was driving down County Road 12 on a hectic morning when something caught my eye near the shoulder—a cluster of four muddy, visibly shaking boxer puppies nestled close together beside a ditch. I was already running behind for an important meeting and wasn’t in the mood for any delays, but I couldn’t bring myself to just keep going.
There was no mother dog around, no nearby houses—just the puppies and a crumpled, half-fallen cardboard box.Without thinking, I pulled over, grabbed an old hoodie from the back seat, and carefully bundled the trembling pups inside before heading back home. Once there, I gave them a quick rinse and gently dried them off with towels.
My next step was to scan for microchips and post about them in a local lost pet group. That’s when I noticed one of the puppies wore a worn yellow collar. Tucked underneath was a small metal tag with a handwritten message that sent a chill through me: “Not Yours.” Later that day, my friend Tate dropped by. He’s a vet tech and tends to notice things I wouldn’t.
The moment he saw the tag, his face went pale. “I’ve seen something like this before,” he said grimly, though he wouldn’t say where. “These pups might not be just strays,” he warned.We scanned each one. Only the puppy with the collar had a chip—registered years ago to a veterinary clinic a few counties away, with no recent records or updated contact information.