When the warden brought the paper, asking for his last wish, the man did not ask for gourmet food, cigarettes, or a priest, as many do. He quietly said:

— I want to see my dog. One last time.

At first, the staff received it with disbelief. Could this be some clever plan? But on the appointed day, before the sentence, he was brought to the yard. Under the watchful eyes of the guards, he met his dog.

Seeing its owner, the shepherd broke free from the leash and rushed to him. At that moment, time seemed to stop.

The dog tore free from the police officer’s hands and ran to its owner with a force as if trying to make up for twelve years of separation in a single moment.

It leapt into his arms, knocking him down, and the prisoner, for the first time in many years, felt neither the cold nor the weight of the chains. Only warmth.