Come Along With Me!

**Diary Entry A Guardian Found in the Woods**

I still remember the day I found heror rather, the day she found me. It was years ago, deep in the forest near my cottage in the Lake District. Id gone to gather hazelnuts, never expecting to stumble upon a stray pup, half-starved and drenched from the rain. How shed ended up there, alone in the wilderness, only God knows.

She wasnt much to look atclumsy, scruffy, nothing like the pedigree hounds the gentry keep. But those eyes deep brown, wise beyond her years. I crouched down, studying her.

“Come with me,” I said. “Ive no dog at the moment. Youll make a fine guardIll not mistreat you.”

I mounted my bicycle and pedalled back to the village, glancing over my shoulder more than once. But no one followed.

She was wild, untamedthe sort folk call “not right with people.” And she wasnt.

By the time Id forgotten about the encounter, she appeared at my gate. Those same brown eyes watched me, unblinking, as if weighing my soul. Night after night, shed linger just beyond the lamplight, then vanish.

Then one evening, as I sat twisting a roll-up on the bench, she approached. Sniffed my boots. And lay down at my feet.

Ive never been a sentimental man. Livestock is livestockIve slaughtered more pigs, cows, and chickens than I care to count. A dogs for guarding, cats for mousing. Id lost many over the yearssome poisoned, others taken by illness. The kennel had stood empty since Thunder passed last summer. Vet said it was ticks.

But this one she was different.

I took a drag and studied her. “So, beast, youve decided to stay? Listen well. Ill feed you twice a day, whatevers to hand. The kennels warm. Ill let you off the chain some nightsbut youll guard this yard. No stranger passes without fear. Agreed?”

And so began her new life. I named her Bess. Where Id heard such a fine name, I couldnt say.

Time turned the awkward pup into a wolfish gianthandsome, powerful, feared by the whole village. Some swore there was wolf blood in her. She never fawned, never licked hands. When family came near, shed merely watch, silent and still. But strangers? Shed have torn them apart. Her growl alone was enough to freeze the blood.

Yet at night, when I unchained her, shed vanishonly to return precisely when called. Never harmed a soul.

She whelped regularly, and her pups were prized, sought after even from neighbouring hamlets. Folk feared her but respected her. She killed only when necessary.

Then came the day she saved little Emily.

The childbarely threewas tied to the old oak by her gran, Martha, while she tended the garden. Emily adored Bess, always toddling over with outstretched arms.

That afternoon, Bess dozed by her kennel, one eye on Emily in the sandpit, the other on Martha among the cabbages. Thena sharp claw scraped her nose.

The tomcat, Smudge, hissed, “Do something! Emilys drowning!”

Bess lunged to her feet. No sign of the girl.

“By the pond!” Smudge yowled. “Her bonnets in the watershes gone after it!”

Bess barkedlouder than ever before, thrashing against her chain. Martha barely glanced up. “Mad creature,” she muttered.

Then Bess howled.

A sound so terrible, so unearthly, it turned the villagers blood to ice.

Martha dropped her spade. Neighbours came running.

They found Emily just in time, dragged her from the pond. The whole village reeledparamedics came, her parents wept with relief.

That evening, Emilys father, James, knelt before Bess. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Come live with us in Manchesteryoull have the best life.”

Bess rested her head on his shoulderjust for a moment. Then she walked back to me and lay at my boots.

I stood there, stiff as a post, fighting the damned tears.