Yesterday was an absolutely scorching day. The air was still, the asphalt felt like it was melting under my feet, and all I wanted was to get home and turn on the AC. But first, I decided to stop by the supermarket to grab something for dinner.
As I walked through the parking lot, squinting from the sun, I suddenly felt… something strange. I turned around — and saw her. A German Shepherd. She was sitting in a locked car, barely surviving the heat. Panic rose in me instantly:
the windows were fogged from the heat, the dog was panting heavily, tongue out, eyes glazed. It was clear — she was on the brink. If it’s 30°C (86°F) outside, it’s much hotter inside a car.
On the windshield, I noticed a note with a phone number. I called. A man answered. I tried to stay calm:
“Your dog is suffering from the heat. Please come back immediately and at least crack a window open!”
But his reply was cold:
“I left her water. It’s none of your business.”
