During my holiday in Hurghada in Egypt, I one day found a severely injured dog lying in the street. I couldn’t close my eyes and simply leave him to suffer or die. So I decided to take him to a veterinarian immediately – it was his last chance to survive.

The vet provided medical care, but his life depended on whether treatment could continue. From the very first moment, I fell in love with this little fighter. That’s why I made the decision to take responsibility for him and brought him into my care.

One month later, I had another fateful encounter: I found his sister. She was locked up, terribly emaciated, and full of fear. I will never forget that moment – the first touch, holding her in my arms and taking her back to my apartment. I said to her, “If you want, you can stay with us. If not, you are free now.”

She stayed. And from the second day on, she and her brother were inseparable. I named them Lilly and Honey. The three of us were incredibly happy together. But then came the day that changed everything. My beloved Lilly had eaten poisoned bait, and all help came too late. I lost my soul dog – a loss that still fills me with deep sadness even four years later.