her off the chair. Padraig made the comment the dog had developed the bad habit of pushing Mia every once in a while. Said it was as if Seamus was herding her, trying to get her to go where he wanted her.

When Colm asked if it was only Mia he acted like that with, and Padraig confirmed, Colm mentioned reading a story about seizure dogs. He said some dogs had a heightened sense that allowed them to almost predict when a seizure was coming. He mentioned some dogs lying on their owners to keep them down so they wouldn’t fall and others moving their owners forcibly away from stairs.

Padraig and Mia started putting the pieces together and realized Seamus’s anxiety always preceded a seizure. And that night confirmed it when Mia suffered a seizure shortly after Kelli and Colm left.

Padraig walked to the bed and petted Seamus on the head. “Easy, boy. I’m here. We’ll take care of her,” he whispered.

They didn’t have long to wait. Mia’s seizure struck only a few minutes later, her body convulsing roughly.

Seamus lay next to her as Padraig made sure she didn’t shake herself off the bed. The seizures came more and more frequently, but that didn’t mean Padraig was used to them. They still terrified him, made him feel helpless and weak.

Mercifully, this one was short. Mia opened her confused, glazed eyes for only a few seconds before drifting back to sleep. Her face was paler these days and, while he tried to deny it, he could see she was losing weight.

No matter how hard he tried to freeze time, it kept slipping away from him, the days going faster, rather than slower.

Twelve days. They were twelve days away from Mia’s birthday. From their wedding.

And while he longed for October with every fiber of his being, he also wished the day would never come. That they could live forever in an eternal September.

With Mia here. Always here. With him.

Once the seizure passed, Seamus settled down. However, he didn’t relinquish his spot right next to Mia.

Padraig undressed and climbed in on his side of the bed, reaching over the dog to gently stroke Mia’s hair. She didn’t stir.

Then his hand drifted to the dog. He gave Seamus a scratch between the ears. “Good boy,” he murmured.

Seamus rolled toward him, and for the first time ever, snuggled next to Padraig. He couldn’t figure out if the dog was offering or seeking comfort, but Padraig decided it didn’t matter. The warmth of the dog’s nearness soaked into him, chasing away the cold fear coursing through him.

Padraig lay there for nearly half an hour, stroking the puppy’s soft fur, his gaze locked on Mia’s face. It was becoming his standard nighttime routine. Watching as she slept, checking her face for pain, making sure her chest was still rising and falling steadily.

Seamus sighed heavily, distracting him. When Padraig looked at him, Seamus nuzzled more firmly against him.

“What are we going to do without her?” he whispered to the dog.

Seamus licked the hand petting him, and Padraig smiled even as a tear slid down his cheek. The dog shifted higher on the bed, burrowing under Padraig’s arm. It honest to God felt as if the puppy was giving him a hug.

“Yeah,” Padraig said with a sad chuckle. “I guess we’ll just have to take care of each other, huh?”

The dog’s eyes remained on his face for a few moments more before they closed slowly, his steady, even breathing lulling Padraig into sleep as well. Seamus’s calmness reassured him that it was safe to look away for a little while and give in to the exhaustion.