Thanks to a man who saw a video of the incident that went viral, a dog who was shockingly dumped by the side of the road has a happy ending. A bicyclist in Itabira, Brazil, saw someone in a vehicle leave a small brown and white dog by the roadside a few weeks ago.
Because she couldn’t take the dog with her, the girl who filmed it went home to get her car, but when she returned to the scene, she couldn’t find the dog. She looked for several days in the area but came up empty-handed. She then shared the video on social media with the caption, “I can’t stop thinking about the dog.” “I’m not sure if he’s all right.”
Many people agreed with her, including a man who lived near where the dog was abandoned. He was moved by the dog’s plight and went in search of him. The Good Samaritan searched for the lost dog for two days straight!
Despite the fact that he was contacted by Defato Online, the Good Samaritan preferred to remain anonymous about his good deed. A video shared on WhatsApp, on the other hand, shows the happy rescued dog playing with a family in what appears to be a backyard.
“So people, this here is the dog we rescued that is causing a lot of controversy here in Itabira,” the narrator says in the video. We were moved by the story and decided to pursue him. He’s now being looked after. He’s here with us, with food and everything he requires.” With the exception of a name, that is.
People are now being asked to help the family name the dog, according to the news outlet. Is Pietro, Einstein, or Xerebebeu the best choice? According to polls, the name ‘Pietro’ is the most popular.
Thanks to the witness and the man who refused to give up on the dog, what began as a sad story now has a happy ending. Share this touching dog rescue story with your friends and family!
THE DAY I LEARNED WHAT TRUE STRENGTH LOOKS LIKE
The sun beat down mercilessly, reflecting off the asphalt in shimmering waves. Sweat stung my eyes as I wrestled with the last stubborn lug nut. Another long day on the construction site, another day spent pushing my body to its limits. I was used to it. I was a construction worker, built like a bull, and pride myself on my strength. I could lift steel beams that would make most men wince, and I never backed down from a challenge.
Thirst gnawing at my throat, I stopped at the gas station, the promise of an icy soda beckoning. As I stepped out of my truck, I noticed an elderly man struggling with his car. His back was to me, but I could see his shoulders hunched, his hands trembling as he wrestled with a tire iron. Sweat stained his shirt, and he looked utterly defeated.
Something in his posture, the way his shoulders slumped, the way he seemed to shrink under the weight of the situation, tugged at my heartstrings. I walked over, a question forming on my lips. “Need a hand?”
He startled, turning to face me. His eyes, the color of faded denim, were filled with a mixture of surprise and apprehension. For a moment, he just stared, as if deciding whether to trust this hulking stranger. Then, a flicker of something akin to surrender crossed his face. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rough with exertion, “I think I do.”
As I knelt down, loosening the stubborn lug nut, he began to speak. His voice was weathered, like an old leather boot, but surprisingly steady. “Name’s Arthur,” he introduced himself. “Never been one to ask for help,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Always been the one doing the fixing, the helping.”
He went on to tell me about his life – a life of hard work, of providing for his family, of always being the strong one. His wife, bless her soul, had passed away last year, leaving a gaping hole in his life. “She always told me,” he sighed, “not to be so stubborn. To ask for help when I needed it. But I… I never could. Pride, I guess.”
As I tightened the last lug nut, I looked at him. Arthur was watching me, a flicker of something akin to awe in his eyes. “You don’t know what this means to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
And in that moment, I realized something profound. True strength wasn’t just about brute force, about lifting heavy things and overcoming physical obstacles. True strength lay in acknowledging your limitations, in recognizing when you needed a helping hand, and in having the humility to accept it. It was about recognizing that asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength.
Arthur, in his vulnerability, had taught me a valuable lesson. That day, I not only helped an elderly man change a tire; I learned a valuable lesson about true strength, a lesson that would stay with me long after the memory of the hot summer day and the rusty tire iron faded.
From that day forward, I approached my work with a newfound perspective. I learned to appreciate the value of teamwork, to recognize the strengths of my colleagues, and to ask for help when I needed it. I learned that true strength wasn’t about being invincible, but about knowing when to lean on others and allowing yourself to be vulnerable. And every time I faced a challenge, I would remember Arthur, and the valuable lesson he taught me about the true meaning of strength.
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