Julia sat beside the entrance to the block of flats. All the neighbours knew that the family from number 22 had gone away for a long time, and now there was a dog in the courtyard, determined to wait for themhowever long it might take.
It all took place in the early nineties, in a small provincial town in Englanda place where gossip travelled from street to street, and everyone seemed to know the business of their neighbours. One fresh morning in June, just as sunlight crept over the cobblestones, a screech of brakes sounded in front of the bookshop. The commotion brought the shop assistants running outside, but the street lay almost empty, save for a lone creature near the kerb.
There, slumped awkwardly on the pavement, was a scruffy dog. She whimpered in distress, struggling to rise, but her hind legs dragged uselessly behind her.
Of all the young women, Vera Carlton was the bravest and knelt by the dog first. She spoke softly, cautiously stroking her muzzle and back, trying to piece together what had happened.
What is it, Vera?
Natasha Bennett and the manager, Mrs. Helen Thornton, lingered nearby, uncertain whether they dared approach for fear of finding something too gruesome. There was no blood, just the unnatural limpness of her battered limbsa sign of deep trouble.
Girls, lets move her into the storeroom, Vera suggested. She might recover. We cant just leave her out here.
Natasha glanced at Mrs. Thornton, who hesitated, then nodded.
Alright, lets find something to put her on Will you manage, Vera?
Ill do it, Vera replied, adjusting her grip under the poor animal.
The dog was a mixed breed with some Collie in her face, bony and unwashed, without so much as a collaralmost certainly a stray.
She lay in the storeroom all afternoon, and by evening, after resting off her shock, she managed a little water and the food theyd brought herthough she stayed lying down. She still couldnt move herself about.
The next day, Vera persuaded her father to fetch her during lunchtime and take the dog to the local veta tiny surgery with little equipment and no X-ray, tucked behind the post office.
Perhaps shell heal with time, the vet said after a cursory exam. Shes young and hardy. If she gets decent care, shell live. Walking, though very unlikely.
On the way home, they were silent. Vera sat behind, cradling the injured creature. Her father watched them in the rear-view mirror and sighed. That evening at supper, he said:
Vera, dont get too attached. Dont let her depend on you. Remember, were moving in the autumn.
I remember, Dad, she replied quietly.
They named the dog Julia. She remained in the bookshop storeroom. For the first fortnight, she hardly rose at all; then she started creeping to the courtyard, dragging her limp hindquarters after her.
What can we do for her? the assistants wondered. Shed struggle out on the streets, but nobodys brave enough to take her home Good thing Mrs. Thornton allows her to stay here.
Julia herself seemed to accept her misfortune without fuss. She pottered about the yard, sniffing at everything and shuffling back to her spot.
Each weekend, one of the shop girls would bring Julia home for a visit, except Vera, who would soon move with her family to the North-East for her fathers joba two-year transfer. She knew her father was right: getting attached only made things harder.
But it was too late for that. Vera had felt a bond from the moment Julia met her gaze on the road. Julia watched her in return, with warm and devoted eyes.
Then one weekend, Vera had to bring Julia home herselfno one else was free.
Just this once! she insisted to her father. Everyones off on outings or having barbecues
We were supposed to go to the cottage, too, came her mothers voice from the kitchen.
Julia scampered there at once, as though understanding that winning over Mum was vital. Her dragging legs inspired pity, and then Julia fixed Mum with a mournful, pleading lookso soon Mum was fussing over her:
Poor darling Are you hungry? Vera, do you starve her at the shop? Never mind, well take you to the cottage. Dads planning a barbecue. Youll love it
Vera exchanged knowing glances with her father, but he simply shook his head.
At the cottage, Julia was in heavenbarbecue scraps, and even the neighbours dog, Ben, who treated her as an old friend. The next day, back in the flat, Julia curled by Veras bed as if shed always belonged there.
So, when Vera took Julia back to the shop on Monday, it unsettled the dog terribly. She fretted all day in the storeroom, and when let out into the courtyard at noon, she vanished.
The assistants called for her, searched, but by closing time Julia had not returned.
Vera was frantic. She walked the streets, calling with every step:
Julia! Julia, where are you? Please, come home
It workedJulia was waiting right by Veras block of flats, barely alive but filled with joy to see her. She squealed, licked Veras hands, wriggled, tail twitching with delight.
