— Mum, what have you done? The daughter was nearly shouting into the phone. — What on earth do you mean, a dog from a shelter?! And an old, sick one at that! Are you out of your mind? Why couldn’t you take up dancing instead?
Nona stood by the window, watching as white mist slowly descended upon the city. Snowflakes danced in the air, settling on the rooftops and branches, breaking under the feet of late passersby. Recently, standing by the window had become a habit.
Once, she would wait for her husband to return from work, late and tired, his voice hoarse. Soft light glowed in the kitchen, dinner sat on the table, and they chatted over cups of tea. But eventually, conversation topics ran out, and he started coming home even later. His gaze turned evasive, and he’d reply to her questions with curt phrases. Then one day…
“Nona, there’s something I need to tell you… I’ve met someone else. We love each other, and I’m filing for divorce.”
“What? Divorce… and me, Alex, what will happen to me?” Nona felt a sudden, sharp pain beneath her shoulder blade.
“Nona, we’re adults. The children have grown, they’ve got their own lives. We’ve spent nearly thirty years together. But we’re still young. Look at us, we’re both just past fifty. I want something new, something fresh!”
“So I’m just old and spent, used-up memories,” whispered the bewildered woman.
“You’re not old… But there, with her… I feel thirty again. I’m sorry, but I want to be happy,” her husband pecked her on the top of her head and left for the bathroom.
He was washing away the old marriage, humming cheerful tunes, while a crushing sense of despair weighed on Nona’s shoulders.
Betrayal. What could be worse?
Nona lost track of time – the divorce happened, and Alex moved in with his new partner. Her days turned grey.
She had been living for her children and her husband. Their problems were hers, their illnesses her own, their joys and successes her triumphs. But now?
Nona spent hours by the window, sometimes scrutinising herself in a small hand mirror left by her grandmother. In it, she saw her sad eyes, a tear disappearing into emerging wrinkles, a grey hair at her temple.
She was wary of the larger mirrors.
“Mum, you need to find something to do,” her daughter’s rushed voice hinted that she had somewhere to be.
“What, sweetie?” Nona’s dull voice faded away through the phone lines.
“Well, I don’t know. Books, maybe dance classes for the over…’s, exhibitions.”
“Yes, the over… I’m already over…” Nona couldn’t pull herself together.
“Oh, Mum, sorry, I don’t have time right now.”
Remarkably, her son, Alan, was much more understanding of his mother’s sorrow: “Mum, I’m really sorry about everything that’s happened. Listen, we’re planning to come over, maybe for New Year’s. You’ll meet Erica, and it’ll cheer you up.”
Nona adored her children, though she marveled at how different they were…
*****
One evening, while browsing social media, Nona came across an advertisement:
“Open Day at the Dog Shelter. Come visit, bring children, friends, and family. Our pets would love to meet every new visitor! We’re waiting for you at…”
Further, it mentioned how anyone wanting to help the shelter could refer to a list of essentials.
Nona read it once, then again.
“Blankets, throws, old bed linens, towels. I need to clear out all of that stuff. I think I have some things to donate,” mused Nona in the dead of night.
She stood by the window, running through a mental list of necessary items she could buy with her modest income.
Ten days later, she was standing in front of the shelter’s gates. Nona came laden with gifts. The taxi driver helped her unload the endless heavy bags filled with blankets and fabric. He retrieved a rolled-up battered rug and a bundle of mats.
Shelter volunteers assisted the visitors in bringing in bundles of linens, sacks of food, bags of gifts for the dogs.
Later, the visitors were divided into small groups by volunteers and were guided around the enclosures, listening to the life stories of each lonely inhabitant of the melancholic cages.
Nona returned home exhausted, her feet barely feeling the floor.
“Right, shower, dinner, sofa. I’ll think about it all later,” she told herself.
But “later” never came. Images swirled in her mind — the people, the cages, the dogs.
And their eyes…
Nona had seen such eyes before in her small hand mirror. Eyes filled with sadness and a disbelief in happiness.
What struck her most was one particular dog, old, grey. The dog seemed very sad, lying quietly in the corner, unresponsive to anyone.
“That’s Lady. A Japanese Chin. Her owner left her in her twilight years. Lady’s also old now — twelve years here already. They say with good care they can reach fifteen. But Lady’s old, sick, and sad; sadly, such dogs rarely get adopted,” the volunteer sighed, leading the group further.
Nona lingered by Lady’s side. She remained unresponsive, lying on her old blanket, like a faded toy.
Throughout the week at work, Nona kept thinking about the sad little dog. She felt a renewed energy within her, showing a remarkable diligence in her tasks.
“After all, Lady’s like a reflection of me. I may not be as old, but I am alone. My children have moved away; my husband stepped over me like I was a rag on the street. But I’m no rag! I’m not a rag!”
Nona stepped out of her office and dialed the shelter’s number.
“Hello! I was at your open day. You told me a lot about Lady, the old dog. Remember?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, of course, I remember. You were the only one who paused by her enclosure.”
“Please, can I visit her?”
