I’ve ridden this bus a few times now — maybe two or three — and every time, the same driver is behind the wheel. But he’s not alone.

His dog is always with him.

Sometimes curled up on a blanket near the front, sometimes sitting alert by his side, sometimes dozing off as the bus hums down its route. Rain or shine, day or night — the dog is there.

At first, I thought it was unusual. Then I realized it was something more.

It’s constant. It’s intentional.

One day, I witnessed a confrontation.

A woman boarded the bus and was immediately irritated. She made it clear that she found having a dog on a public bus unsanitary and unprofessional. She didn’t shout — but her words were sharp, loud enough for everyone to hear.

And the driver?

He didn’t yell back. But his response was firm, and filled with quiet emotion.

He stood up. Opened the bus doors. And said, “If this dog’s not welcome, neither am I.”

Then he stepped off — dog and all.

Someone asked him later why he was willing to walk away from his job over it.

His answer?

“He’s my son.”

No hesitation. No irony.

That dog isn’t just a pet. He’s family.

So he goes where his dad goes.
Even if that means riding a bus all day.
Even if that means someone complains.

Because sometimes, love isn’t loud.
Sometimes it’s just a man, his dog, and a bus route they’ve memorized together — side by side.