**Diary Entry**
It happened while I was walking my dog. Two men stopped beside mea high school girland forcefully offered to “take me for a spin.” Id never seen my dog like this before: her eyes burned with rage, her teeth bared threateningly. Before I could even process what was happening, she lunged at the man who had grabbed my arm, knocking him down with a menacing growl, looming over him like a shadow of fury.
When I turned seven, Mum and Dad gave me my own spacious, bright bedroom. But I flat-out refused to sleep there alone. Every night, one of themsometimes Mum, sometimes Dadwould lie with me until I fell asleep. If I woke up in the dark and found myself alone, Id grab my pillow and blanket and march straight to their room. No amount of pleading, no “grown-up talks” made a difference. Nothing changed, even as I got older.
Until one day, the solution tumbled into my lifea tiny white fluffball who yelped in fright and promptly piddled on the floor. Up close, she was the most adorable little pup, so sweet I immediately begged, “Mum, can we keep her?” Thus began the negotiations: good grades, keeping my room tidy, walking her on my own, andmost dauntingsleeping in my own room without Mum or Dad. I agreed instantly to the first three, hesitated at the last, then realised, “But I wont be alone anymore!”
Thats how Lady came into our livesofficially a Westie, but in spirit, a proper little madam with a will of iron. And to everyones surprise, I kept my word. From the day Lady arrived, I slept in my own room, and she became my constant companionthrough dreams and daily routines alike.
Lady was a true beauty: pristine, aware of her charm, behaving like a proper gentlewoman. She ignored most other dogs but tolerated children who wanted to pet her with patient, almost regal graceas if humouring their admiration. But if another dog dared approach? Teeth out, indignant yaps at the ready.
To adjust her behaviour, Mum and I enrolled in dog training. Three weeks of diligent classes later, nothing had changedwhether the trainer lacked experience or Lady was simply too stubborn. The final verdict? “She sees you as her pack. She doesnt need anyone else.” Fine by us. The three of us got on just fine.
For walks, Lady and I chose the overgrown field behind our house. Once home to old barracks, long since demolished, it was now just crumbling foundations and wild fruit trees. One side bordered a row of weathered wooden housesbuildings on their last legs. Most dog owners preferred the neat, fenced park nearby, but Lady and I loved this forgotten patch, with its air of freedom and solitude.
And it was here that Lady met her fate.
That summer, I turned fifteen; Lady, eight. Id grown tall and lanky, lost in daydreams, phone always in hand. Lady carried herself like a confident, dignified lady. We strolled the field togetherme lost in thought, her sniffing the grasswhen suddenly, the attack came! A huge, shaggy beast of a dog barrelled toward her, part sheepdog but wilder, bursting with relentless energy. A boisterous, oversized goof, he bounded around Lady, nudging, licking, electrifying the air with his joy. Lady stood frozen, utterly bewildered.
“Dont worry, love!” called an elderly woman, leaning on a cane as she hurried over. “Hes playful but gentle. Never bitten a soul!”
“I can see that,” I laughed, crouching as the enthusiastic fluffball licked my hands, tail whipping up dust. “The only danger here is death by slobber!”
“Hes only been in the yard till now. But my grandson visited yesterday and let him outhe was so happy! Thought Id bring him proper. But the moment he spotted your girl, off he went.”
“And mine cant take her eyes off him. Think shes smitten?”
“Well, isnt that lovely! Twos merrier than one. His names Duke. Im Margaret.”
From that evening on, Duke became a regular on our walks. Sometimes hed wait at the field; if late, Lady would trill a high-pitched summonsand hed come tearing toward us. They chased through the grass, wrestled, rolled in the dirt.
I brought a blanket, spread it under the apple tree, and read while they played. Once worn out, theyd flop beside me, noses touching. Sometimes Margaret joined us, bringing biscuits, perching on the edge to share stories. I loved listeningshe lived alone, her son and grandson visiting rarely. Shed gotten Duke five years ago, thinking hed stay small. Instead, hed grown into a giant.
“Couldnt manage without my sons help. Feeding him on a pension? Proper challenge,” shed sigh, while Duke gazed at her with adoring eyes.
By September, walks shifted to evenings. One night, just as we stepped onto the field, a black SUV roared over the bumps, music blaring, three drunk lads inside. Two staggered out, weaving toward me.
I backed under the apple tree, quickly switched my phone to record, and pocketed it. Then I whispered to Lady:
“Call Duke. Now.”
My only hope was that shed hear.
No encouragement neededLady erupted into deep, urgent barks, crying for help.
“Brilliant!” one lad cheered, grinning. “Glad we came!”
“Proper little firecracker!” his mate agreed, and at the word, Ladys snarl turned vicious, teeth bared.
“Why stand around?” the first one said, suddenly grabbing my arm. “Come on, lets go for a ride. Promise well bring you back mostly.”
“Lads, you wont like what happens next,” I said flatly, buying time. “Another dogs coming. Best scarper while youre still in one piece.”
“What, another mutt?” he scoffed, kicking Lady aside before yanking me toward the car. “Come on, hope youre at least fun!”
“Maybe shell bite us!” the other laughed, slapping my thighuntil an instant later, he was flung aside like a ragdoll.
Id never seen Duke like this: eyes bloodshot, froth at his mouth, teeth flashing like hed tear flesh. Before anyone could react, he slammed into my captor, snarling, pinning him down like a furious four-legged avalanche.
The other lad scrambled into the SUV, doors slamming, tires screeching as they fled.
I stopped the recording and called the police.
The first attacker lay pinned under Duke, soaked in drool, trembling. When officers arrived, thats exactly what they found.
“Enough, Duke, its all right,” I said softly, gripping his collar. “Ugh! Dont choke on this filth. Let him golet him stew in his pants.”
The officers hauled him away, damp patches glaring on his jeans.
Holding Duke, I knelt, one hand stroking his heaving muzzle, the other hugging Lady, who still trembled, whining up at me as if asking, “Safe now?”
“Your mum said you couldnt even growl” I murmured, leaning into Duke. “Oh, you can. Thank you, my hero.”
October evenings grew colder. One night, Lady and I returned to the fieldbut no Duke. She barked cheerfully, but no reply came. At Margarets gate, an ambulance stood. They carried her out on a stretcher.
“Taken poorly,” a neighbour explained. “Coughing for days, barely moving. Then today, Duke started howling like madhes quiet usually, never barks for nothing. I rushed over, found her unconscious, burning up Called an ambulance. Hope she pulls through.”
“She will. Ill visit tomorrow,” I said.
“God willing But the dogIve got a male of my own. Two wouldnt mix.”
“Well take him. Its tight, but Ill talk to my parentsthey wont say no.”
Duke, in his new home, revelled in Ladys company but never shook his sadness. Every time I returned from visiting Margaret, hed bolt to the door, eyes hopefulwaiting for, “Come on, shes waiting!”
As Margaret improved, I brought her a tablet. Now Duke “visited” via video calls. At first, he sniffed the screen, then wagged, then sat motionless, watching. Margaret laughed, stroking the air as if petting him. Both their hearts lightened.
Days later, her son arrived. He thanked me, then said:
“Were taking Mum home. Cant leave her alone. But no space for Duke. Three-bed flat, five of us, now Mum Just no room.”
“Dont worry. Hes ours nowMum and Dad agreed. Just keep the tablet. Let the calls continue. For Duke. For her.”
Autumn rustled underfoot
