One night, while on the night shift at the hospital in York, I overheard a fragment of a colleagues phone call. He muttered, irritated, Take him wherever you like, do whatever you want with him, I cant take it any longer!
Curiosity pricked me. I asked what he meant. He answered that he was giving away a dog, a German Shepherd.
Why? I asked.
Its a nightmare, he waved his hand away. He howls at night, breaks free from his chain, sheds a sea of fur, makes the yard a mess, and doesnt guard the house at all.
I felt sorry for the creature. I called my father, asking if he needed a guard dog for his estate in the Cotswolds. After a while he called back and said, Bring him over.
The appointed day arrived. We piled into my dads old Austin, slipped a bandage into the backseat just in case a strange precaution for a wild beast.
When we pulled up, the colleague stood there with the dog: gaunt, its coat tangled, fresh blood staining its head, a torn pad on one paw. The animals eyes were mournful, as if on the verge of a silent sob.
The dog hopped into the car by itself, calm and unthreatening. Beside him, my sisters husband, Tom, settled into the passenger seat, and the whole journey the dog lay still.
At home we thought the first order of business would be a new collar, a leash, and a bath. Mother and sisterEvelyn, peeking from the hallwaywatched us cautiously, halfexpecting a ferocious monster.
While we drove, Mother prepared a pot of oat porridge with diced lamb. The food cooled, and we offered the dog a piece of stale bread as a test. It was more painful to watch him lunge greedily at that tiny morsel than to stare at his fresh wounds.
A healthy German Shepherd usually weighs around 35kg; this one was barely twenty. The moment we set down a bowl of food, he devoured it in an instant and settled on the spot wed marked for him.
Later, Mother reached for the bowl to rinse it, holding it behind her back. Suddenly she felt something lightly lift it from her grip. It was Busterso the dog was calledwho took the bowl gently in his teeth, carried it to his corner, and rested beside it, as if to say, Its mine, Ill look after it myself.
We hadnt intended to keep a fiveyearold male dog in a flat; we thought Mother would object. Yet her heart softened, and no one could refuse a creature so devoted.
After a thorough wash and a brushout, Buster seemed transformed. The next day I took him to the local vet in Leicester. They explained how to treat his wounds; I bought the prescribed medicines and, within a fortnight, completed all his vaccinations. I didnt blame his former ownersperhaps he truly had fled and suffered out on the streets.
When Buster fully recovered, we enrolled him in basic obedience classes. In the summer, my parents would take him to their country cottage, where he patrolled the garden fence like a genuine guardian: no stranger dared approach. Forty kilograms of raw power commanded respect.
Eight years have passed since that night. Buster endured two operationsa hernia repair and later complications from it. His joints grew achy, arthritis set in, but we tend to him, support him, love him. Now hes an old gentleman; Father calls him sonny affectionately, and Mother spoils him like a child.
I cannot comprehend how anyone could have relinquished such a dog. His loyalty and tenderness seem boundless. Caring for an animal demands effort, yet none of us can now picture a home without him. When Father is away or one of us is offshore, Buster sighs, refuses food, and waits.
A few years after Buster arrived, our longstanding cat, Whiskers, who had been with the family for over eighteen years, passed away. Fate turned again: a stray kitten was left in the stairwell by a tenant. Neighbours fed it until I realised I could not let the little thing freeze in November. Now the cheeky, bold cat named Daisy lives with us.
People, be kinder to animals. They feel every tremor of pain and love. Choose love, and they will return it tenfold.