Returning her to the shop made no sense. Julia knew the way home now, and Vera couldnt bring herself to lock her away again.
And what now? her father asked, eyeing the blissful dog at Veras feet.
I mean to nurse her, Dad. I just hope youll help me.
Soon, Veras holidays began, and then she planned to leave her job. With over two months left before moving, she devoted herself entirely to Julia.
Her father made several trips to the nearest city, where there was a modern animal hospital. The doctors made no promises but agreed to operatewhich meant there was a chance.
Vera and Julia moved to the cottage. Vera was her constant carer: medicine, massages, coaxing her legs to work. The dog seemed to learn walking from scratch.
At first, progress was slow. But Veras parents, who visited often, began to notice hopeful improvements. Julias legs no longer dragged lifelessly, even if they wobbled.
Within four weeks, Julia was chasing Ben with a comical, rolling gait; by six, she was left with only a slight limp.
Vera was overjoyed, but the thought of parting weighed on her heart. Time was running out.
Bens owner, Mrs. Green, made a suggestion:
Leave her with me. Shell be happier with Ben, the place is familiar, and she wont pine so badly
On the day she left, Vera brought Julia to Mrs. Greens house to visit Ben. That evening, the family boarded the train for London, then after a flight they would be in Newcastleso far from home.
After settling in, Vera called Mrs. Green, dreading the worst.
That very night, Julia sensed something was wrong. By morning, Mrs. Green found only Ben in the garden. She knew there was no point searching, so drove to Veras old flat.
There was Juliaoutside the front door, wistful. She recognised Mrs. Green, but with a warning growl made clear she would not leave. The commotion drew neighbours; everyone knew number 22s family had gone. Julia had settled in to wait.
As long as she must.
Now Vera kept in touch with another neighbour, Mrs. Olga Nelson from number 23. She gave Vera regular updates:
Your Julias the sentry of our entrance! She wont let anyone close. Ive met Mrs. Green a few timestried tempting Julia with sausages, but no luck!
Vera tried sending Mrs. Nelson money for food, but the neighbour wouldnt hear of it.
Dont be silly, Veraeveryone in the building gives her something. No need for money
Winter arrived, and the neighbours, especially Mrs. Nelson, let Julia in to warm up. Julia would climb to the third floor, stretch out on the mat in front of number 22, and after a spell, return outsidefaithful as ever.
Vera spoke with the bookshop assistants, who sometimes visited to check on Julia. Julia recognised them, received their gifts sweetly, but steadfastly refused to leave her vigil.
Vera was torn apart by worry; she longed to abandon everything and return, but pressing work and financial troubles kept her in the North-East. Times were hard; people survived however they could.
She returned only in June. There was Julia by the entrance, ears pricked, still but quivering as she saw Vera and dared to hope.
What followed was a rush of hugs, tears and disbelief. It felt as if Veras heart would burst for joyand Julias too.
The summer passed in the blink of an eye. When August ended, her parents arrivedher father was off for a months holiday but faced another year-long assignment come September. Vera begged her parents to take Julia along. Her mother looked questioningly at her husband, who brooded, sighed heavily and kept silent. The journey would be long and hardeven for a grown man, let alone a dog unfamiliar with trains and the bustle of cities.
A tension filled the air. Julia sensed the familys mood, stuck close to Vera, nervous and watchful. Then one morning, quite suddenly, Veras father told her to pack with the dog:
Come on. Were going to sort her papers. Without vaccinations, they wont let her on the train, nor on the plane.
A deal with the local vet and a few jars of homemade jam got Julia a pet passport and all necessary jabsthere was no time for official channels.
That evening, Veras father made Julia a muzzle himselfback then, dog kit wasnt easy to find. Julia had never worn anything like it before, but sat patiently, seeming to understand the importance of the occasion and glowing with proud happiness.
Youre coming with us, Julia, her father said as he stitched the last seam. Just dont let me down
Julia never did. The family never regretted taking her. First the journey by train, then bustling through airports. Julia travelled with them on military planes to the far reaches of Newcastle, even visiting the Orkneys and Hebrides. A year later, they returned home.
Julia lived with the family for thirteen wonderful, loving yearsalways loyal, always by Veras side, wherever life led her.
