“Mum, what were you thinking?” her daughter nearly shouted down the phone. “Why on earth would you adopt a dog from a shelter? And one that’s old and sick? You must be out of your mind! Couldn’t you have taken up dancing instead?”
Helen stood by the window, watching as a white mist slowly descended upon the city. Snowflakes danced in the air, settling on rooftops, perching on tree branches, and snapping under the feet of late-night passersby. Recently, standing by the window had become a habit for her.
She used to wait for her husband to return from work, coming home late and tired with a strained voice. The kitchen light was soft, dinner was on the table, and they would converse over a cup of tea… But gradually, their conversations dwindled. He began to come home even later, hid his gaze, and responded to her questions with curt phrases. And then one day, he said, “Helen, I’ve been meaning to tell you… I’ve met another woman. We love each other, and I’m filing for divorce.”
“What? Divorce… what about me, Alex? What will happen to me?” Helen suddenly felt a piercing pain below her shoulder blade.
“Helen, we’re adults. The kids have grown up and moved on with their lives. We’ve had almost thirty years together. But we’re still young. Look, we’re only in our early 50s. I just want something new, something fresh!”
“And I’m just old and worn-out, a memory past its expiry date,” whispered the bewildered woman.
“Don’t exaggerate. You’re not old… But understand, with her, I feel like I’m thirty again. Forgive me, but I want to be happy,” her husband pecked her on the crown and headed to the bathroom.
He was rinsing away the old marriage, humming cheerful tunes, while an immense sadness weighed heavily on Helen’s shoulders. Betrayal. What could be more painful? Helen lost track of time — the divorce, Alex leaving for his new love. Her days turned gray. She had grown used to living for her kids, for her husband. Their problems were hers, their illnesses — hers, their joys and successes — hers. And now? Helen would stand by the window for hours. Occasionally, she’d glance into a small hand mirror inherited from her grandmother, seeing a sad eye, a tear getting lost among emerging wrinkles, a grey hair at her temple.
Helen avoided the large mirror.
“Mum, you need to find something to do,” her daughter’s hurried voice indicated she was about to leave for somewhere.
“Like what, love?” her mother’s dull voice faded into the telephone wires.
“I don’t know. Books, dance classes for ‘seniors,’ art exhibitions.”
“Yes, yes, ‘seniors.’ I’m already past…” Helen couldn’t pull herself together.
“Oh mum, sorry, I’ve got to run.”
Surprisingly, her son Mike showed more understanding about her sadness:
“Mum, I’m really sorry about what happened. You know, Emma and I are planning to visit you for New Year’s. It’ll cheer you up to have us around.” Helen adored her children but marveled at how different they turned out to be.
*****
One evening, scrolling through social media, Helen stumbled upon a post:
“Open Day at the Dog Shelter. Bring along your kids, friends, and family. Our pets will be thrilled to meet each new visitor! We’re located at…” There was mention that if anyone wanted to help, there was a list of needed items. Helen read it once, twice.
“Blankets, throws, old bed linens, towels. I really need to sort through all that clutter. I’m sure I have things I can give them,” she mused into the night, standing by the window, considering what else she could buy on her not-so-large salary.
Ten days later, she was standing at the shelter gates. Helen arrived with gifts. The taxi driver helped unload bags heavy with blankets and fabrics, a rolled-up worn carpet, and a bundle of mats.
Shelter volunteers assisted guests in bringing in bales of linens, bags of food, and gifts for the dogs.
Later, the volunteers divided the guests into groups, walking them along the enclosures and sharing the history of each sad cage’s inhabitant.
Helen returned home exhausted. Her feet felt like they didn’t exist.
“A shower, dinner, sofa. I’ll think about it all later,” Helen told herself. But “later” didn’t come. Images swirled in her mind — people, cages, dogs. And those eyes…
She had seen such eyes in her small mirror — eyes filled with sadness and a disbelief in happiness. She was particularly struck by one little dog, old and grey. She seemed very forlorn, lying quietly in the corner, not responding to anything.
“That’s Lady. A Japanese Chin. Her owner abandoned her at a very venerable age. Lady too is quite old now, already twelve.”
They say with good care, they can live to fifteen. But Lady is an elderly, sick, and sad little dog. Sadly, no one ever takes such cases home,” sighed the volunteer before moving the guests along. Helen lingered by Lady’s cage. The dog didn’t respond, laying on her shabby blanket like an artificial dog, like an old grimy toy…
All week at work, Helen thought about that sad little dog. Within herself, a resurgence of energy arose, and she became more active in her work.
“Lady is my reflection. I’m just not as old. But I’m lonely. The kids have moved away, and my husband stepped over me as if I were a rag on the pavement. But I’m not a rag! No, I’m not a rag!”
Helen left her office and dialed the shelter’s number.
“Hello! I was at your open day event. 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 cage.”
“Please, may I visit her?”
