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Chased by Pigs

A stray dog sneaked into the pig pen for food. The pigs quickly surrounded and chased the dog away.

The pigs saw the dog sneaking into their pen. They grunted and charged to protect their food.

Rescuing the Puppy

As the situation worsened, I called out to the frightened dog. I guided him away from the pigs. Covered in mud, his small body trembled. He was just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The little dog was covered in mud, his fur matted and unkempt. He looked fragile and helpless. I crouched, calling him softly, wanting to offer comfort and care.

Unlikely Goodbye

As I turned to leave, the little dog hesitated, eyes uncertain. Then, with sudden determination, he wriggled through the gate and trotted to me. He pressed against my legs as if pleading. He wasn’t a stray, and I had no right to take him, but his quiet desperation stayed with me long after I walked away.

The dog hesitated, eyes longing, squeezing through the gate to follow me. He wasn’t a stray, and I could do nothing. My heart ached as he stood there, barely visible in the fading light, silently pleading.

The Chicken Coop

Covered in dirt, he looked small and vulnerable. His owner had tied him in the chicken coop to keep him from the pig pen. He strained against his leash, trying to pull his bowl closer as chickens watched. The sight reminded me of my old stray, Dahuang. I sighed, feeling helpless.

The dog sat tethered in the chicken coop, muddy and tugging at the rope to reach his food bowl while chickens watched curiously.

Bringing Gifts

Even after I left, I couldn’t stop thinking about the dog—his muddy fur, his quiet resilience. The thought of taking him home stayed with me.

After work, I drove to the mountains, hoping to bring the dog home. I chose gifts for his owners, unsure of their answer but determined to try.

Rejected Offer

The owners refused to let him go, even when I offered money.

I offered him the chicken breast I had brought. He ate it hungrily but remained gentle, taking each bite carefully from my hand.

Gaining His Trust

As I reached out, he flinched, shrinking away. He wasn’t used to kindness, his body tensing. After a moment, he hesitated, studying me. Slowly, he allowed my hand on his head. A fragile thread of trust began to form.

He flinched at first, pulling away, but soon relaxed. Hesitantly, he lowered himself beside my knee and sighed, as if allowing himself to trust.

Small, Thin Dog

My hand brushed his frail body, his bones sharp beneath his skin.

The little dog pressed against my hand, his tail wagging as if starved of affection. In that moment, he wasn’t just a hungry, abandoned dog—he was a soul soaking in kindness.

Shy and Silent

At an age when he should have been energetic, the little dog sat still beside me. His quiet demeanor felt unnatural—too well-mannered for a pup, as if invisibility was safer. He watched me with cautious eyes, his small body tense, wanting affection but unsure how to ask.

He wanted to show affection but hesitated. His small body twisted, torn between instinct and uncertainty.

Leaving Him Behind

As I stood to leave, the little dog gazed at me with sorrowful eyes. No barking or whining—just quiet reluctance, afraid to reach out yet desperate to hold on.

His small frame, hesitant movements, and longing eyes made him look like a child who had never known love.

Locked Out

On the third day, I returned to the mountain to see the dog. The place was quiet—the owner had left and locked the door. I had come ready to negotiate, but there was nothing I could do. Peering through the fence, I saw the dog. His tail wagged, and he barked excitedly. I held the cash—two thousand yuan—but with no one there, I had to leave, hoping for a different outcome tomorrow.

The owner wasn’t home but said we could talk the next day. I watched the dog from a distance; his tail wagged, and he barked.

Warm Welcome

I couldn’t take him home yet, so I watched from afar. Tied up in the chicken coop, he perked up, wagging his tail and barking. I ached knowing I couldn’t free him today, but I promised to return. Tomorrow, little one.

The dog spotted me, wagged his tail, and barked. His eyes lit up with recognition, and his joy was infectious. Despite everything, he greeted me with unguarded happiness.

My Two Dogs

At home, I have a Husky and a Labrador. The Labrador was once a stray before finding a home with me.

The Labrador had also been a stray, like the dog I hoped to bring home.

Promise Made

The dog must be waiting for me to take him home, as I promised. I can picture him, ears perked, eyes hopeful, tail wagging. I’ll be back tomorrow.

Hang in there. I’ll be back tomorrow.

Taking Him Home

On the fourth day, I returned up the mountain to bring the dog home. After negotiations, the owner agreed, and for 1,200 yuan, he was mine. Once untied, he ran straight to me without hesitation. His eager eyes and wagging tail showed his trust. They say love can’t be bought, but for him, it was 1,200 yuan, and I would ensure he never doubted it.

The dog bolted toward me, tail wagging. It was as if he knew I would take him away. His excitement was unmistakable, his trust unforgettable.

Unforgettable Reunion

The dog bolted toward me, kicking up dust, eyes shining—he knew I had come to take him home.

The dog didn’t know his life had changed. Unlike humans, his love was immediate and unquestioning. Bought with money, his loyalty and trust were priceless.

