🐶 The Hero in the Woodshop
(told from the boy’s point of view)
🌞 That morning, I remember it so clearly. Dad was showing me how to measure a wooden plank 📏, and I was trying my best to do it right so he would be proud 😊.
Mom was cleaning up behind us 🧹, and Bo, our chubby pitbull 🐾, was lying near the door, wagging his tail slowly to the rhythm of the saw.
Everything felt so peaceful… until a terrifying roar shattered the air 😨.
From outside the workshop, a huge tiger 🐅 came charging in, its eyes blazing like fire 🔥.
Dad barely had time to shout and pull me behind him 🛡️.
I was so scared 😢 — my legs were shaking, and I couldn’t move. Dad held me tight while I cried.
Then Bo growled — a sound I had never heard from him before 🐾💪.
Without hesitation, he leapt at the tiger, throwing himself in front of us ⚡.
The two animals crashed together, shaking the whole workshop.
Dust and sawdust filled the air 🌪️, drowning out every other sound.
Dad grabbed me and ran 🏃♂️, but I turned around just in time to see it —
the tiger bit Bo on the neck 💔. Blood splattered on the cold cement floor 🩸.
I screamed, but Dad just held me tighter and kept running.
When everything finally went quiet, I went back to find him.
He was lying still on the floor… his eyes open, looking toward the door where we had escaped 🕯️.
I knelt beside him, tears falling onto his soft fur 😭.
“Good boy, Bo… 🥺 You’re my hero.” ❤️
Since that day, the workshop still smells like fresh wood 🌲,
the saw still hums,
but there’s one sound missing — his bark 🐾.
Every time the sunlight shines through the doorway 🌤️,
I remember his eyes — brave and gentle —
watching over me still,
my guardian forever. 🌈🐶💫