The Growl That Saved Us Both

I found her in a forgotten alley, a place where the city’s refuse and its discarded souls seemed to congregate. She was a vision of neglect, her matted fur caked in mud, tethered by a thick, frayed rope that looked more like a noose than a leash. Her eyes were wide with terror, and as I approached, a guttural sound erupted from her.

A low, warning growl escaped her throat not out of aggression, but as a desperate attempt to protect herself from a world that had only ever shown her cruelty.

My heart broke, but my instinct was to be cautious. I’d seen dogs like this before; fear could easily turn into a bite. I moved slowly, extending a hand, trying to broadcast a message of peace she likely had never known.