It was a blazing summer afternoon when I spotted a small dog trapped inside a locked car, panting and fading fast. The windows were barely open, and the heat was unbearable.
I waited, hoping the owner would come back—but the dog’s breathing grew weaker. I grabbed a brick and smashed the window. The crash turned heads, but I didn’t care. I lifted the trembling dog into my arms, feeling its body burning with heat—but alive.
Moments later, the furious owner appeared, shouting about his broken window. He saw damage; I saw a life saved.
Security came, tempers cooled, and the dog survived. That was enough for me.
Not everyone agreed with what I did, but that day I learned something simple: glass can be replaced—a life can’t.