As Mum and I walked back from the market, I spotted it first.
It wasnt curled beneath the bench like stray dogs usually dono, this one sat upright on the bus stop seat, as calm and deliberate as a person. Snowlight glinted in its squinting eyes as it scanned the road, occasionally lifting its head to watch passersby, searching for someone. No barking, no beggingjust waiting. It was strange. Almost human.
*”Mum, look!”* I tugged her coat sleeve. *”A puppy!”*
It was scrawny, big-eared, slightly cross-eyed, all awkward limbs like a gangly teenager. But it was the eyes that held metired, but not dim. Something deep. The kind you feel, not describe.
Mum gave it one glance and sighed.
*”Dont touch it. Probably full of fleas. No jabs, either. Cant take it on the bus. Leave ititll wander off.”*
But the bus came, then another, and it was still there. Shifting paws, glancing around, never leaving. Like it was choosing. Waiting. And when its gaze landed on me*”You came for me, didnt you?”*
*”Mum, please”* My voice cracked, childish, desperate. *”Itll freeze.”*
She bit her lip. Looked at the grey sky, then back at the pup. Finally, a slow exhale.
*”If no one claims it by tonight, well take it. But its your responsibility. If your dad kicks off, thats on you.”*
I nodded like a life depended on it. Ran back, unwrapped my scarf, and bundled it up. No strugglejust a soft sigh, like a child nestling into warmth.
At home, it ate fast. Not hungrystarving. Every crumb mattered. Then it curled on an old coat and slept. As if, finally, it could rest.
*”Whatll we call our hero?”* Mum asked, putting the empty bowl away.
I thought. Then it hit me.
*”Its April 12.”*
*”And?”*
*”Gagarin,”* I said.
Mum raised a brow. *”After space?”*
*”After being first. Hes my first. A real hero.”*
She smiled. The name stuck.
It wasnt easy. The cat hissed and hid. Gran complained about *”dog smell.”* Dad, away on business, ranted over the phone about allergies and madness. I listened. Nodded. Didnt back down.
Gagarin was perfect. Rarely barked. Never chewed shoes. Just stayed. Quiet. Close. Like knowing we were there was enough.
He grew. Ears too big, legs too longawkward, but sweet. Hed wait by the door when I came home, not jumping, just watching. *”How was your day?”* in those eyes.
He knew my moods. When I was ill, he stayed pressed to my side. When I cried, he brought his ball*”Dont be sad, play.”* If I argued with someone, hed nudge his head into my lap. Just there.
That winter was bitter. Deep snow, ice thick on the river behind schooleveryone skated. Kids, adults. Gagarin and I went almost daily. Id throw snowballs; hed chase, skidding on ice. Perfect.
Then, one day, I went alone. Mum was late. Friend sick. Snow fell heavy, silence wrapping the world. Just my boots crunching.
Gagarin darted ahead, weaving through bushes. I neared the river. Ice smooth, beautifulcracked in places, but solid.
One step. Another. Then
A snap.
Everything gave way. Water swallowed me. Cold punched my chest. Panic. Hands slipped, nothing to grip. Ice breaking. Screaming inside. No escape.
Thena yank.
My coat dragging. I twisted. Gagarin.
Teeth clenched in my sleeve, pulling with everything. He slipped, scrambled, but didnt let go. Tugging. Barking. Not giving up.
Dont remember how we got out. Just bloodied elbows, shaking, him draped over me, holding tight. Like he feared losing me again.
Ambulance. Mum. Doctors. Mefrostbite. Himcuts, exhaustion, infection.
They saved us.
A week later, I came home. Gagarin met me at the door. Pressed his nose to my stomachthen lay beside me. No words needed. Understood.
Since then, hes not just a dog. Hes my universe. My Gagarin.
A year passed. We moved. New flat, new doora sign now: *”Warning: Hero lives here.”*
He wont let me near the river. Not summer, not winter. Blocks my path. Stares. Not angry. Just certain.
Sometimes he sits on the balcony, watching the sky. Long, quiet. Like hes searching.
*”Counting stars again, Gagarin?”* I tease.
No answer. Just his head resting against mine.
And its warm.
So warm.
Always.
If youve got a Gagarin of your owntell us. And stay tuned. More soul-stirring tales ahead.
