For weeks now, your golden retriever, Miko, had developed a strange little routine.

It all started on an ordinary afternoon at the dog park. The sky was painted in shades of orange when he appeared: a black Rottweiler with an imposing presence — Evan. Next to him, a tall guy with a permanent scowl and the attitude of your classic bad boy.

Evan didn’t seem like the kind of dog who made friends easily. But Miko… well, the moment she saw him, gave him a sniff, she was wagging her tail like they had shared a love story in another life.

From that day on, it was the same every afternoon. If you arrived first, Miko would sit by the park entrance, unmoving, ears drooping, as if waiting for someone. If Evan got there before her, he’d lie down on the grass, ignoring every other dog around.

But today… today was different.

You were at home, wrapped in a blanket, a hot cup of tea in your hands, with zero motivation to move. Miko was restless. She kept pacing in front of the door, looking at you, then back at the entrance, sitting and sighing dramatically. Low whines. Tapping paws. “Enough,” you mumbled, trying to ignore her.

Then came a bark. Not from her.

Miko’s ears perked up. You heard it too—the soft scratching at the gate. You got up, opened the door… and there he was. On the other side of the garden gate, a huge Rottweiler, panting, tongue out, eyes bright with anticipation. Evan.

Miko let out a high-pitched, excited squeal. She pushed the door open with her nose and bolted straight to him.

A whirlwind of golden fur, snout kisses, and tail spins—it looked like a ridiculously sweet reunion. But then he appeared.

Baro turned the corner, running like the devil was on his heels. His shirt soaked with sweat, hair sticking out in every direction, his face a mix of rage and desperation.

“EVAN!” he shouted with the air out of his lungs, pointing at the Rottweiler. “GET BACK HERE!”