Excited Pup

The little dog had never been outside before. He dashed around me, tail wagging. Every scent and rustling leaf excited him. He stopped to look up, ears perked. His happiness made me smile.

The dog rose on his hind legs, ears perked, straining to catch my words. His eyes shone with curiosity, eager to understand.

The Timid Pup

The little dog flattened against the ground whenever I lifted my hand. His wide eyes held fear and uncertainty. When he realized I meant no harm, he hesitated, then slowly lifted his head, his tail wagging slightly. Affection was unfamiliar to him.

The dog tensed as I lifted him, his body stiff. He neither resisted nor relaxed, his eyes flicking up to mine for reassurance.

The Dog’s Eyes

On the way home, I scrolled through my phone and felt a gaze. The little dog stared up with searching eyes, seeming older than his months. My heart tightened. Worried, I stroked his head. ‘Don’t worry,’ I murmured. ‘You’re safe.’

The young dog’s eyes held untold stories. His quiet stare had a depth beyond his months, as if he had seen and felt too much.

Providing Comfort

I watched the dog beside me, concerned he felt uneasy. I extended my hand, brushing his fur to reassure him. He hesitated, then cautiously responded, his tail giving a small wag. He was safe now.

I had to reassure him. I stroked his head and whispered, ‘You’re safe now. You won’t have to worry again.’

The First Step

At home, the little dog stood at the stairs, hesitant. Stairs were new to him. He whimpered, looking at me.

After coaxing and failed attempts, he wouldn’t move. With a sigh, I picked him up. He nestled against me, trembling before finally relaxing.

Big Brother’s Approval

We arrived home, and I introduced the little dog to the Husky and Labrador.

His two older brothers wagged their tails, sniffing him in welcome. He had a family.

A Rainy Arrival

When I brought the dog home, the rain fell steadily. The chickens huddled for warmth beneath the shelter. But the little one sat alone in the drizzle, barely visible through the mist, enduring the cold without seeking cover or companionship.

The chickens huddled together for warmth as the rain poured. Nearby, a small dog sat alone, shivering and silent, watching them.

Unexpected Mess

That night, the dog seemed unwell, retching before vomiting cabbage and potato strips. We withheld dinner, hoping his stomach would settle by morning.

He threw up the cabbage and potato strips from the night before, so we skipped his dinner to let his stomach settle. He didn’t whine, just curled up quietly, enduring hunger.

Energetic Outburst

The little dog hesitated, nibbling cautiously. Once he got a taste, instincts took over, and he devoured the meal, realizing he no longer had to fight for every bite.

After his meal, the dog sprinted around the room. His paws skittered as he explored. He left a small mess under the table, unfazed.

Dog’s Check-Up

After his meal, we took the dog for a health check. He trotted beside us, tail wagging. At the clinic, I felt a mix of anticipation and worry, but he looked up at me, unaware of the visit’s significance.

The dog sat quietly beside me in the car, his eyes watching everything. Earlier restless, he now seemed calm. He didn’t whimper or fidget, just watched me with quiet trust. I stroked his head, feeling him relax. For the first time, he traveled peacefully home.

Medical Examination

The test results were clear—no parvovirus or distemper. His temperature was normal, indicating relatively good health.

At four months old, the dog was underweight at 11 lbs. His frail frame showed faint ribs beneath scruffy fur, a sign of prolonged malnourishment. He should have been lively but showed hardship beyond his age.

Health Problems

The vet confirmed the dog had been neglected—poor skeletal development from malnutrition, a fungal ear infection, and ticks. We began deworming immediately. Despite this, he had no major health issues. Perhaps sensing our relief, he managed a small smile.

The vet found ticks on him during his checkup. We promptly gave him deworming treatment.

Cheerful Pup

The dog was in decent health. He was frail, had traces of fungal infection in his ears, and a few ticks in his fur, but these were treatable. As the vet reassured us, he looked up and gave a small smile.

The little dog’s expression softened, his lips curling slightly in what seemed like a smile, as if sharing our happiness.

Unexpected Escape

The pup wriggled free from the playpen and trotted toward me, tail wagging. His bright eyes and energy showed he was eating well and growing stronger. Seeing him like this warmed my heart.

The dog had settled in well, growing stronger each day. He escaped the playpen again, full of energy. Regular meals were helping—he was more playful, and his body was functioning well. Watching him race around, I smiled. He was getting the care he needed.

Careful Feeding

The dog had only eaten scraps before, and his stomach wasn’t used to proper meals.

I wanted to spoil the dog with good food to make up for his hardship, but I had to be careful—sudden diet changes wouldn’t be good. Reason told me to take it slow.

The Grateful Dog

The little dog gazed at me as I lifted him onto the sofa. His tail wagged, and he curled into a relaxed position against me, his warmth seeping into my side. He looked content—safe, loved, and home.

He wasn’t just a stray brought inside; he was discovering what it meant to belong.

Finding Comfort

After playing, the dog nestled against me, seeking warmth.

As he slept, I stroked his fur, silently promising he would never worry again.