Introduction

The organ music swelled, sunlight streaming through stained-glass windows, painting colored patterns on the white roses lining the aisle.

It was my wedding day, perfectly planned for over a year, and I was walking down the aisle to marry Mark, the perfect fiancé.

But as I reached the altar, a cold knot formed in my stomach, not the rush of love I expected.

When the priest asked, "Do you, Sarah Miller, take this man, Mark Davis, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I could only think of Betsy, my golden retriever.

Then the word slipped out. "No."

The church erupted in gasps. My mother' s handkerchief fell. Mark' s smile froze. This was because Betsy, my wise, old dog, had refused to come with me this morning. She just sat in the yard and wouldn' t move.

"She knows," I told Mark, pulling my hands from his. "She's always been my sign. Her refusing to come here... it means this is wrong. This marriage is wrong."

The murmuring turned to outright condemnation. "Crazy." "Unbelievable." Mark hissed, "You're calling off our wedding because your dog had a weird morning?"

My father grabbed my arm, threatening, "You are going back in there and finishing this ceremony." I lunged, screaming, "Don't you touch her!"

In that moment, everything changed. I knew I had to act, not just for myself, but for the intuition Betsy represented.

My decision was clear: this wedding was off, and I was walking away from everything I thought I knew.