When I was a younger girl, around 8, I was walking the two family dogs with my little sister. They were both very well behaved dogs, german shepherd and border collie. In addition to this, they were incredibly smart. About a half mile away from home, a cable truck passes us, pulls over and stops.

Immediately we halted, being as that was odd behavior. Assuming he was checking for directions, we just held still, waiting for him to move on. Only, he didn't. He rolled down the window and gestured us both over. "I'm lost, looking for directions." No, can't help.

At this point, the hackles on the shepherd had started to rise, which she hadn't done to any other human before. Her only enemies were toads. Her anger rose in a flash as he then quickly exited his vehicle and strode toward us. At this point, I completely panicked. There was no way both me and my sister could outrun a grown man. Without a moments thought, I unleashed both dogs to my sister's loud protest. "They know the way home, run!!" And dragged her down the road.

Both dogs immediately ran at the man, staying in between him and the road which we rapidly retreated down. All we heard was ferocious growling and barking, but never any sounds of engagement.

After we made home, lungs on fire, our mom quickly made us identify everything about the vehicle. She called it in to the company and the police. It had been stolen a few days prior and the only suspect was a known child molester.

The dogs made it home later, unscathed. I genuinely believed that they saved me and my baby sister that day. Our border collie is still alive to this day, and we just celebrated her 15th birthday.