The first time I smashed a car window to save a dog, I was nineteen years old and still in training.

I grabbed the punch tool from my duty belt and shattered the rear side window in one strike.

The heat rolling out of that car hit me like opening an oven.

I unlocked the door and lifted the dog out.

She weighed fifty-eight pounds, but in that moment she felt almost fragile enough to disappear in my arms.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I remember saying. “Stay with me.”