Rescue Through the Smoke

I’m a firefighter, and yesterday I responded to a house fire. Smoke filled the

hallways, heat pressing down like a wall. The floor creaked under every step.

Then I heard it—a soft scratching. I followed the sound to a door at the end of the hall.

Flames curled along the walls, and in the corner, a small dog trembled, eyes wide,

pressed against the wall. “Hey buddy, it’s okay,” I whispered. I wrapped him in

my jacket, trying to shield him from the heat. He whimpered once, then clung to me.

The ceiling groaned, embers fell, every step out felt like it could be the last.

Finally, I saw a broken window—the way out. I ducked through, still holding him.