While walking her dog, a teenage girl named Emily was approached by two men who aggressively offered to “take her for a spin.” She had never seen her dog, Daisy, like this beforeher eyes burned with fury, and her teeth flashed like tiny daggers. Before Emily could even process what was happening, Daisy launched herself at the man who had grabbed the girls arm, knocking him to the ground with a menacing growl, looming over him like a shadow of pure rage.
When Emily turned seven, she was given her own spacious, sunlit bedroom. But she flatly refused to sleep there alone. Every night, one of her parentssometimes her mum, sometimes her dadwould lie beside her until she drifted off. If she woke in the dark to find herself alone, shed bundle up her pillow and blanket and march straight to their room. No amount of pleading or reasoning made a differencenothing changed, even as she grew older.
That was, until one day, the solution rolled right to her feeta tiny, fluffy white ball that yelped in fright before promptly puddling the floor. Up close, it was an utterly adorable puppy, so sweet and helpless that Emily immediately gasped, “Mum, can we keep her? Please?” And so the negotiations began: good grades, a tidy room, walking the pup herself, andmost daunting of allsleeping in her own room without Mum or Dad. The first three terms Emily agreed to without hesitation. The last made her pausebut then it clicked: “I wont be alone anymore!”
And so Daisy came homeofficially a Westie, but in spirit, a proper little lady with a will of steel. To everyones surprise, Emily kept her word. From the moment Daisy arrived, she slept in her own room, and the pup became her steadfast companionthrough dreams and daily routines alike.
Daisy was refinedimmaculately groomed, aware of her charm, every inch a dignified gentlewoman. Other dogs barely warranted a glance, but she tolerated children with patient, almost regal indifference, as if graciously accepting their admiration. Strange dogs, however, were met with bared teeth and an indignant yap of disapproval.
To curb Daisys stubbornness, Emily and her mum enrolled in dog training classes, attending diligently for three weeks. But whether the trainer lacked experience or Daisy was simply too independent, nothing changed. The final verdict? “She sees you as her pack. She doesnt need anyone else.” Fine by themthey were happy as they were.
For walks, Emily and Daisy preferred the overgrown field behind their house, where old barracks once stood. All that remained were crumbling foundations and wild fruit trees. One side of the lot bordered a row of weathered wooden cottages, long past their prime. Most dog owners opted for the proper park nearby, but Emily loved this forgotten nookits air of solitude and freedom.
And it was here that Daisy met her fate.
That summer, Emily turned fifteen, Daisy eight. The girl had grown tall and slender, her head often lost in thought, phone in hand. Daisy, meanwhile, carried herself with the poise of a seasoned matriarch. They wandered the field togetherEmily lost in her mind, Daisy sniffing through the grasswhen suddenly, the ambush came. A shaggy, boisterous beast of a dog barrelled into Daisy, part sheepdog but wilder, boundless energy in every bound. He was a cheerful, oversized oaf, circling her, nudging with his nose, licking her ears, his joy utterly contagious. Daisy stood frozen, baffled by this brazen intruder.
“Dont be scared, love!” called a silver-haired woman leaning on a cane as she hurried over. “Hes playful, but gentle. Never bitten a soul!”
“Clearly,” Emily laughed, crouching as the exuberant fluffball licked her hands, his tail whipping up dust. “The only danger here is death by slobber!”
“You know, Id only ever let him out in the yard before. But my grandson visited yesterday and took him outhe was so happy! Thought Id do the same. Then he spotted your girl and off he went.”
“And mine hasnt taken her eyes off him. Think shes smitten!”
“Well, isnt that lovely? Twos merrier than one. His names Buster. Im Margaret.”
From that evening on, Buster joined their walks. Sometimes hed be waiting at the field; if late, Daisy would trill a sharp barkand within moments, hed come charging. They chased through the grass, tumbled in the dirt, played until worn out. Emily brought a blanket, spreading it under the apple tree to read while the dogs, noses touching, dozed beside her. Occasionally, Margaret joined them, bringing biscuits, settling on the edge of the blanket to chat. Emily listened eagerlythe old woman lived alone, her son and grandson visiting rarely. Shed gotten Buster five years prior, expecting a lapdog. Instead, hed grown into a giant.
“Wouldnt manage without my sons help. Feeding him on my pension aloneproper challenge,” Margaret sighed, as Buster gazed up at her with adoring eyes.
As September arrived, their walks shifted to evenings. One night, as they stepped into the fieldBuster nowhere in sighta black SUV roared over the uneven ground, music blaring, three drunk lads inside. Two stumbled out, weaving toward Emily, flanking her.
She backed under the apple tree, quickly activating her phones recorder and slipping it into her pocket. Then, whispering to Daisy:
“Get Buster. Now.”
Her only hope was that hed hear.
Daisy needed no urgingshe erupted into deep, furious barks, a call for help.
“Brilliant!” one lad crowed, grinning. “Glad we stopped!”
“Proper little terror!” his mate agreed, just as Daisy snarled, lip curled, teeth gleaming.
“Why stand around?” the first one said, suddenly grabbing Emilys arm. “Come on, lets go for a ride. Promise well bring you back in one piece.”
“Or mostly,” the other laughed, seizing her other arm.
“Lads, you wont like what happens next,” Emily said flatly, buying time. “Another dogs coming. Best leave while youre still in one piece.”
“What, another mongrel?” one sneered, kicking Daisy aside before dragging Emily toward the car. “Come on, hope youre at least a laugh!”
“Maybe shell bite,” the other jeered, slapping her thigh. But the fun ended abruptlythe next instant, he was flung aside as if hit by a battering ram. Buster slammed into him full-force.
Emily had never seen him like thiseyes bloodshot, foam frothing at his jaws, teeth bared like a wild thing. Before anyone could react, Buster lunged at the one holding Emily, snarling, pinning him down beneath his massive weight.
The other lad scrambled back to the SUV, dove inside, and sped off into the night.
Emily stopped the recording and dialed the police.
When officers arrived, they found the first assailant still on the ground, drenched in slobber, trembling.
“Enough, Buster, thats enough,” Emily said softly, gripping his collar. “Ugh. Dont choke on that filth. Let him golet him dry his trousers.”
The police hauled the lad away, damp stains glaring on his jeans.
As autumn deepened, the evenings grew colder. One night, Emily and Daisy returned to the fieldbut Buster wasnt there. Daisy barked, as always, but no reply came. When they reached Margarets cottage, an ambulance stood at the gate. The old woman was carried out on a stretcher.
“Taken poorly,” a neighbor explained. “Coughing for days, could barely walk. Then today, Buster started howling like madhes usually so quiet. I rushed over, found her unconscious, feverish Called an ambulance. Hope she pulls through.”
“She will. Ill visit tomorrow,” Emily said.
“God willing But the dogIve got a terrier. Two males wouldnt mix.”
“Well take him. Its tight, but my parents wont say no.”
Buster, though thrilled by Daisys company, remained subdued. Every time Emily returned from the hospital, hed rush to the door, hope in his eyeswaiting to hear, “Come on, shes waiting!”
Margaret recovered slowly. One day, Emily brought her a tablet. From then on, Buster “visited” via video callssniffing the screen at first, then wagging, finally sitting still, watching intently. Margaret laughed, stroking the air as if scratching his head. It eased both their hearts.
Soon, her son arrived. After questioning Emily, he thanked her and said:
“Were taking Mum home. Cant leave her alone anymore. But theres no space for Buster. Three-bed flat, five of us, now Mum Just no room.”
“Dont worry. Hes already ours. Just keep the tabletlet the calls continue. For Buster and Margaret both.”
Autumn rustled underfoot, rain
