6November2025 Diary
The day began with a clatter of the old landline in the precinct. Bloody hell, its that dog again! barked Sergeant Paul Irving, slamming the receiver down. The handset rattled on the dusty desk. Emily, weve got another call about a stray in the woods. Third one this morning, mind you.
Emily Clarke lifted her eyebrows, her mind already ticking. What dog now? asked SergeantChief Katherine Blake, looking up from a pile of paperwork.
Its the third time theyve reported a mad mutt near the edge of the forest, howling like a banshee, pulling at peoples coats and whining like a lost child. Its driving everyone round the bend.
Emily frowned. Fifteen years on the force had taught her to trust her gut, and today it whispered that something was off. Steve, lets have a look, shall we? she said to the young constable beside her.
Dont be daft, Emily, he replied with a grin. Its just a dogmaybe rabid, maybe just scared.
Or maybe its more than that.
Her thoughts drifted back to a case from two decades ago, when her younger brother Tom vanished on his way home from school. The whole department, the volunteers, even the local search dogs combed the fields for three days before they found himfar too late. The memory sharpened her resolve. Were going, she said firmly.
Within twenty minutes the beatup police Ford Escort sputtered to a halt at the fringe of Sherwood Forest. A cloud of dust rose from the churned gravel as the engine coughed. The trees loomed like twisted fingers reaching for the sky, their bark gnarled and blackened by years of weather. Fallen branches littered the ground, and thick brambles cast shadows even at high noon. Even the most seasoned mushroom foragers steered clear of this part of the wood.
Whats the dogs name? Steve asked, scanning the undergrowth.
Before anyone could answer, a bark ripped through the silence. From between two oaks a large, mudcaked mutt burst onto the clearing. He was shaggy, clearly once a family pet, but now wildeyed. He froze at the sight of us, then bolted forward, tail whipping like a flag.
Easy there, lad, Emily crouched, holding out a hand. Whats happened?
The dog whined, clamped his teeth onto the cuff of Emilys jacket, and tugged toward the deeper woods.
Youre not going to leave me here, are you? he growled.
Im coming, she answered, stepping forward. He wants to show us something.
The animal, realizing wed understood, gave a happy bark and led the way, never sprinting, always glancing back to make sure we followed. We trudged for about twenty minutes, the ground turning to slick mud, roots snaring our boots. Steve stumbled more than once, muttering curses, but kept pace.
Suddenly the dog halted and let out a low growl.
What is it? Emily whispered, her breath catching.
Through the trees ahead loomed a dilapidated shed, half swallowed by moss and tall grass, almost invisible unless you were looking for it.
Stay here, Emily ordered, moving ahead slowly, the dog never straying more than a step from her.
She reached the door, its old iron lock corroded beyond repair. A faint, hollow thump came from inside.
Steve! Get a medic in here! she shouted, pulling at the hinges until the door gave way. A stale, damp smell hit us, and the darkness inside swallowed the weak daylight.
Lord, Emily breathed, as her eyes adjusted.
In a corner of the shed, on a threadbare mattress layered with grimy rags, sat a gaunt teenager. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken, his clothes soaked in mud. Rough rope chafed his wrists, leaving raw, bloody marks. He blinked at the sudden light, a raw animal fear flickering in his gaze, mingled with a glimmer of hope. A hoarse cough escaped his cracked throat.
Who are you? Emily asked, pulling a pocketknife to slice the rope.
Art Art he rasped.
Arthur Blake? The same boy who went missing three days ago? Emilys voice faltered for a heartbeat.
He gave a weak nod.
Just then the police radio crackled. Sergeant, weve got a callpossible abduction, need backup and an ambulance, stat!
Emily helped Arthur to his feet. Hold on, lad. Youre safe now.
The dog, who had been watching silently, suddenly stiffened. His fur bristled along his spine and a deep snarl rumbled from his throat. A snap of twigs announced someone fleeing through the underbrush.
Get down! Emily shouted, drawing her service pistol.
The pursuera hulking figure in a black leather jacket, the sort youd rather avoid on the high streetcollapsed onto the leafstrewn ground, a massive dog clamped onto his chest. The animals growl was so guttural it seemed to shake the air, sending a chill down even Katherine Blakes seasoned spine. The mans eyes widened in terror as the dogs jaws clamped down, a raw, primal warning.
Stay calm, Jack, Emily muttered, using the mutts name that had stuck in her mind. Well sort this out.
The dog obeyed, stepping back but keeping his eyes locked on the criminal.
Soon the scene was swarmed by an emergency response team, paramedics, and uniformed detectives. The man, later identified as Victor Sykes, confessed on the spot. He turned out to be a professional kidnapper, operating for ransomthough it remained unclear what sum he expected from the singleparent mother of the missing boy.
A week later, I sat in my modest kitchen, the walls yellowed with dated papered panels, sipping lukewarm tea from my chipped mug while scrolling through the local paper on my phone. The front page blared in bold type: Heroic Dog Helps Crack ChildAbduction Case! Below, a photograph showed Jack, no longer a filthy stray but a clean, alert dog with a dignified expression.
Good lad, hero, I said, scratching behind his ear as he rested his head on the arm of the sofa. Hows the new life treating you?
Jack licked my hand and settled his weight on my knee.
They say coincidences dont exist. Perhaps this encounter was written in the stars for both of us: a police officer who, fifteen years ago, couldnt save her brother, and a wandering dog who ended up rescuing another boy.
Sometimes miracles happen, I whispered, running my fingers through the soft fur.
Jack gave a contented sigh. Hed known the truth long before I did.
Lesson learned: Never dismiss a stray for a simple animalsometimes the most unassuming creatures carry the weight of justice on their backs.
