While rushing to a meeting one hectic morning, I spotted four muddy, trembling boxer puppies abandoned near a ditch.
Though I was late, I couldn’t drive past. With no homes nearby and only a collapsed box beside them, I bundled them in a hoodie and took them home.
After cleaning them up, I found a tag on one puppy’s worn yellow collar. It read: “Not Yours.” My vet tech friend Tate was alarmed—he’d
seen something like this before. One pup had a microchip linked to an outdated vet clinic. Tate warned these dogs might be linked to illegal breeding or worse.
Fearing for their safety, I kept them hidden. Days later, my worst fears came true—an old truck pulled into my driveway late at night.
Two men got out, one with a leash, the other a flashlight. I locked myself and the puppies in the bathroom and texted my neighbor to call the sheriff.
I overheard them at the door. “We’ll find them—if they’re still alive,” one said. After they left, the sheriff came.
That moment confirmed what I already knew: saving those puppies wasn’t just the right thing to do—it may have saved their lives.
