Around four in the morning, a dog began barking behind the row of houses. By five, the noise grew louder. People stirred awake, grumbling as they prepared for work. By half past, residents were stepping out, their routines disrupted by the relentless sound.
The first to emerge were a man and womanlikely husband and wife. Determined to uncover the cause, they walked toward the garages. There, they spotted the dog, barking fiercely, muzzle fixed on the houses. Behind it, a man lay motionless on the ground. The couple rushed forward, realising the animal was calling for help.
The closer they got, the more aggressive the barks became. It was a German Shepherdstoic, untrusting. The woman insisted they call an ambulance.
Paramedics arrived swiftly. The woman warned them about the dog, but as they approached the injured man, the barking ceased. The Shepherd padded to its owners side and sat, silent.
Kneeling cautiously, the medics kept one eye on the dog. The manyoung, mid-thirtieshad a severe abdominal wound. They worked quickly, stabilising him while the dog watched, unmoving.
A small crowd gathered at a distance. No one dared interfere.
One paramedic fetched a stretcher. They lifted the man carefully, but rules barred the dog from joining. The Shepherd locked eyes with them, unyielding yet understanding. The ambulance pulled away slowly, the dog sprinting behind, weaving between streets until the vehicle vanished.
At the hospital, the ambulance halted at the gate. A guard raised the barrier, but the dog froze.
“Thats the injured blokes dog,” the driver explained.
“And what am I supposed to do with it?” the guard grumbled before barking, “Stay! Sit!”
The Shepherd hesitated, then obeyed. It planted itself by the gate, gaze fixed where the ambulance had disappeared. After an hour, it lay by the wall, unobtrusive.
Guards eyed it warily at first, but when it showed no sign of trespassing, they relaxed.
“What do we do with it?” one muttered.
“Nothing. If it wants to stay, let it.”
“But what if the owners in there for ages?”
“Its clever. Itll leave.”
“Poor thing. Should we feed it?”
“Feed it, and youll never get rid of it.”
The dog watched them, alert.
Forty minutes later, a guard returned with news.
“Owners out of surgery. ICU, but stable.” He set down a bowl of sausage and water near a tree. “Go on, eat.”
The Shepherd staredat the food, the man, the gatethen sat again.
“Suit yourself.”
Eventually, it drank, slow and deliberate.
A week later, the manSimon Fletcherlay recovering in a ward. He missed his companion but had no way of knowing where she was. Theyd served together, left the army together after he was wounded. He trusted her to survive.
Meanwhile, the Shepherd had settled beneath a tree, still guarding the gate. A guard, now bringing her food daily, had an idea. After his shift, he visited Simons room.
“Afternoon. Youre Simon Fletcher?”
“I am. Whats this about?”
“Your dogs still outside. Wont leave. Weve been feeding her, but she wont budge.”
Simon smiled, eyes closing. “Thats my girl. Molly. We served together. Shes sharp.”
“We noticed,” the guard chuckled. “Want me to tell her anything?”
Simon grabbed a tissue, rubbing it over his hands and face. “Take this to her. Shell understand.”
The guard offered the tissue. Molly sniffed it deeply before carrying it beneath the tree, lying atop it like a promise.
Days passed. She waited.
And when Simon finally walked out, her joy was boundless. Theyd endured too much to be parted now.
Shed waited.
