It was late in the evening when I spotted him by the roadsideâa frail, dirty dog limping weakly along the gutter. His fur was matted with mud, his ribs painfully visible, and his eyes⊠full of fear and exhaustion. It broke my heart. Cars rushed past him, splashing water from the puddles, but he didnât even flinch. He had given up hope. Thatâs when I knewâI couldnât just drive by. It was rescue time.
I pulled over slowly and approached him, speaking softly so he wouldnât run. âHey, buddy⊠itâs okay, Iâm here to help.â His tail gave the faintest wag, but his body trembled. He looked like he hadnât eaten in days. I tossed him a bit of food, and after a few hesitant sniffs, he devoured it desperately. That was the moment I earned a tiny bit of his trust.
Gently, I wrapped him in a towel and carried him to my car. His eyes closed as soon as he felt warmthâfinally safe, finally still. At the vet, the diagnosis was heartbreaking: severe malnutrition, dehydration, and skin infections. But the vet said with care and love, he could recover. That gave me hope.
The next few weeks became a journey of healing. Each day, I cleaned his wounds, gave him medicine, and fed him small meals. Slowly, his fur began to grow back, his eyes brightened, and his tail started wagging whenever he saw me. I named him Luckyâbecause, truly, he was lucky to have survived.
One morning, Lucky did something that made me tear up. He brought me his toy, wagged his tail, and rested his head on my knee. It was his way of saying, âThank you.â The frightened stray had turned into a loving companion.
Every time I look at Lucky nowâhealthy, playful, and full of joyâIâm reminded that sometimes, a little compassion can change an entire life. It really was a âvery stray dog rescue time,â but one that filled my heart with endless gratitude.
