The post gathered attention quickly. Comments flooded in, full of heartbreak and disbelief. “So sorry.” “That’s devastating.” “Nature is cruel sometimes.” Dozens of kind messages arrived, but they all read like goodbyes. Not one person truly believed Pablo was still out there. Samantha read every word with a heavy chest.
Someone suggested she call wildlife control. Another posted a link to an article about predatory birds. A few said, “You just never know”—but even those were laced with finality. They were trying to be kind, but every reply chipped away at what little hope she had left.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Maybe the eagle dropped him. Maybe he wriggled free. Maybe he was hiding somewhere, frightened and cold. It was unlikely—she knew that. But every time she closed her eyes, she pictured Pablo out there, alive, waiting for her to find him.
Amid the flood of condolences on Facebook, a few good samaritans commented with something else: offers to help. Strangers. One said they had a drone. Another offered boots and a flashlight. Samantha replied with trembling fingers, giving them the address of the local diner as a meeting point.