Go Away and Never Come Back — Go, Do You Hear Me? Go and Never Return! Never. With trembling hands, Michael unclipped the heavy metal chain, dragged Berta to the garden gate and, flinging it wide open, tried to push her out onto the road. But she didn’t understand what was happening. Was she really being thrown out? But why? She hadn’t done anything wrong… “Go, please, I’m begging you,” Michael repeated as he hugged the dog tight. “You can’t stay here. He’ll be back any minute and…” Just then, the front door slammed open, and a drunken Victor staggered out onto the porch with an axe in his hand. ***** If people could imagine, even for a moment, how harsh life is for the dogs abandoned to the streets through no fault of their own, perhaps they would look at them with sympathy and compassion, not resentment or disdain, as so often happens. But how can we know what our four-legged friends go through, what trials they must face? How can we possibly understand? Dogs cannot tell us their stories. They cannot complain about their fate. All their pain, they carry in silence. But I will tell you one story—one of love, betrayal and loyalty… And my story begins with Berta, who was unwanted from her very first days. No one really knows what it was about her that displeased her first owner. Maybe just for being born. And he could think of nothing better than to take the then two-month-old puppy to the nearest village and… just leave her by the roadside. Yes, just abandon her—not even in the village where someone might have taken her in, but right on the edge of the road. He drove away with a clear conscience, leaving her in harm’s way, where cars, buses, lorries sped past at terrifying speeds—a single misstep and that was it. Perhaps that’s what he hoped would happen. If not, what chance did she have to survive alone, hungry and thirsty? She was only a baby. But that day luck was on her side. That day, the nameless little pup met Michael. And thanks to him, she lived. It happened on the very day Michael was given a brand new bike for his fourteenth birthday. He couldn’t wait to take it for a spin. “Don’t ride out of the village!” called out his mother, Annie, as Michael cycled off, excitement in his legs. “Alright, Mum! Everything will be fine!” chirped Michael as he whisked away. But of course, he left the village. The roads in the village were full of potholes—awful to ride on, and hard to walk, especially at night. Just a month ago, the city road had been freshly paved, and Michael wanted to feel the wind in his hair. There weren’t many cars out on a weekend morning. So, as he neared the road and prepared to turn back, he noticed a tiny pup running frantically at the roadside—darting toward passing cars, then jumping back just in time. Horrified, Michael pulled over, gently placed his bike in the grass, and approached the trembling puppy. ***** “Mum, Dad, look who I found!” beamed Michael as he entered the house. “Someone dumped her by the road. Can we keep her? Please?” “Michael, did you leave the village? I told you not to!” Annie exclaimed. “Sorry, Mum… I just wanted to ride to the road and back. And look—I didn’t go for nothing. If I hadn’t picked up this pup, she might have died!” “What about you?” sighed Annie. “You could’ve been hit, too. Roads are no place for children.” “I won’t do it again, I promise. But what about the puppy? Can we keep her? Please? It’s my birthday, after all.” “It is your birthday, isn’t it?” Annie shook her head. Michael clutched the puppy tightly, afraid she’d be taken back out to the roadside. “Annie, stop scolding the boy,” Michael’s dad, Victor, interrupted, his mood bright from a few celebratory drinks. “He’s fourteen now. And look, he picked up a fine pup—not a scraggy mutt but a proper one. She’ll look after the yard. Let him keep her. I’ve no problem.” “Well, if Dad says yes, then I do, too,” Annie smiled at her son. “Thank you! You’re the best parents in the world!” Michael was overjoyed. That very day he named the puppy—Berta. At first, he thought she was a boy, but he quickly realised she was a girl—a good girl: kind, gentle, and instantly attached to Michael. The bike was forgotten. From then on, Michael spent every hour with his fluffy four-legged friend. Life at last seemed perfect—Berta safe from death, Michael finally with the dog he’d always dreamed of. His parents were happy to see their son so happy, too. Fairy tale ending? If only. Trouble came—six months later. It started when Victor lost his job and began drinking heavily, spending all the family savings. No pleas or tears from Annie could sway him; they only made him angrier, more cruel, especially with vodka in his blood. He even began hitting Annie, for any or no reason at all. And Annie strictly forbade Michael from interfering. “You could get hurt too,” she would say. “Better not try your luck.” During arguments, Michael escaped to Berta, stroking her, watching the house as his parents fought. Berta would gently lick Michael’s salty cheeks. Once Victor caught Michael playing with Berta and, without provocation, gave him a series of rough cuffs round the head. Michael tried to hold back the tears, tried to break free, but Victor’s grip was fierce. Suddenly, mild, gentle