While My Family Argued About Grandma’s Will, I Was the Only One Who Took Her Beloved Dog — And Found the Secret She Left Behind
When Grandma passed away, my relatives rushed to her house, eager to see what she had left behind. I was the only one who took her loyal dog, Berta, home. Caring for Grandma in her final months had taught me what truly mattered, and honoring her memory meant more than claiming belongings. I never imagined Berta carried a message meant only for me.
When the lawyer announced there was no inheritance for my relatives, the room filled with disappointment. Their attention quickly shifted to Berta—whom none of them wanted. Even though my small apartment wasn’t ideal, I took her without hesitation. Life with Berta brought comfort, almost like Grandma was still with me.
One evening after a long hospital shift, my mother showed up at my door, accusing me of hiding something valuable. I told her again that all I had was Berta, but she didn’t believe me. Later that night, while petting Berta, I noticed a tiny opening in her collar—a hidden tag with an address and locker number. Inside the locker was a small key, an envelope, and documents labeled “For Meredith.”
Grandma’s letter explained everything: she wanted her savings to go to the person who acted out of love, not expectation. She trusted that person would be me. Filled with gratitude, I honored her spirit of kindness by using much of the inheritance to support the hospital where I worked—just as she would have wanted.
