My dog charged toward my two-year-old daughter, barking with his teeth bared… I thought he had turned on her—until I spotted one tiny detail behind her.

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“Yes,” I whispered. “Rex was very loud.”

She looked at him for a moment, then wrapped her small arms around his neck.

“Good Rex,” she said.

Rex closed his eyes.

Since that day, every time someone calls him just a dog, I think about the sound of that latch. I think about the open gate. I think about the car passing the place where my daughter had almost continue reading …