Berta barked fiercely at Victor—so fiercely he froze. Michael seized his chance and pulled away. But Victor stormed into the house, slurring threats of violence. Michael knew he would be back—with something heavy. What could he do? “Go, do you hear me?” Michael whispered, tears flowing. “Go, and don’t come back! Never.” His hands trembled as he undid Berta’s chain, tugged her to the gate, and tried to push her out. She didn’t understand—was this really goodbye? “Please, you must go,” Michael repeated, hugging her close. “It’s not safe here. Dad will be back and…” At that moment, the door crashed open and Victor, axe in hand, staggered onto the porch. “Michael!” came his father’s enraged roar. “Why did you let the dog go?” “Dad, please, don’t—” Michael stammered, backing away. He wanted to run, but couldn’t leave his mother inside with the madman. “Don’t touch the dog, Dad. Just go sleep it off. You’re not yourself—” “Oh, I’ll show you, you insolent whelp! I’ll deal with that mangy mutt and then teach you some respect!” Victor lurched forward, losing his footing but clinging to the rail, lumbering down the steps. “Hurry!” Michael turned to Berta, looked her in the eyes, kissed her black nose, and with a desperate shove, sent her out into the road. “Run! Run and forgive us… forgive us, Berta. I never wanted this.” Fury twisted Victor’s face as he realised Michael was letting the dog go. Berta looked at Michael one last time before bolting towards the woods—her only chance of survival. “Don’t come back, Berta, or he’ll kill you!” Michael yelled after her. What happened next, Berta never saw. She could only hope her beloved friend and his mother would be safe. ***** Seven years passed—a lifetime for a dog. Seven years Berta waited for a miracle, hoping to see Michael again, but each year hope faded as she never found Michael or Annie. Returning to her old home after six months, she found only a charred ruin of a house. No Michael, no Annie, certainly no Victor. She came back a few times, but always alone. Eventually, Berta wandered from village to village, until an old man found her, outside the very forest she once ran into. “Lost, are you?” the grey-haired, bearded man chuckled. “Want to live with me?” And Berta did. She had no other choice. The old man, though partial to drink, was kind. He fed her well and took her to work with him—as a night caretaker at a cemetery. At first, Berta hated the graves, but in time, she grew used to them—and to Nicholas, her lonely companion. When he drank, he didn’t turn cruel, but wept and confided his heartbreak—about the wife who left, the daughter who wanted nothing to do with him. Berta would snuggle by his feet and listen in silence. And when Nicholas fell silent, Berta remembered the happy days with Michael and Annie—and tried to forget Victor for good. One day, Berta came across Victor’s grave. She sniffed it, not believing it—yet the hateful, bitter scent was unmistakable. “You’re stuck there, are you?” Nicholas said, noticing her halted by the grave. “Victor, it says… Must be the one who drank himself to death in his own house after the family left for the city.” Five years Berta stayed at the cemetery, until Nicholas, too, died, leaving her alone once more. She stayed on. Where else could she go? No one would take in an old dog now. She decided she’d wait for the end among the stones. But then, when the first snow fell, the impossible happened. While searching for food, Berta heard voices—by Victor’s grave. A man and a woman. She crept closer—curious who would visit him. “Told you, Ox,” the man said, “it’s pointless coming here. Why should I care about the grave of a father who made life hell for my mum and me? Forgive him? For what?” “You have to, Michael,” said the woman. “Forgive and let go. Otherwise, you’ll never have peace. Your nightmares will go on forever.” “Maybe you’re right…” Michael sighed, looked at the grave and said, “I forgive you, Dad— for Mum, for myself, for Berta… I just wish I hadn’t had to send my best friend away. I hope she’s alright.” All the while, Berta stood behind Michael, scarcely believing it was him—her beloved person. He was grown, a man now, but she knew him instantly. Would Michael know her? He turned, feeling eyes on his back. “Mike, what is it?” Oksana asked. “It’s a dog,” Michael replied. “Silly—there are lots of dogs at the cemetery.” But Michael stared, stepped closer, hesitated—then stepped closer again. Berta wagged her tail and crept forward. Then they both ran—flinging themselves into each other’s embrace. Oksana barely had time to react before Michael was kneeling, hugging the dog he hadn’t seen in seven years, while Berta licked his cheeks, nose and chin in a joyful frenzy. Her greatest dream had come true at last. ***** Of course, Michael brought Berta home. She and Oksana became fast friends, and soon their little family grew. First three of them, then four—when Berta found a tiny kitten and no one could resist taking him in. Then five, when a baby boy named Nick arrived. Later, Michael rebuilt the house in the village, and every year they spent summers there together. Despite all the pain and trials that life brought, both Michael and Berta found happiness.

