“Please come back right away. Your dog is in distress—she needs air, at least crack a window!”
His response chilled me more than the heat ever could:
I looked again. There was a sealed bottle of water on the floor. Sealed. My frustration boiled over. How could anyone think that was enough?
I grabbed a nearby rock and smashed the window. The alarm blared, but I didn’t care. I reached in, lifted the dog out, and laid her gently on the ground. She collapsed beside me, breathing heavily. I poured water over her, trying to cool her down, and called for help.
Minutes later, the man arrived—furious.
“Are you insane? I’m calling the police!”
And he did.
But when the officers arrived and saw the dog’s condition, everything changed. They listened to both sides, examined the scene, and made their decision.
I hadn’t broken the law.
Instead, they opened a case for animal abuse against the man. He was fined. And then, something I didn’t expect—they shook my hand.