“Lady? Incredible! Of course, come over! Maybe this weekend?” the volunteer suggested a suitable time.
That evening, Nona stood by the window again. But this time, she wasn’t reminiscing about her past life. Instead, she watched a man walking a large dog in the courtyard.
The dog was running around, chasing a ball, bringing it back to his owner, who’d affectionately pat his head.
The weekend was approaching.
“Hello, Lady!” Nona knelt beside the dog. But Lady didn’t stir.
Nona sat on the floor. She wore old jeans she’d brought along to change into at the shelter.
Without approaching Lady directly, Nona began to talk…
She spoke of herself, her children, about being alone in a three-bedroom flat she’d no one to share with anymore.
An hour passed. Nona moved slightly closer to the blanket where Lady lay. She gently reached out to touch her head and softly petted her.
The little dog sighed.
Emboldened, Nona began to pet Lady with slow, gentle strokes. Lady, after a moment, began to nudge her head into Nona’s hand. A connection formed.
Leaving, Nona met the attentive gaze of those brown eyes. Lady seemed to watch her, trying to determine if this meeting was just a one-time deal or…?
“Wait for me, I’ll be right back,” she whispered to the dog, closed the cage, and rushed off to find a volunteer.
“Did you have a nice chat?” the smiling volunteer asked Nona.
“I… I want to take her home…” Nona’s breath caught with excitement.
“Straight away?”
“Yes, we connected. You said such elderly dogs hardly ever get adopted. I want to give her a chance.”
“Nona, I should warn you. Lady is a sick dog; she’ll need care if you wish to prolong her life. It requires time, energy, and money.”
“I understand. I’ve raised two wonderful children. I think I can manage. Let’s give her this chance,” Nona was determined.
“All right. I’ll prepare the paperwork. And, there’s something else — we discreetly follow up on our dogs’ well-being, you see, people are different…”
“Of course. Everything you need. Photos, video calls, all vet visits, I’ll keep you informed.”
A couple of hours later, Nona entered her apartment, carrying Lady wrapped in a towel. She set her gently on the floor.
“Welcome home, Lady. Let’s learn together how to live now.”
Nona took a few days off work and devoted herself to Lady’s care. Vet visits, check-ups, grooming, nail trimming, dental care…
Lady turned out to be a very well-behaved dog. Nona laid out pads for her so that Lady could manage her needs indoors if necessary.
Nona tried to take Lady out early in the morning and late at night, minimizing chances of meeting neighbours. She wanted Lady to get used to the new environment without any scaremongering.
*****
“Mum, what have you done? Are you okay?” the daughter’s voice was nearly a shout again.
“I’m very well, thank you for caring about that.”
“Mum, what on earth is it with the dog from the shelter?! And an old, sick one, no less. Are you out of your mind?! Why couldn’t you take up dancing instead?”
“Daughter, your mother is a young woman. I’m only fifty-three – healthy, beautiful, and independent. Isn’t that what I’ve taught you?” Nona parried.
“But, Mum…”
“No buts… You have your life, your brother Alan is far away too. Father swapped me for someone barely out of school. Be a dear and learn to respect and accept my decisions.”
Nona turned off the phone, exhaled, and headed to the kitchen. She fancied a cup of coffee.
“Mum, you’ve outdone yourself! I wouldn’t have guessed! You’re amazing! A dog from a shelter deserves respect. Do you think you’ll manage?” her son supported her, though he was utterly astonished.
“Alan, I’ve raised both you and your sister. Managed somehow,” Nona laughed. “I will. The shelter promised help if needed.”
Nona hadn’t mentioned to either her son or daughter that during her late-night walks with Lady, she’d gotten to know the very man who walked the large dog.
His name was James. He was divorced; his wife moved on to a new life in a new country with a new husband. And he ended up with a dog…
Guess where from?
Yes, that’s right, James met his dog, Brutus, at the shelter. Brutus had been picked up from the streets. A healthy, purebred dog, frantically running about when they caught him.
Attempts to find the old owners, despite him being microchipped, were unsuccessful. So James and Brutus adjusted to their new life together…
*****
“Mum, Erica and I plan to visit – is that alright? I’d love for you to meet her sooner rather than later. She’s a whirlwind, just like you!”
Nona laughed at her son’s words.
“Come along, darling. We’re looking forward to seeing you both.”
On the 31st, when the doorbell rang, immediately two dogs perked up – James with Brutus were visiting Nona and Lady.
Her son, seeing the gathering, beamed:
“Mum, I’m not waiting till midnight – I’m telling you now. Here’s Erica. I love her, and you’re going to be a grandma soon.
And also – we want to adopt a dog from a shelter. Probably a smaller one for starters, with the baby on the way.”
That night, the city didn’t hold a single sad window – greetings, music, laughter filled the air, spilling over into the wider world with happiness.
And even in the shelters, those animals yet to find a family felt an optimistic vibe – the anticipation of joy.
Let us all be happy!
Sending regards and congratulations from my spirited little Phil. His days in the shelter are likely but a distant memory now.
Because he’s basking in joy and love!
I wish you all happiness!