Go Away and Dont Come Back

Go. Do you hear me? I whispered, my eyes full of tears. Go and never come back! Never.

With trembling hands, I unhooked the heavy metal chain, dragged Tess to the gate, and, throwing it wide open, tried to push her onto the lane.

But she didnt understand what was happening.

Was she really being thrown out? For what? Shed done nothing wrong…

Please, just go, I repeated, wrapping my arms around the dog. You cant stay here. Hes coming back, and

Right then the door flew open, and my dad, Frank, lurched onto the porch, axe in hand, drunk as ever.

*****

If people could for a moment imagine how tough life can be for dogs forced onto the streets, perhaps theyd treat them better. At the very least, theyd look with pity, not contempt, as is so often the case.

But how could people know what tests our four-legged friends must face, what hardships they endure? How would they ever know?

Dogs cant speak for themselves or complain about their fate. They carry their pain in silence.

But let me tell you a storya tale of love, betrayal, and loyalty…

Ill begin with Tess, who was unwanted from a very young age.

Why her first owner didnt take to herI really dont know. Maybe simply because she was born at all?

Her owner, lacking any better idea, drove the two-month-old puppy to the nearest village and simply… left her by the roadside.

Yes, just left her.

He couldnt be bothered to drive into the village, where someone might have taken her in. No, he abandoned her by the main road and headed back to the city without a backwards glance.

That busy road was a death trap: cars, lorries, buses all roaring past. One wrong move and she could have been killed.

Maybe thats what he planned.

And even if fate spared her the wheels, she wouldnt last long without food or water. She was just a pup.

But that day, luck smiled on her.

That day, she met me.

It happened as I was trying out my birthday presenta shiny new bike. Id just turned fourteen and couldnt wait for my first real ride.

Dont go past the village, Mum called outas I hopped on my iron horse and pedaled down the lane. Did you hear me, Jamie?

All right, Mum… I shouted back with a grin. Itll be finepromise!

But of course, I did go beyond the village. The local lanes were in tatters, riddled with potholes so deep even walking was risky. A new tarmac road leading to town had just been laid out last month, and I couldnt resist. It was bliss to ride with the wind.

Hardly anyone used the road, especially on weekends.

Just as I was about to turn back, I spotted a tiny puppy darting back and forth by the verge, straight out of her wits. She kept dashing at cars and bolting away at the last moment. It was dreadful to watch.

Whats going on with her?… What is she even doing there? I wondered, hopping off my bike.

I gently laid the bike in the grass and walked over quickly.

*****

Mum, Dad, look who I found! I beamed, coming through the kitchen. Someone dumped her by the road. Can we keep her? Shes lovely.

Jamie! Did you leave the village? Mum, Catherine, looked cross. I told you not to!

I just rode up to the road and back, I said, lowering my eyes. If I hadnt, she might have been killed.

And what about you? Mum sighed. Didnt you think of yourself? You could have been hit by a car. Its not safe for kids to be out there alone, especially on bikes.

I wont do it again, honest. Can we keep the puppy? I promise to look after her. Ive always wanted a dog. And its my birthday, Mum…

Oh, its your birthday now, she said, shaking her head. You ought to be punished for not listening!

I clutched the puppy closer, afraid my parents might take her away.

Let the boy keep her, Dad interrupted, slapping me on the back. Hed had a pint or two, so he was in a cheery mood. Hes fourteen today! At his age we got into scrapes too. And she looks well-bred, not some mangy stray. Shed make a grand watchdog. Keep her, son. Ive no quarrel with it.

Well, if your father doesnt mind, I suppose I dont either, Mum smiled at me.

Thanks! Youre the best parents in the world!

I was over the moon. That day, Tess got her nameafter a debate when I finally realized she was a girl, not the scrappy little lad Id thought. She was sweet, gentle, affectionate. We bonded instantly.

I was so wrapped up in Tess, I nearly forgot my new bike even existed. Every spare moment I spent with my fluffy friend.

