Around four in the morning, a dog began barking behind the row of houses. By five, the barks grew louder. People stirred awake, grumbling as they prepared for work. By half past five, residents were already stepping out, their routines disrupted by the noise.
First to investigate were a man and womanlikely husband and wife. They wandered toward the garages and spotted the animal, barking relentlessly, its snout fixed on the houses. Behind it, a figure lay crumpled on the pavement. The couple hurried forward, realising the dog was calling for help.
The closer they got, the fiercer its barks becamea stern German shepherd, not one to approach lightly. The woman suggested ringing for an ambulance.
Paramedics arrived swiftly. As they stepped out, the woman warned them about the dog. Yet when they neared the injured man, the barking ceased. The dog padded to its owners side and sat silently, watching.
The medics knelt carefully, keeping one eye on the shepherd. The man, youngmid-thirtieswas bleeding heavily from a wound in his abdomen. They worked fast, stabilising him as the dog observed, unblinking.
A small crowd had gathered at a safe distance. No one dared interfere.
One paramedic fetched a stretcher. They lifted the man gently, but rules forbade taking the dog. It stared as they loaded him in, then bolted after the ambulance as it pulled away, weaving between streets, sometimes lagging, sometimes keeping pace.
At the hospital, the ambulance halted at the gate. The guard raised the barrier, but the dog froze before him.
“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 but obeyed, planting itself by the gate as the ambulance vanished inside. After an hour, it curled up near the wall, out of the way.
Security kept watch at first, but when it became clear the dog wouldnt trespass, they ignored it.
“What do we do with it?” one asked.
“Nothing. If it wants to stay, let it.”
“But what if the owners in there ages?”
“Its clever. Itll leave.”
“Poor thing. Should we feed it?”
“Feed it once, and youll never get rid of it.”
The dog watched them, ears pricked.
Forty minutes later, a guard returned with news.
“Blokes out of surgery. ICU, but stable. Brought it some food.”
He set down a dish of sausage and water near a tree. The dog stared but didnt move.
“Go on, eat. Waters there.” The guard fumbled for commands.
The dog rose but hesitated, eyeing the man, the food, the gatethen sat again.
“Suit yourself.”
Slowly, it crept forward and lapped at the water.
A week later, the ownernow in a recovery wardmissed his companion but had no way of knowing its fate.
Theyd been together since he left the army after an injury. Theyd served, then returned to civilian life side by side. He trusted the dogs cleverness to survive.
Meanwhile, the shepherd had shifted its vigil beneath a tree. One guard, now feeding it regularly, had an idea.
After his shift, he knocked on the mans door.
“Afternoon. Youre Mr. Dawson, James?”
“I am. Whats happened?”
“Security at the hospital. Your dogs still out there waiting. Weve been feeding her, but she wont budge.”
James smiled, eyes shut.
“Shes mine. Millie. Served together. Shes sharp as a tack.”
“We noticed,” the guard chuckled, relieved. “Want me to tell her anything?”
James grabbed a tissue, rubbing it over his hands and face.
“Take this bag to Millie. Shell understand.”
The guard offered the bag. The dog sniffed the tissue for a long moment before carrying it beneath the tree, lying atop it like a treasure.
In the days that followed, Millie waited. And when James finally walked out, their reunion was a whirl of wagging tails and unshaken loyalty. Theyd been through worse. Waiting was nothing.
And she had waited.
