One night during a shift I overheard a colleagues phone rant. He was sounding fed up, repeating:
Take the mutt wherever you like, do what you want with him, Ive had enough!
My curiosity got the better of me, so I asked what the fuss was about. He told me he was giving away a German Shepherd.
Why? I asked.
Hes a nightmare, he shrugged. He howls at night, breaks free from his chain, sheds like a woolshop, makes a mess in the garden and never guards the house.
I felt a pang of pity for the poor dog. I rang my father, wondering if he needed a guard dog for his little plot of land out in Surrey. After a few days he called back and said he was happy to take it.
The Dday arrived. We piled into the family car, taking a roll of gauze just in case we needed to tie his mouth shutafter all, we were heading for a wild beast.
When we got to the address, the colleague was waiting with the dog: a gaunt, ragged thing with matted fur, a fresh bloodstained wound on his head and a torn paw pad. His eyes were so mournful they seemed ready to burst into tears.
He hopped into the back seat without a growl, calm as a Sunday morning. My sisters husband, Tom, settled next to him, and the pooch lay quietly for the whole drive.
Back at home we decided the first order of business was a new collar, a sturdy leash, and a proper bath. Mum and my sister, Elaine, peeked from the kitchen doorway, halfexpecting a snarling monster.
Mum was simmering a pot of beef and barley porridge. While it was still warm she offered the dog a slice of crusty bread. Watching him lunge at that tiny piece was almost more painful than seeing his wounds.
A healthy German Shepherd of the breed should tip the scales at about 35kg; this one was barely 20kg. The moment we set a bowl down, he devoured the food in a flash and then flopped onto his favorite spot on the rug.
A short while later Mum reached for the bowl to give it a quick rinse, holding it behind her back. Suddenly she felt something tug gently at it. It was Caesaryes, that was his namewho lifted the bowl with his teeth, carried it to his corner and plonked it down like hed claimed ownership: Thats mine, Ill look after it.
We hadnt planned on housing a fiveyearold male dog in a flat; we thought Mum would object. But her heart melted, and none of us could bring ourselves to give away such a loyal creature.
After a thorough wash and a good brushout, Caesar looked like a brandnew dog. The following day I took him to the local vet. They explained how to treat his wounds, I bought the prescribed medication, and within a couple of weeks hed had all his shots. I didnt blame the previous ownersthey might have simply lost him on the street.
When Caesar was fully on the mend we enrolled him in obedience classes. In the summer the parents would take him down to their cottage in the Cotswolds, where he turned into a real watchdog: no stranger dared approach the fence. And who could argue with a 40kg bundle of muscle?
Eight years have passed since then. Caesar has survived two operationsfirst a hernia repair, then complications afterwards. His joints ache, arthritis has set in, but we keep him comfortable, pampered, and loved. Hes now an old chap. Dad affectionately calls him sonny, Mum spoils him like a child.
I cant fathom how anyone could have given up such a dog. He embodies boundless devotion and gentleness. Yes, caring for an animal takes effort, but none of us can picture the house without him. When Dads away or someones on holiday, Caesar sulks, refuses food, and just waits.
A few years after Caesar arrived, our longstanding family cat passed away after eighteen years with us. Shortly after, a stray kitten was abandoned in our block of flats. Neighbours fed it, but when the November chill set in I realised I couldnt let the little furball freeze. Now the cheeky, audacious cat called Eve lives with us, ruling the roost.
People, be kinder to animals. They feel everythingpain, love, longing. Just choose love.
