My dog sat on my bed every day while I slept, staring intently at the ceiling; for a long time I couldn’t understand the reason for such strange behavior, until one day a tragedy occurred — and I survived only by a miracle 
My dog sat on my bed every day while I slept and stared at the ceiling. At first, I thought it was just a weird habit, but very quickly her behavior became truly frightening.
Lately, she seemed obsessively focused on the same exact spot above my bed. She would sit still for hours, looking upward as if she could see or hear something. Especially at night — I would wake up to the sound of her tense breathing and see her sitting by my feet, staring at the ceiling without blinking.
Sometimes she would suddenly jump up, start barking loudly, and then return to look at the exact same spot.
I would get up, turn on the light, examine the ceiling — nothing. No cracks, no noise, not the slightest movement. I even began to think that my dog was losing her mind, and that I myself was becoming irritable from lack of sleep.
But one night everything became clear. That day a tragedy occurred in our home, and I survived only thanks to my dog. 
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That night she barked again, but this time not just loudly — desperately. She jumped onto the bed, pulled my blanket with force, and literally pushed me to the side, refusing to let me stay in the same spot.
Angry and half-asleep, I got up to chase her out of the room, but she pushed me even harder toward the door, never taking her eyes off the ceiling.
The very next second, a sound echoed through the room — a sound I will never forget. A heavy metallic crack. A creaking noise. A sharp, violent crash.
The ceiling fan broke off its mount and crashed down with a deafening bang right onto the part of the bed where I had been lying just seconds earlier.
The blades sliced into the mattress, bent, and left deep gashes in the fabric. If I hadn’t gotten up — it would have fallen straight onto my chest.
I stood frozen by the door, barely feeling my legs, while my dog whimpered quietly beside me, pressing against me as if she understood she had just saved my life.
Later, when I examined the fan, I discovered that the mounts were almost completely torn out — they must have been creaking and loosening for a long time while I slept without noticing.
But my dog heard everything. The cracking, the vibration, the metal slowly giving way. And every night she tried, in her own way, to warn me.