What could go wrong, now everything seemed perfect? A puppy saved, a happy Jamie with the dog hed secretly dreamed of for years(I never thought Dad would allow it; he was always strict, never much one for dogs).

Mum and Dad were happy to see me happy. Was that the end? Sadly, no

Trouble came, six months later.

It started when Dad, Frank, lost his job and took to the bottle.

He drank heavily, wasting the last of the rainy day cash he and Mum had squirreled away, despite all her pleading and tears. The more she begged, the angrier he became.

Soon, Mum started to frustrate him too. He turned into someone else, or rather, the drink turned him into someone bitter, callousa man who lashed out over trivial things.

He began to hit her, sometimes for the smallest reasonor for no reason at all. No snacks in the fridge, leaky roof, or the price hike of cigarettes or boozeit was always her fault.

It was pointless trying to reason with him.

Me? My fault? Dad would roar at Mum.

But really, yes, it was his fault. No one made him drink. He could have looked for another job, even in town if not in the village. We needed moneyuni for me was around the corner.

But Dad didnt want a city job. Not after the farm where hed worked went underand all the good jobs in the village dried up.

Cathy! Wheres the gin now?! Dad would shout first thing in the morning, hungover and crabbing.

Mum did everything she could to stop him, but it never ended well. One cross word from her and thered be a rowor worse.

I strictly wasnt supposed to interfere. Her warnings were firm; Dads hand was heavy. Best not to push your luck.

At those times, Id go out to Tess, stroke her head, and stare at the house, the shouting echoing out. Tess would lick the tears from my salty cheeks, comforting me as best she could, glancing towards the house, worried, too.

One day, I caught the brunt of his rage myself. Mum had gone shopping, nothing special. I was just playing in the yard with Tess, when Dad called me over, grabbed me by the arm, and cuffed me hard. Again and again

I tried to bear it, but eventually cried out and tried to break free. His grip was like a vise.

Thats when Tessthe gentle Tess, always calm and friendlysuddenly barked at Dad furiously. So fierce was her barking he was taken aback.

I managed to twist free and ran. But Ill kill you both! he yelled, stumbling toward the house. I knew hed come back, maybe with something deadly. What was I to do?

Go. Go and never come back! I whispered to Tess, tears streaking down my face. I unfastened her chain with shaking hands, dragged her to the gate and tried to shove her outside.

She didnt understand. Why was she being cast out? She had done nothing wrong…

Please, Tess, you cant stay, I cried, hugging her tight. Dad will be back soon and

Just then the front door banged open: Dad, brandishing his axe, staggered onto the porch.

Jamie! he roared. Whyd you let that dog loose? Who asked you to do that?

Dad, please dont, I stammered, stepping back, heart pounding.

Honestly, I was so scared, I wanted to bolt with Tess, but… I couldnt leave Mum alone with that brute.

What do you mean, dont? Dad growled, wild-eyed, glaring at me and Tess, whom I shielded with my body.

Dont hurt her, Dad. Just sleep it offyoure not yourself

Oh, is that right? Dont touch the dog? She dared to bark at me after I kept her fed? Ill deal with her, then deal with you! Since when does a son defy his own father? Ill teach you some respect!

He stepped forward, stumbled, nearly fell, but caught himself. He started down the steps, axe in hand.

Bring her here!

Frank, please, no Mum had just come home with the groceries. Her voice trembled. Shes little, youll kill her!

Dont start with me, Cathy. That mutt needs to learn whos master! Jamie, bring her here now!

No more time.

I turned to Tess, looked into her eyes, kissed her cold wet nose and, pushing her through the gate, shouted, Go! Go now! Forgive us, Tess. I didnt want this. Im sorry.

Dad bellowed when he realized what I was doing.

Tess took a last, searching look at me before dashing off into the woods.

It was the only place she could hide.

Never come back, Tess! Hell kill you if you do! I shouted as she disappeared among the trees.

She didnt see what happened next. She could only hope her beloved humansme and Mumwould be all right.

*****

Since that moment

it wasnt just a month or even a year. Seven years have passed. Tess lived every day hoping for a miracle.

She wished and believed that one day, shed find me again.

But with each year her hope dimmed. I, and Mum, had long since left the village.

She returned home six months after fleeing into the woodsher courage lasted that long. But

She approached the gate, gently pushed it open with her paw, and found only the charred remains of the house. No one there.

No me, no Mum, no Dadnot that she missed him.

She returned three or four times, never finding a soul. But even then, she sensed nothing terrible had happened to us. Most likely, wed just moved away. When, or where, shed never know.

