**Diary Entry**
It was just another ordinary day at St. Marys Hospital in London. The reception hummed softly with the murmur of nurses admitting patients, doctors exchanging quiet words in the corridors, and IV drips steadily ticking away in the wards.
I was reviewing the appointment log when suddenly, the sharp click of claws against linoleum echoed down the hallway. Out of nowhere, a dog appeareda large, reddish-brown mastiff, moving with purpose as though it knew exactly where it was going. Clenched firmly in its jaws was a black plastic bag, tightly knotted at the top.
I looked up sharply. “What on earth is a dog doing here? This is completely unsanitary! Someone get it out!”
Two doctorsMr. Thompson, the surgeon, and Nurse Abigailheard my shout and rushed to intercept. But the dog was quicker, darting past them without sparing a glance at the startled patients lining the corridor.
People peeked out from their rooms, some laughing, others whispering in confusion, but the dog ignored them all. Then, abruptly, it stopped at a door marked in bold red letters. The bag slipped from its mouth and hit the floor. The dog whined pitifully before breaking into sharp, desperate barks. It rose onto its hind legs, scratching at the door as though begging to be let in.
By the time the doctors caught up, the truth hit us like a brick.
I knelt, breathless, and carefully untied the bag. Inside lay a tiny, barely breathing puppy, its leg twisted at an unnatural angle, fur matted with blood.
“He he brought it here for help,” Mr. Thompson murmured.
Later, we pieced it togetherthe puppy had been hit by a car near the hospital. The mastiff, clearly its mother, had somehow known this was where help could be found.
There was no veterinary theatre, but kindness prevailed. Mr. Thompson and two others improvised, sterilising tools and setting the leg. A splint was applied, pain relief administered.
All of us were stunned by the dogs intelligence, its fierce determination. While we worked, it sat by the door, whimpering softly, eyes never leaving its pup.
When it was over, and the puppy was carried out, the mastiff gently licked its face, then rested its head beside itcomforting, protecting. A mothers love needs no words.
