I was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store. It was crowded and loud. My dog, Titus—a strong, focused Husky service dog—was sitting perfectly still beside me. His body was lightly pressed against my leg, his posture calm and steady, his eyes locked onto my face. He didn’t look away for even a second. A woman behind me tapped my shoulder sharply. “That dog needs a muzzle,” she snapped. “Look at the way he’s staring. He’s dangerous. It’s irresponsible to bring a dog like that into a store.” At that moment, the room started to spin. My vision narrowed, the warning signs hitting all at once. I knew I only had seconds. “He’s not staring because he’s aggressive,” I said, my voice shaking as I gripped Titus’s harness. “He’s staring because he knows something is wrong with me.” Then I collapsed. But I didn’t hit the floor. I landed on Titus. He had already braced his body, ready to catch me. When I came to, the paramedics were there. Titus was lying across my legs, using his body to create space, keeping everyone back. The woman was gone. “Good boy,” one of the EMTs said, gently patting his head. “He didn’t let anyone touch you until we arrived.” He wasn’t preparing to attack. He was prepared to do his job. He was prepared to protect my life. 🐕‍🦺🖤 Educate yourself before you judge. Service dogs come in all shapes and appearances—and they save lives. 🚑 Jasmine limb