Man's Best Friend

 It’s often said that people don’t like to involve themselves in others’ problems. Perhaps they believe that it isn’t their responsibility, or maybe they are afraid of bringing consequences down upon themselves. Either way, very few people will stand up to defend someone else in danger.

Harper hadn’t truly understood this until she was on the opposite side of the situation; not as the person standing up for another, but as the victim to be defended.

Even as she screamed for help, backing away in fear from the mugger who had cornered her, she knew she wouldn’t receive any help. Although the alleyway she stood in was dark and damp, she could see the bright street right outside it.

Not a single person there stopped to help her. Sure, they hesitated at the shrieks, pausing to see what was happening, but not one of them approached the situation to offer help. They just glanced away with guilty looks and shuffled away, eagerly returning to their regular lives.

She wasn’t such a hypocrite that she’d claim that she would have stopped to help the person in need if she was in their shoes. She was all of five feet tall, and knew she would be useless in giving aid. Yet this didn’t stop Harper’s heart from filling with resentment at the cruelty of the human psyche.

“Help! Please help me!” She yelled once more, back hitting the grimy walls as the mugger inched closer. There was no response, no mysterious saviour.

“Just hand over whatever money you have,” Threatened the man in the black balaclava, brandishing a knife that glinted in the light from the street. “And I won’t touch a hair on your head.”

Harper’s breathing quickened. “I don’t have any money on me!” She cried, suddenly regretting spending the few dollars she had left with on hotdogs. If she hadn’t, she could’ve given this man something so she could get away.

Clearly, he didn’t believe her, as he spun his weapon with a little chuckle. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Her eyes locked onto the sharp knife, widening as it moved closer to her. She squeezed them shut in terror, flinching away instinctively at the thought of pain. Harper’s mind was blank for a moment, all thoughts wiped away in the face of the mugger’s threats.

There was silence for a moment. The expected injury never arrived. Instead, she heard the criminal scream in pain as the sound of the metal knife hitting the ground echoed in the narrow alleyway.

A growling sound near her alerted her of the change in her circumstances, and she opened her eyes. Near her stood a mangy black dog, its fur matted and a leg injured. Yet, it stood protectively in front of her, hackles raised. 

On the other hand, the would-be-robber was on the ground, sobbing and clutching his arm which had previously held the sharp implement of violence. The sleeve was bloodied and torn, and a quick glance at the dog’s sharp teeth revealed what had happened.

It growled once more, and barked sharply at the injured man. He flinched away, eyes widening as he watched the animal begin to approach him once again. Before it could get too close, he quickly got up with some effort and ran away, the knife left abandoned on the ground.

Harper watched this happen with an awed look. As she watched the mugger leave, she heaved a sigh of relief. The dog had stopped emitting ominous noises, and was instead watching her with large black eyes that seemed to be filled with concern. Although she had just watched it mangle a man, she wasn’t afraid of it.

Instead, she sat down beside it and lifted a hand to its head, running her fingers through the dirty fur. It never made a menacing move towards her, just watching her with wide eyes and a wagging tail. The only sound that filled the cramped area now was that of a happy panting dog.

“How would you like to come home with me, big guy?” Harper murmured, scratching it behind the ears. It barked sharply, and she grinned like she had received a response. “I’m going to call you Hunter.”