It had been a long week on the road. I’d been driving for days, chasing tight deadlines, and the fatigue was hitting hard. My rig and I had seen endless miles of highway, and all I wanted was a quick stop for gas and a cup of coffee before finding a spot to rest.
I pulled into a small, almost deserted gas station in the middle of nowhere. As I stepped out, I heard a faint whimper. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but then I saw him — a skinny, scruffy dog curled up near the dumpster, shivering in the cold. His eyes met mine, and I swear he looked desperate for help.
I grabbed a sandwich from my cab and crouched down, offering it to him. He was wary but hungry enough to inch closer. When he finally took it, his tail wagged just a little, and that was it — I couldn’t leave him there.
The station attendant told me the dog had been hanging around for days, likely abandoned. My heart sank. How could someone just leave a loyal creature like this?
I opened my truck door and patted the seat. “Come on, buddy,” I said. To my surprise, he jumped right in, like he’d been waiting for someone to give him a chance.
I named him Diesel, fitting for a trucker’s dog. He’s been riding with me ever since, keeping me company on those long, lonely highways. He curls up in the passenger seat and watches the world go by, and every time he looks at me, it feels like he’s saying “thank you.”
I didn’t set out to find a dog that day, but Diesel found me — and I wouldn’t trade him for anything.
Source: Amomama