At seven o’clock in the morning, I woke up to the wild barking of my dog, who was trying in every way to get me up, and I saw something scary.
Something happened to me this morning that I will never forget.
It was nearly seven o’clock. The street outside was still wrapped in silence, and I was savoring a rare day off. Yesterday had drained me completely—I didn’t even have the energy for my usual morning walk with the dog. I slept like a stone, dreaming of nothing unusual.
Suddenly, I felt a heavy weight pressing against my chest. Half-asleep, I opened my eyes—my dog was standing right over me, paws planted firmly, staring straight into my face.
“Well, what do you want?” I muttered, closing my eyes again, assuming he was just hungry or eager for a walk.
But he didn’t leave. Instead, he began stamping his paws insistently, licking my cheek, and whining softly, as if calling to me. I still didn’t understand why he was so determined to wake me. When I tried to ignore him, he suddenly barked right next to my ear, then leapt fully onto the bed, barking louder and sharper than ever, his voice laced with anxious urgency.
At that moment, I opened my eyes again… and realized something was wrong.
A sharp, unfamiliar smell filled the air. At first, I couldn’t place it. But within seconds, it clicked: burning. And it was growing stronger.
I shot upright, my heart hammering in my chest. I leapt out of bed and rushed barefoot into the hallway—only to freeze.
Thick gray smoke was already pouring through, seeping into my room. From the living room, flames were roaring, devouring half the space, crackling as they spat sparks into the air.
My dog stood by me, barking at the fire, then turning back to look at me, as if urging, “Faster!”
With shaking hands, I grabbed my phone, dialed the fire department, and without hesitation, fled the apartment with him by my side.
Only once we reached the street, safe but breathless, did the full weight of it hit me: if it weren’t for him, I would have kept sleeping… and I might never have woken up.
Later, I learned what had happened.
The night before, exhausted, I had left the iron on after pressing clothes. It had lain forgotten on the fabric—and that was what sparked the fire.
I remembered nothing. But my dog—he smelled the smoke before I did and refused to let me stay asleep.
If it weren’t for him… I wouldn’t be here telling this story now.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only.