“I’m suing you! Your dog attacked my child!” the woman shouted as she stormed into my yard, her face twisted in rage. She held her sobbing daughter, who was clutching her stomach where a visible scratch marred her skin.
I stood frozen, unable to process the situation. My dog, Rocky, lay peacefully by the flowerbed, wagging his tail. We had owned him for nearly five years—he was kind-hearted, intelligent, and had never shown aggression toward anyone. Yet, here was this woman accusing him of something so shocking. Her voice trembled with fear, painting my dog as a vicious threat. She had already contacted the police and insisted that the “dangerous” animal be put down immediately.
Trying to remain calm despite my confusion and fear, I took a deep breath.
“My dog wouldn’t hurt anyone,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “He’s friendly and loves children. Maybe your daughter did something that startled him. If you don’t believe me, I have security cameras. Would you like to see the footage?”
The officers agreed, and we went inside to view the video. The camera above the door provided a full view of the yard, including the spot where the incident had supposedly occurred.
We began to play the footage.
There was Rocky, lying peacefully near the bench, watching the sparrows fluttering around. A few moments later, the woman and her daughter entered the yard.
The little girl slowly approached Rocky. We slowed the video down, and what we saw made my heart stop. My dog…
Continued in the first comment 👇👇
The girl was holding something… something metallic…
It was a stun gun.
The officers exchanged surprised looks.
The footage clearly showed the girl approaching Rocky, reaching out with the stun gun, and then—click. The dog yelped, leaped up in alarm, and bolted away in panic. The girl lost her balance, falling to the ground. The scratch appeared to be from her fall or perhaps from a nearby bush.
The woman’s face drained of color as she watched the footage.
“This can’t be…” she muttered, visibly shaken. “This… this isn’t hers…”
One of the officers turned to her.
“Where did your child get the stun gun?”
The woman collapsed, her face pale.
“It’s… my husband’s. He kept it in the car… she must have taken it without asking…”
We sat in stunned silence. Rocky, looking relieved, walked into the house quietly, as if checking to make sure everything was okay.
Poor Rocky. The things he had to endure from such careless, inconsiderate people.