— Mum, what did you do? — her daughter almost shouted into the phone. — Why on earth would you get a dog from a shelter?! And an old, sick one at that. You’ve lost your mind! Why didn’t you take up dancing?
Fiona stood by the window, watching as a soft white veil descended over the town. Snowflakes danced in the wind, settling on rooftops, perching on tree branches, and breaking under the feet of late-night strollers. Nowadays, standing by the window had become second nature to her.
She used to wait for her husband to come back late from work, tired and with a hoarse voice. The kitchen would be dimly lit, dinner on the table, and conversations over a cup of tea… Gradually, they ran out of things to talk about, and he started coming home even later. He began to avoid eye contact, responding to her questions with brief phrases. Then one day…
— Fiona, I’ve been meaning to tell you… I’ve met someone else. We love each other, and I’m filing for divorce.
— What? Divorce? And me, Alex, what becomes of me? — Fiona suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest.
— Fiona, we’re adults. The kids are grown up and living their own lives. We’ve had nearly thirty years together. But we’re still young. You and I just turned fifty. I want something new, something fresh!
— So I’m just old and faded away, a memory past its sell-by date, — whispered a bewildered Fiona.
— Don’t exaggerate. You’re not old… It’s just that there… I feel like I’m thirty again. Forgive me, but I want to be happy, — he gave her a quick kiss on the head and went into the bathroom.
He washed away the remnants of their marriage, humming lively tunes, while Fiona was overwhelmed by profound sorrow… Betrayal. What could be more bitter?
Fiona didn’t realize how time flew by – the divorce, Alex leaving for his new muse. Her days turned gray without them. She was used to living for her children, for her husband. Their problems were her problems, their joys and successes were hers. But now?
Fiona spent hours by the window. Sometimes she would look into a small hand mirror inherited from her grandmother. She saw her sad eyes, tears lost in newly formed wrinkles, and the odd gray hair at her temple.
Fiona dreaded looking into a larger mirror.
— Mum, you need to find something to do, — her daughter’s hurried voice indicated she had somewhere to be.
— What, darling? — her mother’s dull voice faded over the phone lines.
— I don’t know. Books, maybe, or dance classes for the over-fifties, exhibitions…
— Yes, yes, those for the over-fifties… I’m already over… — Fiona couldn’t pull herself together.
— Oh, mum, sorry, I’m in a rush.
Surprisingly, her son Luke was much more understanding of her melancholy:
— Mum, I’m really sorry everything turned out this way. You know, Iris and I want to visit you, maybe for New Year’s. You’ll like meeting her. It’ll cheer you up.
Fiona adored her children, but she marveled at how different they were…
*****
One evening while browsing social media, Fiona came across an announcement:
“Shelter open day. Come along, bring your children, friends, and family. Our pets would be very pleased to meet each new guest! Address inside…”
There was also a note that those wishing to help the shelter could bring needed items.
Fiona read it once, then again.
— Blankets, quilts, old bedding, towels. I should organize all my clutter. I’m sure there’s something I could give them, — she pondered at night.
Standing by the window, she considered a list of essentials she could buy with her modest salary. Ten days later, she was at the gates of the shelter. Fiona had arrived with gifts. The taxi driver helped unload endless heavy bags of blankets and cloth. He took out a rolled-up rug and a bundle with old mats.
Shelter volunteers helped guests carry in bundles of linen, bags of food, and gift bags for the dogs. Later, the guests were divided into groups, and led along the kennels with each resident’s story…
Fiona returned home exhausted. Her legs felt like lead.
— Right, shower, dinner, then sofa. I’ll think about it later, — she told herself.
But “later” never came. Images kept swirling in her mind – the people, the kennels, the dogs. And their eyes…
Fiona saw similar eyes in her little hand mirror. Eyes filled with sadness and disbelief in happiness.
One dog, in particular, struck her, an old, gray one. It was very sad, lying quietly in the corner, not reacting to anyone.
— This is Lady, a Japanese Chin. Her owner abandoned her at quite an old age. Lady is elderly as well, she’s twelve years old.
They say with good care they can live up to fifteen years. But Lady is an old, sick, sad dog. Unfortunately, no one takes such dogs home, — the volunteer sighed and led the guests further.
Fiona lingered by Lady. She didn’t respond. She lay on an old blanket, like an artificial dog, like an old dirty toy…
All week at work, Fiona kept thinking about that sad dog. She herself suddenly felt a surge of energy, becoming more active at work.
— After all, Lady is my reflection. I’m just not as old yet. But I am lonely. The kids have gone their ways, and my husband stepped over me like I was just a rag on the pavement. But I’m not a rag! No, I’m not a rag!
Fiona left her office and dialed the shelter.
— Hello! I attended your open day. You told me a lot about Lady, the old dog. Do you remember? — she inquired hopefully.
— Yes, of course, I remember. You were the only one who stopped by her kennel.
— Please, may I visit her?
