I was driving down County Road 12 when I spotted four muddy, shivering boxer puppies by the ditch. Running late for a meeting, I still couldn’t ignore them. There was no mother or nearby houses, just the pups and a broken cardboard box. I pulled over, wrapped them in an old hoodie, and took them home. After cleaning them up, I scanned for microchips and posted in a lost pet group.

One puppy wore a worn yellow collar with a small metal tag reading, “Not Yours.” When my friend Tate, a vet tech, saw it, he warned me, “These pups might not be just strays.” Only the collared puppy had a chip, registered to a vet clinic far away, with no current info. Tate hinted darkly about illegal dog breeding or dogfighting rings.

For four days, I hid the puppies, then late one night, two men showed up in a beat-up truck. I locked us in the bathroom and texted my neighbor to call the sheriff if needed. The men knocked, saying, “They’re not here… probably taken to the shelter.” One added, “We’ll find them—if they’re still alive.” I stayed hidden until they left and the sheriff arrived.