Father Prioritizes Dog Over Son: Chooses to Carry Pet Instead

A father’s decision to carry his dog instead of his son has sparked a viral curiosity. A woman recorded the unusual scene from her car and published the video on her TikTok account.

While driving, Luz Elena captured a video of a man carrying his dog in one arm while holding his son’s hand in the other — sparking an online debate about family priorities.

“When your priority is your dog, not the child.” She wrote.

https://v19-web-newkey.tiktokcdn.com/95ccea07be5e3fce06fa22517283e87b/66203039/video/tos/maliva/tos-maliva-ve-0068c800-us/24fc3982608d464ca750f6bfe5bf04db/?a=1988&bti=NDU3ZjAwOg%3D%3D&ch=0&cr=3&dr=0&lr=tiktok_m&cd=0%7C0%7C1%7C&cv=1&br=1674&bt=837&cs=0&ds=3&ft=bL4kam7nPD12NoBZkT-Uxv42SY6e3wv25dcAp&mime_type=video_mp4&qs=0&rc=Njo0Zjg2Njo4OGg5Zzg8aUBpam5nZmg6ZmpvPDMzNzczM0AtYy02YzMuXzIxMjJfMjUyYSNucDEycjRnbWtgLS1kMTZzcw%3D%3D&vvpl=1&l=20240417142520408C1422DEFB820E92E4&btag=e00088000

Despite being originally posted in May 2022, this touching video has recently gained popularity on social media with over 4 million views and 5,000 comments.

The overwhelming majority of users came out in defense of the man’s decision, with one writing, “If his leg’s hurt, the child has good tennis shoes.” It’s clear that this father’s love for his dog and his son are both equally important to him.

Men love their pets. No question about that! Check out more articles where people’s admiration for their fluffy loved ones has gone through the roof:

Preview photo credit lega819 / TikTok

My Stepdaughter Insisted I Reassign All Her Deceased Father’s Possessions into Her Name – I Complied, Yet She Was Unpleased

The emptiness of George’s departure permeates their residence, his presence enduring in the shirt Mariana grips nightly. However, it wasn’t his passing that devastated her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s insistence on inheriting his wealth. When she reluctantly agreed, an unexpected twist left Susan enraged and Mariana strangely content.

Progressing past the death of a dear one is always challenging. At times, I still sense my husband George’s voice echoing in my mind. I awaken holding his cherished shirt, his fragrance still clinging to the material. Yet, as I mourned him, my stepdaughter’s actions… they utterly broke me…

I am Mariana, aged 57, wed to the kindest man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, aged 34, from an earlier marriage.

Our bond with Susan was once good. She addressed me as “Mom” and filled the gap in my heart from not bearing my own children. I never viewed her as “another’s” child. I cherished her as my own daughter, truly.

When Susan wed her chosen partner, George and I were thrilled. But then, everything deteriorated when George received a terminal cancer diagnosis.

Susan’s visits reduced from weekly to monthly, then ceased entirely. She seldom visited her father, occasionally phoning to inquire about his health.

One day, she posed a question that tore me apart. “How long does he have left?”

Clutching the phone tightly, my voice shook. “Susan, your father isn’t an item with an expiration date.”

“I just need to know, Mom. I’m swamped, you know that… I can’t come by often,” she responded.

“Swamped?” I repeated, my tone filled with disbelief. “Too swamped to visit your dying father?”

She exhaled deeply. “Look, I’ll attempt to come soon, okay?”

But that “soon” never materialized.

Then, the dreaded day arrived. The hospital informed me that George had passed away peacefully.

I was devastated, barely able to stand as the reality sank in. My beloved George, gone.

Shockingly, Susan didn’t attend his funeral. When I called her, she promptly excused herself.

“I’m expecting, Mom,” she stated, her tone strangely indifferent. “The doctors advised against lengthy travel due to some medical concerns.”

I swallowed hard, holding back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you wish to bid him farewell one last time?”

“I can’t jeopardize my baby’s health,” she curtly replied. “You understand, right?”

I didn’t, not truly, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, dear. Take care.”

As I sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t dismiss the notion that our relationship had irrevocably changed.

Six months post-George’s death, I was startled by a loud knock at my door. Opening it, I saw Susan and her husband Doug, along with a severe-looking man in a suit.

Susan entered without greeting. “Mom, we need your signature on some documents.”

Baffled, I blinked. “Which documents?”

Doug handed me a stack of papers, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. They’re for transferring all the properties into our names.”

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