The one who truly watched over the most zealous minister of God in so many dangers was divine providence, and sometimes by very unusual means. There are things that seem like legends of some hermit from the Thebaid or of a saint from the Middle Ages, and yet they are from today and have had many eyewitnesses.

The Valdoco neighborhood was then uninhabited. Its few shacks were scattered among uncultivated fields and thickets that lent themselves to ambushes and surprises. That is why friends advised Don Bosco to be very cautious and not to be out of the house after dusk, but nothing could stop him when it came to souls or the well-being of his boys.

One night, in the year 1852, he was returning home alone and not without a certain fear, when, as if coming out of the ground, he saw an enormous dog of unknown breed, with gray fur, long snouts, upright ears, and a meter in height, approach him. At first he was wary, but then, seeing that it did not threaten him but instead showed signs of affection, he quickly struck up a friendly bond with it. The beautiful animal accompanied him up to the oratory and then, without going inside, left.

And this kept happening every time he was unable to return home on time or was not accompanied by trustworthy people. As soon as he passed the last buildings, he would see the Gray One come out from one side or the other of the street. Several times it happened that Mama Margarita, when her son had not arrived, would send a young man to meet him, and they always saw him accompanied by his mysterious guardian. The first time a neighbor saw that dog, he tried to drive it away by throwing stones, but to his great astonishment, the animal remained unfazed by the blows, so much so that the good man exclaimed in fear, "A spell!"

There were many dangers from which the Gray Dog saved Don Bosco. One night, as rain threatened and the sky was covered with clouds, between the Church of the Consolation and the Cotolengo Hospital, two men suddenly threw themselves at him. The first covered his head with a blanket, and the other gagged him. He already thought he was lost when a roar was heard and the Gray Dog appeared. He knocked the outlaws to the ground. He removed the blanket and saw one of them escaping quickly. The other, lying on the ground in a critical situation, his throat squeezed by the dog's claws, exclaimed humbly, "Sir, call off your dog, he is killing me." "Yes, I will call him, but be careful not to bother someone who walks peacefully." The dog obeyed, and the criminal hurried to flee.

Once again, the dog, instead of accompanying him home, blocked his way by standing in the doorway and growling terribly whenever he tried to pass. Then good Margarita said to her son, "If you will not listen to me, listen to the dog and do not go out." When Don Bosco saw his mother so worried, he thought it reasonable to fulfill her wish and went back inside.

Not a quarter of an hour had passed when a neighbor came to advise him to be on guard, because he had learned that three or four individuals were lurking nearby, determined to deal him a deadly blow. This time it was not just one or two conspirators but a mob of assassins. He was returning home late at night. Everything was, or seemed, deserted. Suddenly, an individual, posted behind a tree and armed with a club, sprang at him. With his characteristic agility, Don Bosco delivered a punch that left the man stunned on the ground, moaning, "I'm dying, I'm dying!"

Don Bosco believed he was free, but quite a few bandits, armed with clubs, emerged from among the trees. There was no possible resistance. Suddenly, the gray dog appeared and attacked them in such a way that they fled. Years later, in 1866, he had to go from Murialdo to Mancúco, crossing woods that were not at all safe, and night fell upon him unexpectedly. "Oh, if only I had my gray dog!" And as if it had heard him, it appeared by his side. It did not save him from thieves that time, but it did protect him from two enormous molosser mastiffs that attacked him as he passed near a vineyard.

As soon as he arrived at his destination, all those who were waiting for him for dinner were amazed at the dog's beauty and began to argue about its breed. They offered it all kinds of treats, but they could not get it to try any. Puzzled by such stubbornness, they locked it in a room. "He will eat tomorrow," they said. The next morning, they went to set it free: the gray one had disappeared. Door and windows were closed. No one ever knew the gray one's lineage, nor where it came from, nor where it went once its mission was accomplished, in each case.

At that time, says Ascanio Sabio, there were many plots against the life of Don Bosco. An impious newspaper had threatened to strangle him, precisely because of the zeal he showed in defending the faith and undoing the errors of the Protestants. But divine providence made use of that dog, a symbol of loyalty, to protect him. “Once or twice,” Don Bosco confessed, “I had the intention of finding out where that animal came from and to whom it might belong. But then I thought: let it belong to whomever it may, as long as he is a friend of mine, all I know is that dog was truly providential for me in the many dangers I faced.”

Padre Alfonso Gálvez