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approach. She blocked the girls, lunged at them, and herded them away from the play equipment. The barking was deafening, and, shaken, I called the girls back into the house.

I went straight to the swing set, investigating the scene. What in the world was wrong with my puppy? She pushed against me every time I got hear the teeter-totter and barked in desperation. I saw nothing wrong. I bent down, looking underneath the seats. Nothing there ... but wait! Out of the metal tube that supported the seats came three red hornets. They went for my face. More followed, and Sandy lunged for them.

I ran for the house, my cheeks and chin on fire. "Oh my God!" I thought, horrified, "What if Emily had gotten to the teeter-totter?" My little one and her friend would have been stung repeatedly. They could have gone into anaphylactic shock, or worse. I burst into tears at the thought, splashing water on my face. And I heard my puppy squealing outside.

Just as she saved my child, I knew I must help Sandy. I grabbed some wasp spray, wrapped myself in a blanket, grabbed another blanket, and went out to face the enemy. I felt like Rambo, bursting outside in a cloud of repellent. I sprayed like a crazy lady. Sandy was on the other end of the yard, rolling around in the grass. I sprayed her, too. Mercifully, only a few wasps clung to her body. I brushed them aside, wrapped her up, and lugged her heavy body into the house.

Once inside, I checked the dog and blankets for any red-hornet stragglers. I called the vet, asked what to do about my puppy and the colony of red-hornets colonizing in my backyard, gave Sandy some Benadryl, but ice on her welts, and prayed she was OK. I think she was puzzled over all the fuss! She was just doing her job, and enduring a couple dozen stings was all in a day's work. She just grinned her pretty doggy grin, licked herself, gave herself a good shake, and grabbed her rope toy. She capitalized on her time in the spot-light. "Play tug-o-war with me!" she silently asked us, her sweet brown eyes brimming with love.

Unlike my ex-husband, Sandy is still with us, five years later. She has done dozens of other heroic feats for us over the years - from chasing an intruder out of the backyard to guarding the house like a sentinel. She was a towel for my daughter's tears as she watched her parents' marriage dissolve. She was a towel for my tears as I moved my smaller family to a new city, bought a new house, and started life all over. She has never wavered in her devotion to us. Some angels may have wings. But our angel has golden fur and doggy breath. She is a true dog hero.

Learn more about this author, Melanie Saxton.
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