It was a quiet morning on the family farm. The sky was painted with soft strokes of orange and pink, and the dew still clung to the grass. But inside the small wooden barn, things were far from peaceful. BiBi, the family’s beloved dog, lay curled in a corner, breathing heavily. Her usually shiny fur was dull, and her eyes, once bright and playful, now seemed tired and distant.
Uncle Phong sat beside her, gently stroking her head. “Come on, BiBi,” he whispered. “You’re strong. You’ve always been strong.”
For the past week, BiBi hadn’t been eating well. She was losing weight quickly, and the vet had tried two different medicines, but nothing seemed to help. Uncle Phong had raised BiBi from a puppy. She had followed him everywhere—through the rice fields, across the hills, even into the busy market when he sold vegetables. BiBi was more than just a pet. She was family.
Dad Quan arrived shortly after sunrise. He was a tall, calm man with kind eyes. He had studied agriculture and animal care, and the villagers often called him when animals got sick.
Uncle Phong stood up when he saw him. “Quan, I’m glad you came,” he said. “BiBi’s getting worse. She can barely lift her head now.”
Quan kneeled beside BiBi and gently examined her. “She’s weak,” he said quietly. “Her heart’s beating fast. Has she had any appetite?”
“Barely,” Uncle Phong replied. “She only drank a little water yesterday. And she hasn’t barked in days.”
Quan nodded, deep in thought. “We’ve tried the usual treatments. Maybe it’s time to try something different. There’s a place in the mountains—an herbalist who helps sick animals. It’s far, but I think it’s worth the trip.”
Uncle Phong hesitated. “Can we move her? Won’t the trip be too much?”
“I’ll build a soft carrier and bring warm blankets,” Quan said. “If we leave early tomorrow, we can reach the herbalist before nightfall. I’ll take my motorbike and drive carefully.”
Uncle Phong sighed and looked at BiBi. “Alright. Let’s try it. I’ll do anything to help her.”
That night, they packed everything they needed. Auntie Lan, Uncle Phong’s wife, prepared boiled rice and chicken soup in a thermos. Little Nam, Uncle Phong’s son, carefully packed BiBi’s favorite blanket—the one with little paw prints on it.
Before sunrise, Dad Quan gently lifted BiBi into the padded carrier. She gave a soft whimper but didn’t resist. Uncle Phong placed a kiss on her forehead. “Be strong, girl,” he whispered. “We’re doing this for you.”
The journey to the mountain village was long and winding. Quan drove slowly, stopping every hour to check on BiBi. She lay quietly in her carrier, eyes half open, her breathing shallow.
By late afternoon, they reached the herbalist’s home, a small wooden hut surrounded by thick trees and the sound of birdsong. The herbalist, a kind woman named Ba Nhi, welcomed them with a gentle smile.
“I’ve heard of BiBi,” she said. “The famous farm dog who once saved a lost calf. Let me see her.”
Ba Nhi had spent her life learning about plants and animal healing from her grandfather. She carefully examined BiBi, feeling her paws, looking into her mouth, and listening to her chest.
“She’s fighting something deep inside,” Ba Nhi said. “It may be her liver. The medicines you used were good, but they don’t work for every animal. I’ll make her a special tea using wild herbs that grow only near the waterfall.”
Ba Nhi disappeared into the forest for an hour. When she returned, she carried a bundle of fresh herbs—bitter leaves, roots, and tiny flowers with a sharp smell.
She brewed the tea slowly, letting it simmer in a clay pot over a wood fire. The smell filled the hut—earthy, strong, and somehow comforting.
BiBi was too weak to drink, so Ba Nhi used a tiny spoon to feed her the tea drop by drop.
“Be patient,” she said. “It will take time.”
For two days, Quan and BiBi stayed with Ba Nhi. BiBi slowly began responding. Her eyes were still tired, but she looked around more often. On the third day, she drank the tea herself. By the fourth, she sat up for a few minutes.
When Uncle Phong came to visit, his eyes filled with tears. “BiBi,” he said, kneeling beside her. “You’re getting better.”
BiBi gave a soft bark—the first in over a week.
Back at the farm, everyone waited eagerly. When BiBi returned, the neighbors came to visit her. They brought eggs, fruits, and even handmade toys. Children drew pictures of her with crayons, showing her running through fields again.
“She’s our village hero,” one old woman said.
Uncle Phong nodded. “She is. And Dad Quan helped save her.”
In the weeks that followed, BiBi continued to improve. She ate small meals and walked short distances. Uncle Phong took her out in the sun every morning and talked to her like before.
Dad Quan stayed involved, checking in every day. He also started studying traditional herbal medicine. “There’s so much knowledge in these hills,” he said. “Maybe I can blend modern care with traditional wisdom.”
Soon, other villagers brought their animals to him—sick chickens, injured goats, even a cat with a broken paw. With Ba Nhi’s guidance, Quan developed new herbal mixtures that worked alongside modern treatments.
And as for BiBi? By the end of the month, she was running again—not as fast as before, but with a happy wag in her tail. She even chased a butterfly one morning, making Uncle Phong laugh out loud.
“I thought I lost you,” he said, hugging her tight.
BiBi barked twice and licked his cheek.
