Yes, dogs are incredibly loyal! But their loyalty is reserved for those who truly love them they do not forgive betrayal
Maisie ran after the car, desperate not to be left alone in a strange place. She didnt want to be abandoned and forgotten.
She chased after the person she loved, the one shed trusted completely. Someone she could never betray, simply because she didnt know how to.
Chloe, meet Maisie! Tom said brightly, grinning as he introduced his dog to the young woman in her early twenties, standing at the door in sparkling heels that gave her almost a heads advantage over Tom.
Shes gentle and very well-behaved, so I think you two will get on well. Actually, Im sure of it!
Maisie wagged her tail enthusiastically at her owners feet, but eyed Chloe with concern.
Its normal for dogs to be wary of strangers, but this felt different. Maisie could sense something unpleasant, something repellent about the girl.
It had nothing to do with the cloying sweet perfume, so strong it could be considered a weapon of mass destruction. Dogs have that uncanny ability: they can simply tell when someone isnt good.
Maisies sense for such people was practically supernatural. Her instinct never failed her.
When she met questionable people out on walks, Maisie always tried to steer Tom away from them, often tugging him along against his own wishes. She loved her owner deeply and wanted his happiness, no matter what.
But it was hard to escape in a small two-bedroom flat. Besides, Tom was always gentle and affectionate with Chloe.
He hugged her. Kissed her
Noticing Maisies distrustful gaze, Chloe took Tom by the hand, led him to the kitchen, and, closing the door, whispered:
Why didnt you mention you had a dog?
There just didnt seem a reason to, Tom whispered back. Is there a problem?
Yes, I do have a problem! I dont like dogs, and I cant live in a flat withwhat did you say her name was?
Maisie…
Maisie.
What do you expect me to do? Throw her out on the street? Weve been together four years. Or maybe five, Ive lost track. But ages!
Tom Chloe looked at him pointedly, making it clear the subject was closed. As long as that dogs here, Im not moving in. And therell be no wedding, either.
I really cant stand dogs, you must understand. I cant abide them. Its up to you decide whats more important: me or the dog.
Rain was coming down in torrents. The wipers furiously swept water off the windscreen, almost as if they hated the rain as much as Tom did as he sped through the city at night, his face gloomier than the clouds overhead.
And that feeling as if someone had dumped a bucket of waste into his soul. Like hed been forced to do something so awful, he could hardly bear it.
But he loved Chloe, or so he believed, and had even dared to dream about marriage. Perhaps he didnt love her, but that hardly mattered now.
What mattered was that Chloes father had promised to sort out all the troubles with Toms struggling business, and the man was influentiala promise from him wasnt empty words. If he said hed help, help would come.
It was a real chance not just to survive, but maybe even to grow his small construction company. To finally succeed. It would be foolish, truly foolish, to refuse such an opportunity.
Out past the city limits, Tom pressed his foot harder on the accelerator. The rain grew heavier, and so did the gusting wind.
Raindrops drummed against the glass, the roof, the bonnet, as if they were trying to stop Tom. Think again! they seemed to shout, pelting the metal.
Maisie lay on the back seat, gazing at the water streaking down the window. Her instincts hadnt let her down. Since the stranger had arrived, her owner had changed. He had grown cold, as cold as the autumn rain. He barely spoke to her; there were no gentle strokes on her fur. He was becoming a stranger.
Pulling over to the roadside, Tom lit a cigarette. Smoke curled throughout the car.
He pulled up his hood and stepped outside. Maisie waited anxiously to see what would happen next.
Everything unfolded like a script: the back door flung open suddenly, letting out a cloud of choking smoke to swirl away into the darkness. Tom grabbed Maisie by her collar and pulled her out. She whimpered.
There were two loud slams: first the back door, then the front.
The car leapt away, turned, and sped toward the city, great raindrops still pelting the metal roof.
Maisie, left alone in the middle of the road, stared after the car in confusion. The rain battered her dry coat, greedy to soak up every last strand of fur.
And she ran. Maisie bolted after the car, refusing to be left alone in this unfamiliar place. She ran after the one she loved and had trusted with all her heart, after the person she could never betray.
Because Maisie simply couldnt betray. But she was no match for a car eating up the miles at sixty miles per hour this wasnt cheetah speed, she was just an ordinary dog.
Even her waterlogged fur, weighing her down by several kilos, slowed her desperate chase.
The scarlet taillights had long vanished into the dark, but Maisie just kept running, unable to stop.
Sometimes, when you need most to stop but cant, fate intervenes and pulls the brakes for you. Not from cruelty, but because chasing the past is futile.
Suddenly, there was the screech of brakes and a dull thud. The driver jumped out and clutched his head in both hands as he came to a halt.
There, on the wet tarmac, lay a dog. He approached cautiously and looked into her eyes.
Eyes that still shone with trust, but with every second the confidence seeped away, replaced by sadness and despair.
Thank goodness, shes alive! Alan thought.
He quickly opened the car door, laid his coat on the seat, and gently picked Maisie up, placing her on the makeshift bed.
It was late, so the only place for help was the citys round-the-clock veterinary clinic. Thats where he went. Occasionally, he glanced at the dog, whose hind legs twitched as if she was still running in her dreams.
The vet agreed to see the late-night patient without charging for the initial check. Alan fumbled through an explanation when asked what had happened.
Being experienced, the vet understood at once she had simply been dumped. It happened far too often in town, and sadly, it wouldnt be the last.