“Lady? Unbelievable! Of course, come down! How about the nearest weekend?” the volunteer discussed the visiting time and hung up.
That evening, Helen stood by her window once again. This time she wasn’t melancholic, reflecting on past days. Instead, she was watching a man in the courtyard playing with a large dog.
The dog darted around the empty nighttime courtyard, fetching a ball time and again and returning it to its owner. The man gently patted the dog’s head.
The weekend approached.
“Lady, hi!” Helen crouched beside the dog. But Lady didn’t stir. Helen sat right on the floor. She wore old jeans she brought to change into at the shelter.
Without edging closer, Helen started talking…
She spoke about herself, her children, how alone she felt in her three-room apartment, with no one to share it with. An hour passed. Helen gently edged towards the blanket where Lady lay. Slowly, she reached out her hand. She touched Lady’s head, gently stroked it.
The dog let out a small sigh.
Gaining confidence, Helen continued to pet the dog with steady, slow strokes. After some thought, Lady began to nuzzle her head under Helen’s hand, establishing contact.
As Helen left, she caught Lady’s attentive brown eyes. The dog watched her as though trying to comprehend if this was a one-time meeting or…
“Wait for me, I’ll be back soon,” the woman whispered to the dog, closed the cage, and hurried off to find the volunteer.
“So, did you two have a chat?” the young woman smiled at Helen.
“I… I want to take her home…” Helen was breathless with excitement.
“Just like that?”
“Yes, she responded. You say such old ones have little chance. I want to give her that chance.”
“Helen, I have to warn you. Lady is a sick dog; she’ll need care if you wish to extend her life. That takes time, effort, and money.”
“I understand. I’ve raised two wonderful children. I think I can manage. Let’s give her that chance,” Helen was determined.
“Alright. I’ll prepare the adoption papers. Also, we discreetly keep track of our pets’ futures. You know, people can be…”
“Of course. Anything you require. Photos, video calls, any vet visits — I’ll keep you updated.”
A few hours later, Helen entered her apartment, cradling the dog wrapped in a towel. She gently placed her on the floor.
“Well, Lady, this is your new home. Let’s figure out our new lives together.”
Helen took a few days off work and focused entirely on caring for the dog. Vets, check-ups, groomers, nail trimming, extracting unhealthy teeth…
Lady turned out to be a well-mannered little dog. Helen laid out pads indoors so if necessary, Lady could relieve herself comfortably.
Helen tried to take her out early in the morning and late in the evening to avoid neighbors, allowing Lady time to adjust to her new environment without fear.
*****
“Mum, what did you do? Are you alright?” her daughter almost shouted on the phone.
“I’m fine. Thank you for caring enough to ask.”
“Mum, why on earth a dog from a shelter? And one that’s old and sick! Are you bananas? Couldn’t you have taken up dancing or something?”
“Honey, your mum is a young woman. I’m only fifty-three. Healthy, beautiful, independent. Not what I taught you!” Helen retorted.
“But mum…”
“No buts… You have your life, and your brother Michael is also far away. Father — he replaced me with a girl barely out of school. Learn to respect and accept my decisions.”
Helen turned off the phone, took a deep breath, and headed to the kitchen. She fancied a coffee.
“Mum, you’re something else! I wouldn’t have guessed! Amazing job adopting a shelter dog. But do you think you have the patience?” her son was impressed, though he was incredulous.
“Mike, I did fine raising you two. I coped somehow,” Helen laughed. “I’ll manage. They promised support at the shelter if needed.”
Helen didn’t mention to either her son or daughter that during her night walks with Lady, she’d become acquainted with the man who played with the large dog.
His name was John. He’d been through a divorce; his wife had moved abroad with a new man. Meanwhile, he found a new companion in his dog…
Where from, you might wonder?
Yes, John found his Max at the shelter. Max had been rescued from the pound. An energetic pedigree dog running frantically through town when caught. Efforts to trace his former owners, despite a microchip, were unsuccessful. So, John adapted to his new circumstances with Max.
*****
“Mum, Emma and I are planning to visit if that’s okay? I want to introduce her to you quickly. She’s quite a character, like you!”
Helen chuckled at her son’s words.
“Come over, son. We’ll be here.”
On the 31st, when the doorbell rang, two dogs stood alert — John with Max came to visit Helen and Lady.
Seeing the lively group, her son beamed,
“Mum, I won’t wait until midnight, I’ll tell you now. Here’s my Emma. I love her, and you’re soon going to be a grandmother. And oh, we plan to adopt a dog, probably a small one first. The baby will be here soon…”
That night, there were no lonely windows in the city — the joy of greetings, music, and laughter filled the air. Even in the shelters, pets who had not yet found families felt a certain hope — the expectation of happiness.
So let us all find happiness!
And dear friends, warm greetings and best wishes from my delightful little boy, Phil. I hope he no longer remembers his time in the shelter, for he’s basking in happiness and our love!
Wishing you all joy!
