It was a quiet Thursday night when four young men rushed me in my garage, demanding my car keys. Before I could react, they knocked me to the ground. But what they didn’t expect were my two 280-pound Pit Bulls—rescues who were sweethearts to me but warriors when it mattered.
As the intruders entered my house, my dogs charged, growling fiercely. The men panicked, scrambling to escape, one tripping over himself. My dogs stood over me, checking if I was okay.
