The friends were resting by the seaside when a dog dashed toward them, barking forcefully: suddenly one of the women went pale, staring closely at the animal’s coat.
Five companions, bound by years of friendship, sat comfortably on large blankets beneath the gentle glow of a summer sun. They savored a peaceful pause—sharing jokes, exchanging updates, sometimes falling silent, watching the endless blue.
Beside them sat a basket packed with homemade delights—cookies, fruits, refreshing drinks. The women laughed heartily, enjoying the carefree moment together.
Then, without war:ning, a dog showed up—a scruffy medium-sized mutt with sharp eyes and tousled fur. It circled their group, barking loudly, wagging its tail, though something uneasy stirred in its behavior.
“She looks so silly!” one of the women chuckled,providing the animal a cookie.
“She must be starving,” another added.
Yet the dog ignored the food completely. She kept darting around, running to one woman, then the next, barking ever louder. For a moment, the friends froze, sensing something troubling.
Then one woman, the most attentive, suddenly turned pale:
—Girls… look at her coat!
Her trembling finger pointed toward the dog’s side. Dark droplets glistened amid the clumps of reddish fur—blood.
The women traded doubtful glances, then bent nearer. Indeed, fresh bl00dstains damaged the animal’s side and paws.
“My God… is she injured?” one friend asked, frightened.
But the dog didn’t seem hurt—she neither limped nor sobbed nor showed pain. Instead, she abruptly bolted, sprinting toward the rocky headland.
The women looked at each other in alarm and decided to follow.
Rising quickly from their blankets, they hurried across the burning sand, barely controlling to keep pace with the dog’s leaps.
Nearer the cape, their hearts strained. There, sprawled on the wet shore, lay an unconscious man. A pool of bl00d darkened the sand beneath his head, and nearby a slippery stone shone—he must have fallen and struck himself.
The dog dashed to him, sniffed his body, and barked again, demanding aid. The friends exchanged anxious looks, then one fumbled for her phone, calling emergency services with trembling hands.
“Is he still breathing?” one friend asked.
“Barely…” muttered another, pressing her palm against his chest.
They tried to keep him awake, soothed the dog, and anxiously awaited the ambulance.
One thought haunted each of them: without this faithful creature, they would never have realized that tragedy was unfolding just beyond their cheerful holiday.
Soon, the siren split the summer stillness. Paramedics carefully lifted the man onto a stretcher. The women exhaled heavily as they watched doctors dress his wound.
And at last the dog calmed—she approached one woman and leaned against her side, as though quietly expressing gratitude for their help.
