I was climbing the ladder to cut the tree branches when my dog grabbed the edge of my pants with his teeth and yanked me down—and suddenly I understood the reason for his strange behavior I was climbing the ladder to cut the tree branches when my dog grabbed the edge of my pants with his teeth and yanked me down—and suddenly I understood the reason for his strange behavior

I remember that day clearly. The morning was gray: the sky covered with clouds, the air still and heavy. It seemed like rain could pour at any moment.

But I decided not to postpone the task—I needed to cut the dry branches of the old apple tree near the house.

The ladder had been ready for a long time, and despite the gloomy sky, I thought: I’ll do it today.

placed the ladder against the trunk and started to climb. But barely had I taken a few steps when I felt a push from behind. I turned around and couldn’t believe my eyes.

My dog was trying to climb the ladder after me. His paws slipped, his claws clattered against the metal, and his eyes were fixed on me.

What are you doing? — I said, nervously smiling. — Stay down.

I tried to shoo him away, waving my hand, but he stood up on his hind legs again, gripping the rungs with his front paws. Then he even grabbed the edge of my pants with his teeth and pulled me down so sharply that I almost lost my balance.

Ow! Are you crazy? — I hissed. — Let go!

But he didn’t let go. He braced himself against the ladder with his paws and pulled me down, as if on purpose.

Inside me, irritation battled with a strange sense of unease. “Why is he doing this?” I thought. “Is he playing? But no, there was something more in his eyes. A persistent warning. As if he were trying to tell me: ‘Don’t go up there.’”

I shooed him away again, even threatening sternly:

— Are you leaving now or not? Let me cut these branches in peace!

But barely had I climbed a little higher when he grabbed my pants again and pulled me down. I barely held on, my heart in my throat—one wrong move and I could have fallen.

I stopped, breathing heavily, and suddenly realized: we wouldn’t get far like this. If he continued, I would truly fall and break everything I could. I had to make a decision.

I climbed down, looked him sternly in the eyes, and said:

— Fine. If you’re so smart, you’ll stay on the chain.

The sky was torn by a bright, blinding light. The crash followed immediately. Lightning struck the tree, right on the trunk I had been about to climb.

A cracking sound rang out, the smell of burnt bark filled the air, and sparks flew in all directions. I jumped back, covering my face with my hands.

For a moment, I froze, unable to breathe. Only after a few seconds did I realize: if it weren’t for my stubborn dog, I would have been up there, on that ladder, right in the canopy. And then…

I looked at him. He was standing by the kennel, chain taut, looking at me with that very gaze that carried more understanding than many human words.

— My God… — I whispered, feeling shivers run down my skin. — You saved my life.

I crouched beside him, hugged him around the neck, and he gently wagged his tail, as if he knew he had done the right thing.

And then I realized: sometimes our animals see and feel things that we humans do not.