Granddad, look! Emily pressed her nose to the window. A dog!
A scruffy, black mongrel hovered just outside the garden gate. The poor thing looked filthy, ribs showing through her fur.
That stray mutt again, grumbled George Anderson, tugging on his wellies. Shes been hanging about for three days now. Go on, off with you!
He shook his stick in the air. The dog jumped back but didnt flee. She just sat down five yards away and watched. Simply stared.
Granddad, dont chase her away! Emily grabbed his sleeve. She must be so hungry and cold!
Ive got enough on my plate already! the old man huffed. Shell only bring fleas and all sorts of trouble. Off you go!
The dog tucked her tail, edged further away, but as soon as George disappeared inside, she padded back
Emily had been living with her grandfather for six months now, ever since her parents passed away in a car crash. George had taken his granddaughter in, even though hed never really understood children and preferred his peace and quiet.
Now he had a little girl who cried in the night and always asked, Granddad, when will Mum and Dad be back?
How could he tell her never? He could only grumble and turn away. It was hard for both of them, but there was no other way.
After lunch, while her granddad dozed by the telly, Emily slipped outside. In her hands was a bowl with leftover soup.
Come here, Molly, the girl whispered. Ive named you Molly. Isnt that a lovely name?
The dog slunk closer, licked the bowl clean, and then lay down with her head on her paws. Her eyes shonegrateful, loyal.
Youre a good girl, Emily whispered as she stroked her. Such a good girl.
From that day, Molly never strayed far from the house. She watched at the gate, saw Emily off to school and welcomed her home. And whenever George Anderson stepped outside, hed shout for the whole street to hear:
You again! How longs this going to last?!
But Molly already knew: this old man barked, but he didnt bite.
Their neighbour, Arthur Evans, would often see the goings-on from over the fence. One day he said,
You know, George, you oughtnt chase that dog away.
Oh, whys that? I need a dog like I need toothache!
Arthur nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps, he began, God sent her to you for a reason?
George just snorted.
A week passed. Molly stayed by the gatewhatever the weather, however biting the cold.
Emily continued to sneak food to her and George pretended not to notice.
Granddad, could Molly come inside the porch? Emily pleaded at dinner. Its warmer there.
No, absolutely not! George banged his fist on the table. Animals do not belong in the house!
But she
No buts! Thats enough out of you!
Emily sulked in silence, and that night, George struggled to fall asleep. In the morning, he glanced out the window.
Molly was curled up on the snow outside. Shell not last much longer out there, he thought. Guilt settled in his chest.
That Saturday, Emily went down to the pond to skate. Molly, as always, trailed behind. The girl laughed, spinning across the ice, while the dog watched from the bank.
Watch me, Granddad! she shouted, and skated right to the middle.
The ice hummed, then cracked. Emily fell through.
The water was black, freezingshe was dragged under the ice. She thrashed and yelled, but only the splashes could be heard.
Molly froze for a second, then sprinted towards the house.
George was chopping wood in the yard when he heard frantic barking. He turnedthere was the dog, racing about, whining, tugging at his trouser leg, pulling him toward the gate.
Whats got into you? he muttered.
But Molly wouldnt give upshe howled, darted, grabbed at his clothes again. Panic in her eyes. Suddenly, George understood.
Emily! he yelled and dashed after Molly.
Molly raced ahead, glancing back to check he followed, then ran on toward the pond.
George saw a dark spot, then heard faint splashes.
Hold on! he cried, grabbing a long pole. Hold on, Emily!
He crawled over the cracking ice, stretching the pole. Grabbed her coat, pulled her to the bank. All the while, Molly barked encouragement at their side.
When they pulled Emily out, she was blue with cold. George rubbed her with snow, breathed on her face, prayed every prayer he knew.
Granddad? Emily finally whispered. Wheres Molly?
The dog sat nearby, shiveringwhether from fear or the cold, nobody could tell.
Shes here, George said hoarsely. Shes right here.
Something changed after that. George didnt shout at Molly anymore. But he still wouldnt let her inside.
Granddad, please? Emily would beg. She saved my life!
She did, she did. But theres no room for her.
But why?
Because thats the way Ive always done things! George thundered.
He was cross with himself. Why, he didnt know. He kept telling himself it was about keeping order. But it ate away at him.
Arthur would come for tea, and theyd sit in the kitchen with a packet of ginger biscuits.
I heard what happened, the neighbour would say quietly.
I heard, George would mutter.
Shes a clever dog. A good one.
Maybe.
Shes worth looking after.
George shrugged. I suppose were doing that. Not chasing her off, at least.
Not any more, you mean. But where does she sleep in this cold?
Outsides where a dog belongs, isnt it?
Arthur shook his head. Strange man, you are, George. Your granddaughters alive thanks to her, and you Well, its a bit ungrateful.
I dont owe that mutt anything! George snapped. Were feeding her, not hitting herthats enough!
Owe her or not, George, what about kindness?
Kindness is for people, not mongrels!
Arthur went quiet, knowing it was useless to argue. But he kept watching, reproachful.
February turned truly bitter. The wind blasted non-stop, as if winter wanted to show who was master.
George barely managed to clear the walkwaysby morning, the snow would pile up again.
And Molly never left the gate. She grew thin as a rake. Her coat was tangled, her eyes dull. But she stood guard.
