Around 4 a.m., a dog started barking behind the houses. By 5 a.m., its barking had grown louder and more intense.
Around 4 a.m., behind the garages, a dog started barking. They walked a short distance and saw her — still barking, facing the houses.
On the ground behind her lay a man. The man and woman ran toward the dog, realizing she was trying to get help.
But the closer they got, the more aggressively the dog barked at them. It was a German Shepherd — a serious dog, not one to approach lightly. The woman suggested calling an ambulance.
The ambulance arrived quickly. Two medics got out. The woman warned them about the dog’s aggression when she called.
As they moved toward the man, she barked warnings but quieted down when she saw the ambulance. She sat next to her owner.
The medics cautiously approached the man. The dog stayed still, watching silently. His pulse was weak. The man, about 35 years old, had suffered a severe abdominal injury with heavy bleeding.
One medic opened a medical kit, swiftly dressed the wound, while the other prepared injections. The dog watched closely.
By then, a small crowd had gathered but stayed about 10 meters away, unwilling to come closer. One medic fetched a stretcher.
They carefully lifted the man and loaded him into the ambulance. The dog couldn’t come along but watched them intently. The instructions were clear — and what else could be done?
The ambulance drove off on the bumpy road with the dog running alongside. She kept pace, sometimes lagging, sometimes catching up.
At the hospital gate, the ambulance stopped. Guards raised the barrier, letting the vehicle in. The driver explained to a guard: “We have a man here with an injury. That’s his dog.”
“I see,” the guard replied, eyeing the dog. “Stay here! No moving! Sit!” The commands confused the shepherd a bit, but she obeyed, sitting by the gate and watching the ambulance.
She waited quietly for nearly an hour, then moved closer to the fence to avoid blocking passing cars. The guards kept an eye on her to make sure she wouldn’t slip inside.
Later, realizing she planned to wait there, they only glanced her way occasionally. “What do we do now?” one asked. “Nothing. What do you suggest?”
“How long will she wait here?” “Who knows? Maybe she’ll lie down and leave.” “No… she’s smart. Will she really wait?” “If things are bad, maybe she won’t.”
“Poor thing… should we give her something to eat?” “Sure! But if you feed her here, you’ll get fired.” “So what now?” “Nothing. We’ll wait and see if she leaves. If not, we’ll decide then.”
Morning came. The shepherd lay near the entrance. The guards were about to change shifts and explained the situation to the newcomers. One of them said:
“I’ll check on the man, explain things so they don’t accidentally call animal control. Maybe I’ll bring her some food.” “No feeding here!” “Let her die behind the fence if she wants.”
The dog watched the talking people carefully. About 40 minutes later, the guard returned. “Well? How’s the man?” “They operated. He’s in intensive care.
Stable for now. Asked for leftovers…” The man brought a plate with a cutlet, sausage, and a bowl of water. “But no feeding here… Come here,” he called the dog, placing the bowls near a tree by the road.
The shepherd looked at him without moving. “Come on, eat. Drink some water at least. Take it! You can!” he encouraged, trying to recall commands.
The dog stood but didn’t move. She clearly was thinking, glancing between the man, the bowls, and the barrier. Then she sat.
“Suit yourself,” the man said, stepping back to the booth. Slowly, the dog approached the bowl, sniffed, then greedily started drinking water.
A week passed. The dog’s owner had been moved to a regular ward two days ago and was recovering slowly. There was no one to ask about the dog, which made things even sadder.
They had lived together since he went to reserve duty after his injury. They served together and left the service together. He hoped that such an intelligent dog wouldn’t be lost.
Meanwhile, the shepherd moved from the fence to the trees, still keeping a watchful eye on the entrance. The guard fed her little by little. He thought to tell the owner about the dog waiting at the hospital.
After his shift, the guard went to the ward where the man was staying. There were four beds; two patients were lying down. One was bedridden, the other walking around in a rehab suit.
“Hello,” the guard addressed the bedridden man. “Are you Alexey Fomichev?” “Yes. What happened?” “I’m the hospital guard. Don’t worry! Nothing bad — quite the opposite!
That was your German Shepherd, right?” “Why ‘was’?” Alexey asked anxiously. “Sorry, I misspoke. She’s here — lying by the entrance all this time.
Now she’s moved a bit further but hasn’t left. We’re feeding her a little.” Alexey closed his eyes, smiled, and shook his head. “What? Not yours?”
“She’s mine — Alma, my Alma. We served together. She’s trained and very smart.” “We figured that out,” the guard smiled, happy the situation was resolved.
“Can I ask a favor? Give me a tissue from the nightstand.” The guard handed a tissue, and Alexey wiped his face.
“Now take a plastic bag. I’ll put the tissue inside. Please give it to Alma — she’ll understand!”
The guard left the hospital grounds and went to the trees where Alma waited. She saw the bag but didn’t come closer. He placed it on the ground, opened it, then stepped back.
Alma sniffed the tissue for a long time, then carefully pulled it out, took it under the tree, laid down, and placed the tissue on her paws and head.
Epilogue: Alma waited for her owner. The joy when they reunited was beyond words! They had saved each other many times and knew the importance of waiting. And Alma waited.