— Lady? Incredible! Of course, come by! This weekend would be perfect, — the volunteer arranged the visit and hung up.
That evening, Fiona stood by the window once more. But this time, she wasn’t lamenting her past life. She watched a man in the courtyard playing fetch with a large dog. The dog bounded around the empty yard, chasing a ball and returning it to its owner, who affectionately patted its head.
The weekend approached.
— Lady, hello! — Fiona crouched by the dog. But Lady didn’t stir.
Fiona sat down on the floor. She wore old jeans she’d brought to change into at the shelter. Without approaching the dog, she began to speak…
She talked about herself, her children. How she was alone in a three-bedroom apartment that now had no one to share it with.
An hour passed. Fiona edged closer to the blanket where Lady lay. Slowly, she extended her hand. She touched its head, gently stroking it.
Lady sighed.
Encouraged, Fiona caressed the dog with steady, slow motions. After some contemplation, Lady began to nudge her head under Fiona’s hand. A connection was made.
As she left, Fiona caught the attentive gaze of those brown eyes. The dog looked at her as if trying to understand whether this meeting was a one-off or…?
— Wait for me, I’ll be quick, — the woman whispered, closing the kennel door and hurrying to the volunteer.
— So, did you two get along? — the girl smiled at Fiona.
— I… I want to take her home… — Fiona’s excitement made her breathless.
— Just like that?
— Yes, she responded to me. You said dogs like her hardly ever get a chance. I want to give her that chance.
— Fiona, I have to inform you. Lady is a sick dog; she’ll need care if you want to extend her life. It requires time, energy, and money.
— I understand. I raised two wonderful kids. I think I can manage. Let’s give her this chance, — Fiona was convincing.
— Alright. I’ll draw up the paperwork. We do like to keep an eye on the pets’ welfare. You understand, people can be unpredictable…
— Of course. Whatever you need. Photos, video calls, every vet visit, I’ll inform you.
A couple of hours later, Fiona entered her flat, holding the dog wrapped in a towel. She gently set her down on the floor.
— Well, Lady. This is your new home. Let’s figure out how to live together now.
Fiona took a few days off and dedicated herself to Lady. Vet appointments, health check-ups, grooming, nail trimming, dental care…
Lady turned out to be well-behaved. Fiona laid down mats, so Lady could relieve herself if needed. She aimed for early morning and late evening walks, minimizing encounters with neighbors, ensuring Lady could adjust without any scare.
*****
— Mum, what did you do? Are you alright? — her daughter nearly screamed into the phone.
— I’m perfectly fine. Thanks for your concern.
— Mum, what on earth were you thinking getting a dog from the shelter?! Especially an old, sick one. You’ve gone mad! Couldn’t you have taken up dancing?
— Darling, your mum’s a young woman. I’m only fifty-three. I’m healthy, beautiful, independent. And that’s not the lesson I taught you! — Fiona retorted.
— But, mum…
— No “buts”… You have your own life, your brother Luke is far away too. Your father replaced me with someone barely out of school. Please learn to respect and accept my choices.
Fiona switched off the phone, sighed, and went to the kitchen. She fancied a coffee.
— Mum, you’re amazing! I wouldn’t have guessed! You’ve done something incredible! A shelter dog deserves such respect. Will you have the patience for it? — her son applauded, though shocked.
— Luke, I raised you two, didn’t I? Managed somehow, — laughed Fiona. — I can do it. The shelter promised to help if needed.
Fiona hadn’t mentioned to her children that during her late-night strolls with Lady, she’d met the same man who played with the large dog. His name’s David. He’s divorced; his wife left for a new life with a new husband overseas. And he found a dog…
Guess where from?
Yes, David met his Abrek in the shelter. Abrek was taken there from a rescue operation. A healthy purebred dog, running frantically around town, when he was caught. Despite his identification mark, the search for previous owners was fruitless, and so David began his new life with Abrek…
*****
— Mum, Iris and I want to come visit, if that’s alright? I want you to meet her sooner rather than later. She’s amazing. She’s quirky, like you!
Fiona laughed heartily at her son’s words.
— Come over, dear. We’re expecting you.
On the 31st, when the doorbell rang, two dogs were immediately on alert – David and Abrek had arrived at Fiona and Lady’s for a visit.
Her son, seeing the lively group, was thrilled:
— Mum, I won’t wait ‘til midnight, I’ll tell you now. This is my Iris. I love her, and you’ll soon be a grandmother. And guess what – we want to adopt a shelter dog too. But probably a small one to start, with a baby on the way…
That night, there weren’t any gloomy windows in town – cheers, music, and laughter filled the city and the entire world with joy.
Even in the shelters, dogs and cats still waiting for homes felt a special sense of anticipation – the hope for happiness.
So let’s all be happy!
To my dear friends, warm greetings and wishes from my splendid little boy, Phil. I trust he no longer remembers the shelter life.
He’s basking in happiness and showered with our love!
I wish you happiness!
