While driving down a two-lane road, I rounded a curve and narrowly avoided hitting a mother dog and her two puppies. I quickly maneuvered my car into a church parking lot, slamming on the brakes as I jumped out. When I called to the puppies, I was horrified to see they were practically skeletal.
As the adult dog approached, head low, I initially thought she might be a coyote and was terrified. Upon closer examination, I realized she was likely a German Shepherd. I attempted to gather the puppies into my brand new car, but the mom was uncertain about my intentions, and the frantic pups only added to the chaos. Overwhelmed, I called my husband for help, and he arrived with his truck.
Once we got them home, we brought them into the garage and fed them. The mother wouldn’t eat at first; she sat exhausted and starving, only watching her puppies as they ate and went outside to relieve themselves. It wasn’t until they had formed a pile of old blankets and fallen asleep that she finally ventured over on shaky legs to eat and drink. My husband and I exchanged tearful glances; she was so frail, trembling from her ordeal. I couldn’t comprehend how she had endured so much.
A few weeks later, we found loving homes for the puppies, but my husband couldn’t bear to part with her. Remarkably, two years later, she raised four kittens alongside me. Our beloved and devoted friend passed away last year, twelve years after I found her on that road.
When we took her to the vet for the first time, he informed us that she was a near-perfect, if neglected, full-blooded German Shepherd, worth quite a bit of money. We never considered trying to locate her previous owners, as she showed clear signs of severe abuse.
This photo is from her last summer with us—the best dog ever. I’ve always been a cat person, but she treated us like her children, and I miss her every single day.
Credit – Tom Jack✍️
