Sgt. Victor had just returned from deployment in Marawi, expecting to finally hold his wife Sarah after nine long months apart.

Instead of a warm embrace, he was met with a coffin in the middle of his own home.

“It was a heart attack, Pare. It happened so suddenly,” Sarah’s brother Eric said, his voice shaky—though it sounded rehearsed. “There was nothing we could do.”

Victor felt his world collapse. He had risked his life serving others, only to come home to this?

Beside the coffin stood Tagpi, their loyal Golden Retriever. The dog was restless, barking nonstop and scratching at the wood.

“Shut that dog up!” Eric snapped, even kicking Tagpi. “Show some respect!”

“Don’t touch him,” Victor warned, stepping between them. He knelt beside the dog. “What is it, boy? Do you miss Mommy?”

But Tagpi wouldn’t calm down. He barked again, staring straight at Victor, then nudged the coffin and tugged at Victor’s pant leg insistently.

A chill ran through Victor. Years as a soldier had trained him to sense when something wasn’t right. And he trusted this dog.

He stood up slowly.

“Open the coffin,” Victor ordered.

Eric’s face went pale. “W-Why? She’s already prepared. The doctor said it shouldn’t be opened… something about infection—”

“I don’t care,” Victor said, his tone firm, his hand resting near his holster. “Open it. Now.”

Intimidated, the funeral staff obeyed.

Victor looked down at Sarah. She was pale—but something felt off.

Tagpi barked sharply again.

Victor took Sarah’s hand. It wasn’t ice-cold. There was still warmth.

He leaned closer, holding his breath.

Then he heard it.

A faint, fragile breath.

“She’s alive!” Victor shouted. “Call an ambulance!”

Panic erupted. Eric tried slipping away, but Victor grabbed him with an iron grip.

“Where are you going?” Victor demanded.

“N-No! I was just getting help!”

Paramedics arrived and examined Sarah quickly.

“Sir, she’s alive,” one medic confirmed. “She appears to be in a drug-induced coma. An overdose of sedatives. If she had been buried, she would have suffocated.”

Victor turned to Eric, fury blazing in his eyes.

“What did you do?”

Eric collapsed to his knees. “I’m sorry! I have gambling debts! I needed the insurance money before you came back. I thought… I thought she wouldn’t wake up!”

“You were going to bury your own sister alive for money?” Victor said in disbelief.

Overcome with rage, Victor struck him. Eric fell unconscious.

Sarah was rushed to the hospital. After several days of treatment, she finally opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was Victor holding her hand—and Tagpi resting faithfully beside the bed.

“Victor…” she whispered weakly. “The last thing I remember… Kuya Eric gave me juice… then everything went black.”

Victor embraced her carefully. “You’re safe now. Tagpi saved you. If not for him…”

Eric was arrested and charged with attempted parricide. He would spend years paying for his crime.

As for Tagpi—he became a hero in their home. From that day on, he wasn’t just the family pet. He was the guardian who proved that loyalty sometimes runs deeper than blood.

END.