Around four in the morning, a dog began barking behind the row of houses. By five, the barking grew louder. People stirred awake, grumbling as they readied for work. Half past five, and the first bleary-eyed commuters stepped out into the chilly dawn.
The earliest were a man and womanlikely husband and wifewho decided to see what all the fuss was about. They wandered toward the garages and spotted the animal, barking relentlessly, its muzzle aimed at the homes. Behind it, a figure lay motionless on the pavement. The couple hurried forward, realising the dog was calling for help.
The closer they got, the fiercer its barks became. It was a German Shepherd, stern and wary, not one to welcome strangers. The woman suggested ringing for an ambulance.
Paramedics arrived swiftly. The woman warned them about the dog, but as they neared the injured man, the barking ceased. The Shepherd padded to its owner and sat beside him, silent now, watching.
The medics knelt carefully, keeping one eye on the dog. The manyoung, mid-thirtieswas bleeding heavily from a stomach wound. They worked fast, stabilising him. The dog just watched.
A small crowd had gathered at a safe distance. No one dared approach.
One paramedic fetched a stretcher. They lifted the man gently, but rules barred the dog from joining. It stared as they loaded him in, then bolted after the ambulance as it pulled away, weaving through the streets, sometimes falling behind, sometimes catching up.
At the hospital gates, the ambulance paused. A guard lifted the barrier, but the dog halted 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, then obeyed. It sat by the gate, tracking the ambulance until it vanished inside. After an hour, it curled up by the wall, out of the way.
The guards kept watch at first, but seeing it wouldnt cause trouble, they left it be.
“What do we do with it?” one asked.
“Nothing. If it wants to stay, let it.”
“But what if the owners in for ages?”
“Its clever. Itll leave soon.”
“Poor thing. Should we feed it?”
“Feed it, and youll never get rid of it.”
The dog just watched, 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 plate 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 stood but hesitated, glancing between the man, the food, and the gate. Then it sat again.
“Suit yourself.”
Slowly, the dog crept to the bowl and drank.
A week later, the owner was in a ward, recovering. He missed his companion but had no way of knowing where it was.
Theyd been together since he left the army after an injury. Theyd served, then returned to civilian life side by side. He hoped the clever thing would manage alone.
Meanwhile, the Shepherd had shifted beneath a tree, still guarding the gate. One guard had started feeding itthen had an idea.
After his shift, he visited the mans room.
“Afternoon. Youre Mr. Wilson, James?”
“I am. Whats happened?”
“Hospital security. Your dogs still outside, waiting. Weve fed her, but she wont leave.”
James smiled, eyes closing.
“Shes mine, yes. Millie. We served together. Shes sharp as a tack.”
“We noticed,” the guard laughed, 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 handed it over. Millie 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 blur of wagging tails and laughter. Theyd been through too much to give up now.
And she had waited.
