My story when I was under school age. It could have been around 1943-1944.
Mother weeded flax in the neighbor’s field and told me and my brother to bring her food for lunch. We then crossed the field, crossed the river and reached the dry ditches. It was a hot day and suddenly I began to look – where is my dress. I look around…and what do I see. A wolf passes in the ditch and is about to jump on us. When I startle, my mouth is closed, not a word comes out. But my brother was better than me, although smaller and 1.5 years younger. He said in a half-whisper: “Miki!”
This was the name of our little furry dog, who was scratching fleas. He turned around and immediately rushed towards the wolf. The wolf set off towards the forest, which was about 1 km away.
We saw how the dog ran after him, but we were afraid that the wolf would eat our dear Miki. He did not come home in the evening. How sad we were…
But in the morning this bloody and dirty guy had arrived home. We caressed him, fed him and did everything we could to keep him alive. A miracle of God! He survived and was our joy and companionship for many more years.
Let it be said that my dress, which I was looking for, was hanging on my arm, but God made it so that I looked for it, but could not see it and therefore I noticed the wolf.
It was after the war. There were a lot of wolves back then.
It’s a miracle that our own dog was a life saver this time.