**A Dogs Loyalty**
Exhausted, the dog stumbled out of the woods with a backpack strapped to his side. Its contents would soon send shockwaves through the local police station.
«Thunder, come!» called his owner, Edward Whitmore.
The dog wagged his tail excitedly. These woodland excursions were their shared joyEdward foraging for mushrooms while Thunder chased squirrels and explored new scents.
That morning was specialcrisp yet sunny, with a delicate mist clinging to the tops of the pines. Perfect for a «silent hunt,» as foragers called their pastime. Edward packed quickly: a thermos of tea, a few sandwiches, a knife, and a basket. At the last moment, he tossed in an old notepad and pencila habit from his days as a surveyor.
The first two hours passed blissfully. The basket grew heavy with sturdy porcini and golden chanterelles. Thunder darted ahead, circling back now and then with a happy bark to report his discoveries.
«Alright, boy, one more hour and then home?» Edward ruffled the dogs scruff, pulling out his phone to photograph a particularly striking boletus.
*No signal.* The screen flashed indifferently.
«No matter, well be back in range soon,» he muttered, snapping the photo before tucking the phone away.
They wandered deeper into unfamiliar woods. Ancient trees stood so densely that sunlight barely touched the ground. Fallen trunks, blanketed in moss, littered the path.
«Thunder, stay close,» Edward commanded, unease creeping in.
Thensudden and tragichis foot slipped on a slick log. Sharp pain shot through his ankle. Darkness clouded his vision as he fell, grasping at nothing. His half-fastened backpack spilled its contents.
«Bloody hell» Edward groaned, struggling to rise. His leg refused to obey.
Thunder whined anxiously, nudging his owners face with a cold nose.
«Easy, boy, easy» Edward tried to smile, but it twisted into a grimace.
Time crawled on. The sun dipped lower. Every attempt to stand or crawl sent fresh waves of agony. That dreadful helplessness settled over himthe knowledge that he couldnt escape alone.
«Think, Ed, think» he whispered, forcing clarity.
His gaze landed on the scattered items: notepad, pencil, useless phone. And loyal Thunder, unwavering at his side. The idea struck him like lightning.
«Thunder, here!» His voice shook, but the command was firm.
The dog obeyed instantly, eyes locked on Edwards.
With trembling hands, Edward tore a page from the notepad. *If you find this notehelp!* The letters wobbled, but he pressed on. *Lost in the woods. Broken leg. No signal. Approximate coordinates: grid 25-26, near the old section* He read it over, satisfied.
Thunder waited patiently as Edward secured the backpack to him.
«Listen carefully, boy.» He cupped the dogs muzzle. «Home. Understand? *Home!*»
Thunder whimpered, reluctant to leave.
«Go, Thunder! Now!»
The dog hesitated, then bolted.
They say dogs feel our pain. Maybe thats what drives them to such featsor perhaps love makes us all stronger, regardless of how many legs we have.
Edward leaned against a pine as twilight fell. An owl hooted in the distance. His leg throbbed, but he clung to one thought: *Thunder will make it. He has to.*
—
Exhausted paws slipped on damp grass. Thunder panted heavily but charged forwardno stops, no water, no rest. Just forward, toward help.
*Home, Thunder, home!* Edwards voice echoed in his mind.
As dusk settled, headlights flickered ahead. A patrol car screeched to a halt.
«Blimey, whered you come from?» asked PC James Carter, stepping out.
Thunder froze, eyes pleading. *Understand. Help. Hurry.*
«James, looka backpack!» His partner pointed. «Theres a note inside»
Carters hands shook as he read.
«Christ» he breathed. «Get dispatch on the linenow! And water for the dog!»
Thunder lapped greedily from a plastic bowl. Each gulp revived him, but time was short. His gaze darted impatiently*why the delay?*
Sometimes seconds stretch into eternity. Especially when someones life hangs in the balance.
«Find his owner!» Carter finally ordered. «Go!»
Thunder surged into the woods, the officers close behind. Torchlight cut through the dark, radios crackled And Thunder ran, straight to the old pine where Edward laypale, barely conscious, but alive.
«I knew» Edward whispered as medics lifted him into the ambulance. «Knew youd do it, boy.»
Thunder rested his head on Carters knee, too spent to whine.
«Come home with me, lad,» Carter murmured, scratching the dogs ear. «Rest while your owner heals. Then well see.»
—
Fifty-three Park Lane felt too quiet after Thunder left.
«You know,» Edward had said at the hospital, «hes grown fond of you too.»
Carter swallowed hard. «Mind if I visit sometimes?»
«Course not. But firstcheck the shelter. Someones waiting for you.»
The next day, the station met its newest recruit: a scruffy terrier named Blitz.
