«…And I crowned you… And gave you to no one… And loved you as best I could… And kissed you… Kissed you… Kissed you…» Victor soared on the wings of love, driving his beloved old Rover back to his darling Emily after three months away on a rig. The thick wad of pounds in his jacket pocket warmed his heart. His soul sang as he sped toward home, the crisp spring air brushing his face. «…And I crowned you…».
As he crossed a narrow bridge, movement caught his eyea dog, trapped in the icy river, struggling weakly. The poor thing was nearly spent. Victor hesitated. His favourite song still hummed in his ears, calling him home to Emily. «Poor pup,» he muttered, almost driving on.
Emilys smile… Spring… Love… And that wretched dog, drowning in the freezing water. «Blast it!» Victor cursed, wrenching the wheel around.
Parking by the bridge, he stripped off his coat and plunged into the river. Ice cut his hands as he fought his way to the doga massive, emaciated Labrador, its coat the colour of honey. Blood streaked Victors arms, the cold biting deep. He shoved the shivering beast toward the bank before staggering back to his car. «Hop in, mate. Youre coming home.»
The Lab clambered onto the back seat, collapsing with a grateful sigh.
Dusk settled as Victor neared town. Ahead, flashing blue lights revealed a pile-upa lorry and two cars. Police and ambulances crowded the scene. A chill prickled Victors neck. He glanced back. The dog, now dry and warm, snored softly. «If not for him…»
«Emily, love!» Victor swept his wife into his arms at the doorstep, kissing her fiercely. The Lab sat quietly, watching, tail thumping. Home. A new life. He already adored this petite woman in her floral dressing gown, the scent of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding wrapping around him. Hed claimed Victor as his own the moment those strong hands pulled him from death.
«Whos this?» Emily finally noticed their guest.
«Our angel. Archie,» Victor said. Emily knelt, offering her hand. The dog sniffed, licked her fingers, thenovercomeslurped her whole face.
And so Archie joined themalso known as «You great lump!», «Oi, stop terrorising the cat!», and «Our treasure, our love, our angel.»
They lived in a sturdy brick house in Manchester, inherited from Victors parents. A spacious kennel stood in the garden, though Archie often sneaked inside to sprawl on his mat by the door.
Life rolled on. Victor worked gruelling shifts abroaddecent jobs were scarce locally. Emily stayed home, no longer alone. Her rounded belly hinted at another secret.
One stifling summer evening, Emily took Archie for a stroll. The heat clung like a blanket. Laughter and blaring music from nearby youths set Archie on edge.
Two drunk lads lurched toward them. «Look what weve got here,» one sneered, reeking of beer. Emily froze. Archie strained against his muzzleuseless.
A hand grabbed her arm. She dropped the leash.
The boys had a knife. They stabbed Archie, again and again. Emily screamed, crumpling to the pavement as they fled, leaving her dog bleeding out in the dirt.
Victors phone rang as he neared home. «The vetnow! Archies dying!»
He burst into the clinic. Archie, tiny against the steel table, dripped with IVs. Vets worked frantically. Victor choked back sobs. «Dont leave us, lad.» He kissed the dogs feverish nose.
A flicker of life. A sigh.
Archie fought. He came home. For five more years, he guarded baby Oliver, showered his family with love, and died peacefully, surrounded by tears.
As they returned from the vet, four-year-old Oliver announced gravely, «We need a new Archie. I cant live without one.»
Love works miracles. So does kindnessto creatures great and small. For who knows? The scruffy mutt you save today might just save you tomorrow.
