I was rushing down County Road 12 on a chaotic morning, already late for an important meeting, when something near the ditch caught my eye—a cluster of four boxer puppies, soaked, muddy, and visibly shaking.

I almost kept driving. It was one of those days where every minute counted. But there was no way I could leave them there.

No homes nearby. No mother dog in sight. Just a soggy cardboard box barely holding together and four terrified puppies huddled close.

I pulled over, grabbed an old hoodie from my back seat, and gently wrapped them up. I drove straight home, gave them a quick rinse in the tub, and dried them off with whatever towels I had clean.

Then I started doing what anyone would: scanning for microchips and posting in local lost-and-found pet groups. That’s when I noticed something chilling.

One of the puppies had a beat-up yellow collar. Tucked under it was a tiny metal tag with two words scratched in by hand:

“Not Yours.”

Later that afternoon, my friend Tate—who works as a vet tech—came by to help. The moment he saw the tag, he stopped cold.

“I’ve seen this before,” he said, looking spooked. “This… this might not be just a case of abandoned puppies.”

He wouldn’t say more, but his tone said enough. We scanned all the pups. Only one—the one with the yellow collar—had a chip. It was old, registered years ago to a veterinary clinic a few counties over. No updated records. No working contact info.

Now I’m left with more questions than answers. Who left these puppies out there? What did that message mean? And what are these pups running from?