I leaned down towards the old collie. She looked at me with a resigned glance, then turned her head away. Shed long since lost hope. She knew too much about people.
On the street, folks called them simply the mongrel pack. But I always corrected them: Theyre not a gang. Just five dogs who stick together to survive.
The collie was their leader you could tell shed once belonged to a home. Most likely, her previous owners had abandoned her, moving away without so much as a backward glance. She kept the others close, guarded them, guided them, held this little street family together.
Every day, I brought them food. In the morning on the way to work, in the evening on my return. Each time I appeared, five tails some curled, some hanging low began dancing, wagging like propellers. Their eyes shone with so much joy it made my heart ache. They jumped up, pushed cold noses into my hands, licked my fingers. Those looks held everything: gratitude, trust, hope.
What hope does a dog have, left to die alone on the street? Yet, somehow, they did hope. They believed. They loved. I never came to them empty-handed. They waited for me. And they always endured.
But that morning, only four bounded up to my feet. They whined, glancing anxiously toward the far end of the lane. Right away, I sensed trouble.
With a heavy sigh, I rang work and explained Id be late.
At the very edge of the quiet suburb, under some hedges, I found the old collie. A car had hit her. Drivers often sped through the bend there, blind to anything in the way. This time, luck had run out.
The four little dogs whimpered pitifully, looking into my eyes I was the only human they trusted.
I bent over the collie. Tears ran from her eyes. She gazed at me, defeated, then looked away. Shed given up hoping long ago; she knew people all too well. Only one thought troubled her: what would become of the four she protected?
How bad is the pain? I asked softly, pulling out my phone again.
After arranging to take the day off, I brought my car around and carefully lifted her into the back seat. Her four friends hopped around, brushing against my hands, seeming to say thank you.
At the vets, the doctor examined her and sighed.
It would be kinder to put her to sleep. Too many fractures. She has little chance, and the treatment will cost several hundred pounds
But is there a chance? I interrupted.
Theres always a chance, the vet replied. But shell suffer. Is it worth it?
It is, I said firmly. Its worth it to me, and so it is to her. Besides, the other four are waiting. How could I look them in the eye?
The doctor considered me quietly, then nodded.
Alright. Lets start.
A week later, I brought the collie home. All that while, the other four stayed camped outside my house. Their cries when they saw us were so joyful, even the injured collie perked up and tried to lick her friends.
I carried her inside, then came out and gave a proper speech. I told them that a home meant responsibility, and they could no longer behave as they did on the street.
The dogs sat patiently and listened. I paused, looked at them with a smile and said, Well, what are you waiting for? Come in.
And I opened the gate.
The collie recovered surprisingly fast. She was always trying to get up to join her friends, and I made sure she didnt overdo it. When her bones had healed and she could walk without faltering, I gave her a special collar a gold one with a tiny bell.
Nowadays, I leave for work a bit earlier. I walk down the long, quiet street with five dogs on leads: four little, silly ones with ring-shaped tails, and the proud old collie with her golden collar and bell.
You should see how they look around. Now they have a home, and she has a collar. The collie walks with her head held high.
You cant understand if youve never had a collar with a bell. But every dog knows: thats how one walks who is respected.
So we go myself, who couldnt just walk by, and five dogs who never forgot how to hope and love, even after enduring human betrayal.
We walk and were happy. What for, I cant say. Maybe for each other. Maybe for a sunny day. Maybe for the simple fact that theres still love in the world.
And when you look in their eyes, you realise: as long as eyes like these exist, not all is lost.
