When my grandmother passed away, my relatives rushed to her house searching for her will. I was the only one who stayed behind to take her old dog, Berta. Grandma had always said Berta was her best friend, and though I didn’t expect anything, I couldn’t leave her behind. While everyone argued about inheritance, I simply wanted to honor Grandma’s memory. I had no idea the little dog carried a secret that would soon change everything.

Grandma had always believed people should earn their way in life. Even though she was successful, she only ever helped us through education, not money. Because of that, my family kept their distance — until her passing. When the lawyer announced that none of them would receive anything, frustration filled the room. Someone mentioned giving Berta away, but I stepped forward and said, “I’ll take her.”

A few weeks later, while brushing Berta, I noticed something unusual on her collar — a small metal tag with a hidden compartment. Inside was a tiny key and an address leading to a locker at the train station. My hands trembled as I opened it and found an envelope marked “For Meredith.” Inside was Grandma’s handwritten letter explaining that everything she owned would go to the person who cared for Berta with genuine love — and that person was me.

Tears filled my eyes as I realized her true lesson: kindness has greater value than greed. Grandma had trusted love over money, compassion over pride. I used part of her gift to support the hospital where I worked and made sure Berta lived out her days surrounded by warmth and care. In the end, Grandma’s real inheritance wasn’t wealth — it was wisdom, hidden inside a loyal heart with a wagging tail.