Doctors called it alopecia. I was losing my hair, maybe forever. I was so upset. Even the dog my husband, Jack brought home didn't help. "I named him Pug for his turned-up nose," Jack,said.
One night when I burst into tears, Pug licked my hand. He had a worried expression. "You'll get through this," he seemed to say. For the first time I believed I would.
My hair fell out completely. Some days I didn't want to get out of bed. Then I'd feel Pug gently licking my hand. You can do it, I was sure he was saying. I found a wig and wore stylish hats. One morning I realized my hair was growing back. Pug always knew I'd come through.
I think that's why he nearly took my hand off!