She understood wed never come back. For there was nothing to come home to. No house, no family, not even for her…

So she wandered for a year or more, drifting from village to village. Then some old man found her on the roadside, near the very village shed once called home.

A real déjà vu…

Lost, are you? the old fellow chuckled, his beard long, hair snowy. Want to come live with me?

Tess wentwhat other choice did she have?

Despite his fondness for drink (which Id learn of later), he was kind and always fed her well.

Broth, stews, bones aplenty. He spent his pension freely on her.

He took her to work, night after night. He was the cemetery caretaker.

At first Tess was scared, prowling among the gravestones, but she got used to it, as she got used to Mr. Tom.

He turned out to be a normal sort, just terribly lonelylike her.

When he drank, he didnt become a monster like Dad had. No, hed sigh and share his woes with Tess: how his wife had left, his own daughter wanted nothing to do with a failure. When hed finished, Tess would curl at his feet, nuzzle his trousers, and listen, understanding how important it was simply to have someone to listen.

When Mr. Tom fell silent, Tesss thoughts would drift to happier times. She remembered Mum, Catherine, and metried her best to forget Frank ever existed.

Yet fate has a funny way. One night, while making her rounds among the graves, Tess stumbled upon his headstone.

She could hardly believe ithe was long dead, yet the scent clung there: bitterness, alcohol.

Whyre you stopping? Mr. Tom asked, seeing her dawdling by a grave. Whos this, then? Frank Williams… Must be that chap who died in his own house fire.

Tess looked at him, surprised.

Ah, yes. There was such a man in our village. The wife and son moved to town, thank heavens, but he drank himself mad and died in a blaze. Daft way to go. Mind you, folk said he was cruel to his family. So maybe he got what he deserved. Butbetter say nothing about the dead, eh? Off we go. Let the earth rest easy upon him.

She lived with Mr. Tom for almost five years. Then, he too passed away, leaving Tess alone again.

By now, she was no pup. Who would take her in? She decided to stay at the cemetery; at least there she could scrounge for food. Here shedwell, shed wait out her days.

Shed made up her mind. She didnt really want another owner (Mr. Tom had been more a companion in misery than a master).

And then, as the first winter snow fell, something happened that Tess could never have imagined.

She was making her usual rounds when she heard voicesa rare sight on a weekend. Two people: a man and a woman, standing by Franks grave.

Curious, Tess crept closer. Who would visit him now?

I told you, Emily, this was a bad idea, coming here. What am I meant to feel for my father? After everything he did, how can I forgive him?… It was him who broke my mother before her time.

You must, Jamie… Forgive and let God have him. Youll stop having those nightmares. He was your fatherstrict and troubled he may have been. If you dream of him so often, maybe hes not at peace.

How do you know?

My gran always said so. Forgive him and everyone will be freefrom pain. You, your mum, even your dad.

All right… Maybe youre right.

I looked at my fathers grave, brow furrowed, then let my face relax.

I forgive you, Dad. For Mum, for Tess, for me Its a shame I had to turn my best friend away because of you. I hope shes all right now.

All this time, Tess stood behind me, scarcely believing her eyes. Surely, it was me, her boyeven if grown taller, sterner. She recognized me straightaway.

I felt a prickling at my back, turned, and froze.

Jamie? Whats up? Emily asked anxiously. You look like youve seen a ghost.

Not a ghost… a dog, I answered softly.

So? Dogs often turn up in graveyards. Are you scared?

I feel… Ive seen her before… Wait, is it?

I took a few cautious steps towards Tess.

Stopped a few feet away, paused. Each step made me surer.

Tesss tail gave a tentative wag.

She took a few steps, too. And in a heartbeat, we lunged for each other.

Emily barely had time to react as I crouched, arms out, and Tessmy Tess after seven yearsleapt up, paws on my shoulders, licking my face and chin, whining with joy.

Her old dream had come true. At last, shed found the boy shed never forgotten.

*****

I took Tess home, of course. She settled in perfectly with my girlfriend.

Soon, there were three in our little flat. Then fourone day Tess found a stray kitten, and we all agreed to keep it. Then five, when our son, Freddie, was born.

Later, I rebuilt our village house, and every year our whole family would go there together.

Despite all the painmine and Tessswe found happiness at last.

The lesson? Sometimes, even through the harshest winters and cruellest partings, love and loyalty endure. Never give up hope; you might just get the miracle youre waiting for.