When I first met Penguin, his head was stuck between two bars at an animal shelter, and I instantly fell in love. He had been rescued from a dog park because somebody had left him there. I soon learned how much Penguin enjoyed long walks and playing with stuffed toys, so we would occasionally explore the neighborhood together.

I had installed a pet door soon after he came home, and whenever I was too busy, Penguin would go on solo adventures and come back with small presents (sticks). One Monday evening, he came home barking hysterically. I tried to pet him, but he couldn’t calm down at all. He kept running towards the door and coming back to my rocking chair, and every time, he would tug on my trousers. It was quite unlike him, so I assumed that he wanted to take a walk with me.

I put a leash on him, and we went out, but this time, he eagerly pulled me towards a different direction, one that led to the woods close to my house. We walked for a short while and eventually got to a ditch. I was so shocked to see a three-year-old girl curled up in there, shivering. She was wearing tiny shorts and an oversized t-shirt, and I could tell that she had been crying.

“Hello, what’s your name?” I asked as I took off my coat. She didn’t say a word. Penguin kept barking until I carried the little girl in my arms and wrapped the coat around her. I immediately called the authorities after getting home, and they arrived a few minutes later; ambulance in tow. They took my statement and drove her to a nearby hospital.

I later learned that Lilian had been abandoned by her parents at a farmers market and she got lost trying to find her way home. Penguin and I visited her at the hospital a few times before she was taken into foster care.

On the last day I saw her, as she smiled down at Penguin, petting him ever so gently, I couldn’t help but hold back tears. I remember thinking that maybe Penguin felt obligated to call for help because he too, had been in the same position a while back.