Fortunately, there were no serious injuries. Just bruises. The vet prescribed a special ointment and recommended ice packs for the swelling.
Alan carried the dog up to his flat and, dropping his jacket on the floor, tucked her up comfortably.
Its only for a while, he told Maisie apologetically. By the tenth day, she was beginning to recover. She still had a limp, but she could walk, and that was what counted. The limp would pass in time.
Were you thrown out onto the street? Alan asked her aloud, sitting beside her on the bed.
Hed never had a dog. Or friends with dogs. In fact, he hardly had friends at all anymore. Hed been let down too many times.
One friend had brazenly stolen away his girlfriend; another had left him high and dry in business, forcing him to declare bankruptcy. A third had dragged him into a dodgy scheme, leaving Alan in serious trouble with the police.
Thankfully, it had all worked out, and Alan, determined to start afresh, had moved to another city.
For every dog question, he relied on the advice of the vet, who gave him a business card and told him to phone with any concerns.
Thanks to the vets advice, Alan gently bathed Maisie and cleaned away all the grime.
Hed braced for trouble, but Maisie accepted the bath without fuss or aggression.
Then came questions about food; twice he took her for check-ups to ensure there was no lasting trauma.
Alan worried constantly: Maisie ate poorly, just lay around all day, and barely seemed to notice Alan was even there.
It happens, the vet explained.
Dr. Turner suggested more walks to help her recover.
Just spend time with her. Dont expect anything in return. In time, shell come round. You may even become friends.
And, just as Dr. Turner said, old wounds even those of the heart began to heal. A month and a half after that roadside meeting, Alan and Maisie had become friends.
Maybe not best friends yet, but Maisie trusted him now, and had even started eating properly. In fact, she felt so different, shed become Daisy.
A new life with a new name, as they say. She took to the new name quickly, perhaps because it sounded much like the old one. Or perhaps the old name carried too many unhappy memories.
Each day, regardless of the weather, they walked together through the neighbourhood, happy in each others company.
Only when it rained did Daisys eyes look sad and a little wet. Wet, not from the rain, but from memories.
Yes, it can be hard to forget such things. A dog isnt a person, but they certainly feel human emotions. Anyone who says otherwise has never had a dog.
One day, as they were out in the park, Daisy darted off to chase some cats, as dogs love to do, while Alan bought his coffee. November was especially cold, so a hot drink was a welcome comfort, if only a small one.
When he turned around, Daisy was nowhere in sight.
He set his coffee down and dashed off in search of Daisy, not sure which way to run, only certain that he had to.
Meanwhile, Daisy was barking up a tree at a cat, clearly inviting it to come down for another round of chase.
A black Range Rover pulled up, and Tom stepped out.
He was heading for the shops, but something stopped him in his tracks.
Maisie! he called.
Daisy didnt respond straightaway. But then she heard her old name again, recognised something familiar in the voice, and turned to look at Tom.
Maisie, come! Come here, girl! her ex-owner crouched down, smiling broadly, calling her over.
Daisy wanted to rush over, to cuddle up to him, but something held her back. Who can tell what goes on in a dogs mind in these moments? But theyre certainly thinking.
He betrayed her! Left her all alone Or did he? Maybe she got it wrong, maybe hed been searching all this time and had only now found her?!
Her tail gave a hesitant wag was it joy, tension, confusion?
Seeing her uncertainty, Tom hopped the fence and approached her, extending his hand.
Maisie! Maisie, darling! Im so glad I found you! Come here, now!
He started stroking her and pulling her towards him, but she didnt resist. She just didnt feel any joy in the meeting. She didnt wag, didnt bounce around, didnt fuss.
Something stopped her from feeling happy, just as she used to. Something held her back.
Alan, running past, saw a man dragging Daisy by the collar toward the car.
What do you think youre doing? Thats my dog! Alan ran up and grabbed Tom by the shoulder, spinning him around to face him.
What are you playing at? Alan repeated, more firmly this time. This is my dog!
Really?
What do you mean, really? Daisy, come here!
She took a tentative step towards Alan, but Tom held firmly to her collar.
Daisy? Shes Maisie! Shes mine I raised her from a puppy and then
And then what? Alan pressed, beginning to understand.
Thats none of your business. Shes my dog and Im taking her back, got it?
No, youre not. Shes staying with me! End of discussion. Dont push your luck.
Excuse me?!
Toms eyes bulged with rage, his face red he raised a hand as if to strike, but the dog, whod been passive throughout the standoff between her two owners old and new suddenly began to growl menacingly. She broke away and turned on Tom, baring her teeth.
Tom froze in shock more shocked than afraid, as Maisie, now Daisy, had never behaved like that with him before. Shed never so much as growled or snapped.
She had never looked at him with that fierce gaze before, a gaze full of resolve, a readiness to fight if she had to. He slowly backed away.
Daisy, its alright. Lets go, Alan said quietly.
The dog walked over, nuzzled his hand, and then bowed her head to let him clip her lead on.
They walked away together, down the autumn-strewn path, never once glancing back. Tom watched them go, fists clenched in powerless anger.
It hadnt worked out with Chloe: no wedding, no help from her father he ended up selling the firm to clear his debts. He could never forgive himself for what hed done that night. But there was nothing left to change.
Yes, dogs are loyal. But only to those who love them. And once you betray their trust, you never truly earn it back.
In the end, loyalty is a gift, not a guarantee from a friend, from a pet, or from anyone. Treasure it, because once lost, it might be lost for good.
