The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over the quiet street. The air was crisp, and the faint scent of blooming jasmine drifted from the neighbor’s garden. Lala, a cheerful golden retriever with soft, fluffy fur and bright, trusting eyes, stretched on the porch of her small home. Morning walks were her favorite part of the day. They meant new smells, friendly greetings, and sometimes a tasty treat from Mr. Daro at the bakery down the road.
But this morning felt… strange.
Lala’s owner, Mrs. Sokha, stepped out with a cheerful “Good morning, girl!” as she grabbed her bag. They were supposed to go to the market together—Lala riding happily in the passenger seat, head poking out of the window. Mrs. Sokha unlocked the gate, humming a tune, and walked toward their small blue pickup truck.
Then, everything stopped.
Her humming cut off, replaced by a sharp gasp.
Lala trotted after her, tail wagging in confusion, but when she saw where Mrs. Sokha was staring, her tail froze mid-swing.
The front of the truck looked… wrong. The windshield wasn’t smooth and shiny like usual. It had gaps—big rectangular spaces where the protective panels used to be. The tinted plastic that shielded them from the glaring Cambodian sun was gone. Vanished.
Lala tilted her head, ears perked. She didn’t understand exactly what had happened, but she knew it wasn’t good. The smell was different too—sharp, metallic, with faint traces of human scent that didn’t belong to Mrs. Sokha or anyone Lala knew.
“Oh no…” Mrs. Sokha whispered, running her fingers along the empty frame. “The panels… they’re gone. Someone stole them.”
Lala whimpered softly, pressing her warm nose against her owner’s hand. She could feel the tension in Mrs. Sokha’s body. This wasn’t just an inconvenience. The panels weren’t cheap, and without them, driving under the hot sun would be almost unbearable.
They stood there in silence for a moment, the street still quiet except for the distant sound of a rooster. Lala’s eyes scanned the road, ears swiveling toward every small noise. Somewhere out there, the thief might still be lurking.
Mrs. Sokha shook her head and sighed. “We’ll have to call the police.”
While she went inside to get her phone, Lala padded to the edge of the driveway and sat, watching. Her heart was thudding in her chest, the way it did when thunder was coming. She didn’t like this feeling—this heaviness that made her want to bark and hide at the same time.
A few minutes later, Officer Vuthy arrived on his small motorbike, parking it carefully at the side of the road. He was a kind man with a round face and a calm voice. He crouched to scratch Lala behind the ears before walking over to inspect the truck.
“Looks like they took them clean off,” he said, running his hand over the empty frame. “Must’ve been quick. Probably sometime late last night.”
Lala stayed close, watching him intently. She sniffed the ground, catching that unfamiliar scent again. It was faint, mixed with the smell of oil and dust, but it was there. She let out a low growl without realizing it.
“What is it, girl?” Officer Vuthy asked.
She padded a few steps toward the corner of the street, nose to the ground. The trail wasn’t strong, but she was sure of it. Someone had walked here, carrying something large and shiny. She could almost picture it—dark shadows moving quietly while everyone slept.
Unfortunately, the trail faded at the main road, swallowed by the overwhelming mix of scents from passing cars and motorbikes. Lala sat down with a frustrated huff.
Officer Vuthy took some notes and promised to check nearby security cameras. “These thieves target car parts they can sell quickly,” he explained. “Windshield panels like yours are valuable to the right buyers.”
Mrs. Sokha nodded, but her face was still troubled. “It’s going to cost a lot to replace them…”
Hearing the sadness in her voice made Lala’s chest tighten. She didn’t understand money, but she understood when her human was hurting. And she hated it.
That night, Lala stayed unusually alert. Every creak, every rustle of leaves made her ears twitch. She even barked at the neighbor’s cat when it wandered too close to the driveway. Mrs. Sokha, seeing her restless, placed a gentle hand on her head.
“It’s okay, girl. We’ll figure it out.”
But Lala wasn’t so sure.
The next day, news spread around the neighborhood. It turned out they weren’t the only ones—two other cars on the same street had missing panels. People gathered in small groups, talking in worried voices. Some mentioned installing security lights or cameras.
Mr. Daro from the bakery brought over some bread for Mrs. Sokha. “You’re lucky you have Lala. If she had seen them, I’m sure she would have chased them away.”
Lala wagged her tail at the praise, but inside, she felt guilty. She should have noticed something. She was supposed to protect her home and family.
Later that week, Officer Vuthy returned with news. A shop on the other side of town had tried to sell panels matching the stolen ones. Thanks to security footage and a tip from another officer, they found the thieves—a small group who had been targeting parked cars in the area.
When the panels were finally returned, slightly scratched but still usable, Lala was there as they were reattached to the truck. She sniffed them thoroughly, committing the thieves’ scent to memory. If they ever came back, she would know.
Mrs. Sokha hugged her tightly. “Thank you for watching over me, girl. I know you can’t catch every bad person, but you’re always here for me.”
Lala leaned into her embrace, feeling the warmth of relief. The heaviness in her chest lifted. The panels were back, and so was Mrs. Sokha’s smile.
From that day on, Lala made it her mission to be extra watchful, especially at night. She didn’t just guard a truck—she guarded the peace of their little home. And if trouble ever tried to sneak up again, she’d be ready.
Even though she couldn’t understand every human problem, Lala knew one thing for certain: as long as she was by Mrs. Sokha’s side, she would do everything in her power to keep her safe.
And deep down, Mrs. Sokha knew the same.
