The dog had almost given up; she was ready to leave this cruel world behind
Emily had lived for years in a modest cottage on the very edge of a tiny Yorkshire hamlet. When anyone said she was alone, she would laugh and retort, Alone? Not a chancemy family is huge! The village women would nod kindly, but the moment she turned her back they exchanged glances, fingers tapping their temples. Family? they muttered, no husband, no children, only animals Yet it was those four dogs and five cats that Emily counted as kin. She cared little for the neighbours belief that animals existed solely for utilitya cow for milk, a hen for eggs, a dog for guard, a cat for mice. In her cosy cottage the cats lounged on cushions and the dogs slept by the hearth, never out in the yard, which left the locals bewildered.
They whispered their astonishment only among themselves, knowing arguing with the eccentric lady was pointless. Emily shrugged off every rebuke with a grin, Oh, you lotstreets are plenty for you, our home is warm enough for us all.
Five years earlier her world shattered in a single day. Her husband and son were killed when a laden lorry burst onto the country road as they returned from fishing. After the tragedy, Emily realised she could not remain in a house that whispered of lost loved ones. Walking the same lanes, entering familiar shops, meeting sympathetic eyeseach step was unbearable.
Six months later she sold the house, packed up with her cat Misty, and bought a small plot on the outskirts of the hamlet. Summer found her tending a vegetable patch; winter saw her taking a kitchen job at the local care centre. Slowly, new companions arrivedbeggars dogs at the station, stray cats prowling the centres bins. One by one, the lonely, bruised souls gathered into her family. Emilys warm heart healed their old wounds, and they answered with unwavering devotion.
She fed them all, even when money was tight. She often promised herself she would never take in another creature, yet the harsh March turned into a bitter February: icy snow cloaked the pathways, and the wind howled through the night.
That evening, Emily rushed to catch the last coach back to the village. After her shift she stopped in the shop, bought provisions for herself and her animals, and carried a parcel of meals from the care centre. Heavy bags pulled at her arms as she trudged home, her thoughts fixed on the cosy fire waiting inside. Suddenly, just a few steps before the bus stop, she halted and turned.
Under a bench lay a dog, its eyes dull and glassy, its fur dusted with snow. It had been there for hours. Passersby shuffled past, scarves wrapped tight, none stopping. Did no one see? the thought screamed inside her.
Emilys chest tightened. Forgetting the coach and her own vows, she dropped the bags, sprinted forward, and knelt beside the animal. Thank heavens youre still breathing, she whispered, relief flooding her voice. Come on, love, get up.
The dog barely moved, yet it did not resist as Emily gently lifted it from under the bench. It seemed already resigned to leave this harsh world
She could not recall how she managed to lug two heavy sacks to the bus station while cradling the shivering dog. Inside the waiting room she settled in a far corner, rubbing the thin creatures chilled limbs into her palms.
Come on, darling, well pull through. We still have a way home, she murmured. Youll be the fifth dog for a proper tally.
From her bag she produced a meat patty and offered it to the frozen guest. At first the animal turned away, but after a moments warmth it seemed to reconsider: its nose twitched, eyes brightened, and it took the food.
An hour later Emily stood on the roadside with the dog shed named Molly, waving her arm to halt a passing car after the coach had long departed. She fashioned a makeshift collar from her belt, though it was hardly neededthe dog trotted beside her, head tucked against her leg. Minutes later a van pulled over.
Thank you ever so much! the driver called. Dont worryIll let her sit on my lap; she wont dirty the seats.
Please do, Emily replied, smiling. Shes not a little pup, after all.
Molly trembled, nestling against Emily, and together they perched on the drivers knees. Much warmer, Emily laughed softly.
The driver cranked up the heater. The vehicle moved in companionable silence; Emily watched the snowflakes dance under the headlights, clutching her new charge, while the driver stole occasional glances at her calm, weatherworn face, realizing she was escorting a rescued dog home.
At the cottage the driver helped unload the bags. The drift piled high against the gate, forcing the man to shove it aside with his shoulder. The rusted hinges gave way, and the gate toppled. No matter, Emily sighed. Its about time it was fixed.
A chorus of barks and mews erupted from the house, and Emily hurried to the door, letting her varied brood spill into the yard. So, youve been waiting for me? she chuckled, introducing Molly, who peered shyly from behind her legs.
The dogs wagged their tails, nosing the bags the driver still held. What are we doing out here in the cold? Emily mused. Come inside, if a big family doesnt scare you. Tea, perhaps?
Its late, thank you, the driver replied. Feed yours; theyll be glad enough.
The next afternoon, a knock sounded at the gate. Emily slipped on her coat and opened it to find the driver, now fixing new hinges, tools in hand. Good afternoon! he said, grinning. Im Victor, the fellow who broke the gate. Thought Id come by and mend it properly. And you are?
Emily, she answered, smiling.
Her tailwagging companions swarmed around him, sniffing and circling. Victor crouched to pat them. Emily, come inside, dont freeze. Ill be done soon, and we can share a cup of tea. Theres even a slice of cake in the boot, and a few treats for your big family.
