10 Stories Proving That Dog Loyalty Is the Strongest of All
You can hardly think of any other animal in the world more loyal to humans than a dog. Dogs love their owners wholeheartedly and are ready to do absolutely anything for them.
Today FunnyModo presents a collection of “overheard” stories about canine loyalty that are certain to bring tears to your eyes!
- A few days ago, I went to the store to buy cigarettes. On the way back home, I stopped to open the pack. Just then, a dog approached and sat down, staring at me. I took out a cigarette and offered it to the dog. It sniffed at the cigarette, clasped it carefully in its jaws, and carried it to its homeless owner, who sat nearby. Now I love and respect dogs even more than before!
- I have a habit of putting my folded pajamas under my pillow before making the bed. While she was still a pup, my dog Abby used to get very lonely in my absence, so she’d often jump on the bed, drag my clothes out, and sleep on them in the hallway. She stopped doing this when she became older. Lately, a career opportunity forced me to move to another town. I left my dog with my parents, but I drive over to visit every weekend. Nevertheless, my four-legged friend misses me dearly. Last week, my parents called and told me how they came home from the shops only to be greeted by Abby wearing my pajama top (she must’ve found it under the pillow and somehow put her head through the neck hole). I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when I pictured the scene!
Last month, there was a fire at our apartment. Thankfully, myself, my whole family, and our dog managed to get out in time. Suddenly, it hit me… Our pet tortoise! We’d left him behind! Then I looked at the dog and saw him holding the little beastie in his mouth. When it comes to friendship, animals can really teach us a thing or two!
Muffins are my doggie’s favorite treat. She’ll do anything to get one, and when she has it, she won’t let anyone take it away. A few days ago, I came back from work late and utterly exhausted. Barely dragging my feet, I entered the apartment, collapsed on the sofa, and began to sob. Suddenly, my dog ran up to me and started to lick my hands, poking at my face with her nose. Oblivious, I kept on crying. Then she left me alone for a few minutes and returned, carrying a muffin in her jaws. She put it in front of me and sat down by the sofa, waiting for me to calm down.
I run a small grocery shop, and one of my regulars is a Royal Poodle called Albert! He belongs to an old lady who has difficulties walking. Each day, I marvel at that dog’s smarts. He comes in, gets in the line, and waits patiently for his turn at the counter, holding a small package in his mouth. The package contains some money, a shopping list, and a string bag. All I need to do is take the money, fill the bag with goods, and give it back to the dog. Each time I do that, I’m half-expecting to see Albert count the change with his paws!
I found my dog Suzie at a kennel, where she languished in the “total rejects” category. A beautiful red-coated Pinscher with intelligent eyes, she kept utterly silent. And I mean 24/7. No barking at all. Things didn’t change after I brought her home with me. If she wanted something (walkies, toilet, food), she used to express it by constantly running from one room to another. Then, one night, when I was half-asleep in my bed, I heard a muffled barking from what seemed like far away. I couldn’t even lift my eyelids — it seemed like the whole world was weighing down on them. Finally, with great difficulty, I woke up and saw that it was my dog barking! And then I realized there was a gas leak in the house. Without Suzie, I would’ve fallen asleep and never woken up. My little savior!
- Nearly three years ago, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. The diagnosis was confirmed on December 30 that same year. What followed were two surgeries and a difficult rehabilitation process. I was about to finish school back then. Everyone was preparing for exams and the prom, and I would spend every night at the hospital, lying in bed with my mom, trying my best to revise. My mother pulled through — the illness has receded. As for me, I managed to do well in the exams. But now our dog has fallen ill. It happened right after my mom got better. There’s nothing that can be done: the tumor is inoperable. My mother is certain that the dog has taken her cancer on himself.
- I have a Dalmatian called Sammy. When he was seven months old, we went for a walk in the park. Suddenly, for no reason at all, Sammy darted into one of the side alleys. I followed him. The scene that opened before my eyes made me freeze: Sammy was sitting by the side of the walkway, pressing a girl of about six into the floral hedge with his back. Standing before them were several large stray dogs, and my dog was growling at them. I felt really scared, but I grabbed a stick and tried to chase the strays away. Finally, they retreated, leaving me standing with the little girl clutching at one of my legs, and the shaking Sammy pressing against the other. Later, the girl told me that the strays rushed at her, but then my dog appeared out of nowhere and came to her rescue. That was the only time I’ve ever seen Sammy growl. My hero!
- When I was five, I rescued a puppy from the swamp. After that, he lived with us for a month, but, since my grandma already had two dogs, we gave him away to our neighbors. Six years passed, and the puppy became a huge fierce-looking dog. One day, as I was hanging out with my friends, he broke loose from his chain and ran out onto the street. I remember my friends scampering in all directions, with me alone remaining glued to the spot. The dog charged toward me, then suddenly slowed to a walk. Calmly, he approached me, sat down, and buried his head in my stomach. I just stroked him, saying, “Thank you, my Swamp Thing!” Those were the most sincere thanks I’ve ever given in my life.
- I lost my leg in an accident a year ago. Right now, the best psychological support anyone gives me comes from my pet Labrador, Princess. Whenever we go for a walk, she deliberately bends one of her hind paws (periodically shifting from one to the other), hopping along on three paws instead of four. Quite clearly, she does that to show her empathy.