Granddad, Emily tugged at his sleeve, look at her. She can hardly stand.
She chose to stay out there, George shrugged. Nobody forced her.
But she
Thats enough! he shouted. Must you go on and on about that dog? Ive had it up to here!
Emily turned away, wounded. Later, as her granddad read his paper, she said softly,
Molly wasnt around today.
So? George grumbled, not looking up.
Not all day. Maybe shes ill?
Maybe shes finally found her way. Good riddance.
Granddad! How can you say that?
What am I supposed to say? He laid down the paper and looked at Emily. She isnt ours! Cant you see that? We owe her nothing!
We do, Emily murmured. She saved my life. And we cant even give her a warm spot.
Theres no space! George snapped, banging the table. This house isnt a zoo!
Emily fled the room in tears, leaving George feeling empty. For the first time, he had no heart for the paper.
That night, a fierce blizzard rattled the house. The wind howled in the chimney, snow whipped the windows. George tossed and turned in bed, sleepless.
Proper dog weather, he thought. Then cursed himself: Whats it to me anyway? Not my concern! But it was. And he knew it.
By morning, the wind had stopped. George got up, made tea, and peered outside. The garden was buried to the sills. No paths, just snow everywhere. A dark shape by the gate caught his eye.
Some rubbish, blown by the wind, he thought. But his heart dropped.
He threw on his coat, pushed his feet into his boots, and trudged out. The snow rose above his knees. He reached the gate and stopped cold.
There in the drift lay Molly. Motionless. Only her ears and the tip of her tail stuck out from the snow.
That’s it, shes gone, thought George. And suddenly, something inside him gave way.
He brushed the snow off. The dog was barely alivebreathing weakly, wheezing, eyes closed.
Oh, you silly thing, the old man whispered. Why didnt you just go somewhere else?
Molly shuddered at his voice, tried to lift her head, but she hadnt the strength.
George stared a long while. Oh, hang it, he muttered and gently lifted her into his arms.
She was light as a featherjust skin, bone, and matted fur. But she was still warm. Still alive.
Hold on, George murmured as he hauled her inside. Dont you give up.
He carried Molly into the porch, then straight into the kitchen, laying her on an old blanket by the Aga.
Granddad? Emily appeared in her pajamas at the door. Whats happened?
Oh, well, she was freezing out there. Thought Id let her warm up.
Emily ran over.
Shes alive? Please, Granddad, is she alive?
She is, she is. Get her a bowl of warm milk, go on now.
Emily hurried to the stove.
Meanwhile, George crouched beside the dog, stroking her head. What kind of man am I? he wondered. Nearly left her to die. And she still trusts me. The silly thing.
Molly opened her eyes just a crack. She gazed at himthankful. Georges throat tightened.
Milks ready! Emily placed the bowl by Mollys nose.
Shakily, Molly raised her head and lapped. Again and again. Grandfather and granddaughter sat beside her, watching every mouthful with delight, as if witnessing a miracle.
By noon, Molly was sitting up. By evening, she managed to stagger around the kitchen on trembling legs. George kept muttering,
This is just for now! You hear me? Once youre strong, it’s back outside for you!
But Emily only smiled. She saw how he snuck her the best bits of beef, tucked her in warmly, stroked her when he thought no one was watching.
Shell stay, Emily knew. He wont put her out again.
The next morning, George rose early. Molly was lying on the rug by the Aga, watching him, alert.
So. Youre back with us, eh? he said, pulling up his trousers. Good.
Molly wagged her tail, gently, as if unsure she was allowed.
After breakfast, George put on his coat, walked outside, and eyed the old kennel near the shed. Nobody had lived there for ten years at least.
Emily! he called. Come here a moment!
Emily dashed out, Molly close behind, sticking to her side, though no longer wary of George.
See there, he nodded at the kennel. Roofs full of holes, walls are rotten. Needs fixing.
Why, Granddad? Emily asked, puzzled.
Why do you think? he grumbled. No use leaving it empty.
He fetched boards, a hammer, a bag of nails from the shed. Started patching the roof, swearing at every crooked nail and warped plank.
Molly sat nearby, studying himyou could tell she knew it was for her.
By lunchtime, the kennel gleamed with a new roof. George found an old blanket to lay inside. He set out water and food bowls.
There, he said, wiping his brow. All done.
Granddad, Emily whispered, is it for Molly?
Who else? he grunted. Shes not coming inside, but she ought to live decentlywell, as decently as a dog should.
Emily flung her arms round him.
Thank you, Granddad! Thank you!
Thats enough, thats enough, he said, embarrassed. And rememberits only for a while, till we find her a proper home.
But he well knew hed never look. And Molly belonged to nobody but them now.
Just then, Arthur strolled over. He looked at the smart new kennel, the satisfied faces, the dog curled nearby, and gave a sly smile.
Told you so, GeorgeGod did send her your way!
Oh, give it a rest with your God business, George sighed. I only felt sorry for her, thats all.
Of course you did, Arthur nodded. Big heartyou just bury it deep.
George wanted to protest, but thought better of it. He watched Molly sniff her new home, Emily stroking her gently. And he understoodthey were a family now. Not quite complete, perhaps a little odd, but a family just the same.
Well then, Molly, he said softly. This is your home too now.
The dog looked into his eyes, long and trustingly, and curled up by her kennel, right where she could see the door. Right where her people lived.
