I’ve been driving trucks for over fifteen years, and I’ve seen a lot on the road. But nothing stuck with me like what happened one night on Route 82.
It was past midnight, and I spotted a small dog on the shoulder. I pulled over, and the scruffy mutt with sad eyes didn’t run or bark—just waited. I gave him some beef jerky, and he became mine. I named him Buddy.
Buddy kept me company for days, riding in the passenger seat. One night, at a rest stop, Buddy saved my life. I was sleeping in my cab when he started growling. A man was trying to break into my truck. Before I could react, Buddy lunged, scaring the guy off.
After that, Buddy was always by my side. A few months later, I learned that Buddy had once belonged to a trucker named Ray who went missing two months before. His truck was found abandoned, but Buddy was found wandering alone on the highway. Some thought Ray had run into trouble at a rest stop, and Buddy had seen it.
Buddy stayed with me for years, keeping me safe. Eventually, I stopped at a shelter, not to leave him, but to adopt another dog. That night, as the three of us hit the road, I realized that sometimes, it’s not just us saving others—it’s them saving us.
If you ever see an animal in need, don’t turn away. You never know when they might be the one to save you.