She lay on the damp grass, clutching her tiny puppy, and it seemed as if the whole world around her had ceased to exist. Only her breathing, ragged and hoarse, and his thin, barely audible squeak. Pain was frozen on her face, but what caught her eyes most were the tears. Real, heavy, rolling down the black fur and falling to the ground. She was not looking around, not at the sky, not at the void — she was looking at her baby’s face, as if trying to remember every curve of his face. As if she knew that tomorrow he might not be around anymore.
It was the outskirts of a small village. The old barn, where the owners had recently driven the cattle, had long been empty. But she was chained here — a thin, emaciated dog with big eyes. She had once been beautiful, strong, loyal, but too much in her life depended on something other than her. The owners kept her for protection, but then they stopped feeding her and forgot to give her water. Her bowl was often empty, and when she gave birth, no one cared about the survival of the babies. Out of ten, two or three remained, and the rest were found dead in the straw.
She understood that they would not forgive her for a new litter of puppies. The owner scolded her, kicked her, said: “How much longer? Should we keep you all for meat?” She cowered, hiding the puppies under herself, and prayed with her dog soul that at least one of them would be saved. But each time the story repeated itself: the owners took the babies, carried them out of the yard, and she never saw them again. She screamed, tore at her chains, howled so loudly that the neighbors heard, but no one interfered.
This time she decided differently. When the owner swung a stick at her again, she hugged one puppy to her chest, ran away, and yanked the chain so hard that the metal tore out of the nail with a crunch. She fell into the grass, but held on to it. She couldn’t save the other babies — they were simply carried away. She was left with one. One — but her own. And this drop of hope was worth everything to her.
She lay next to him, licked his tiny ears, warmed him with her body, although she herself was shaking from cold and hunger. And she cried. Tears flowed by themselves, like a dying plea to the world: «Don’t take this one. Let him live.»
Passers-by saw her, but passed by. Someone shook their heads: «Homeless dogs, what can you expect from them.» Someone felt sorry for him, but hurried about their own business. Only children sometimes came up, looked at the puppy and whispered: «Mommy loves him.» But the adults drove the children away. And night came again. Night when the chain jingled from her movements, and her quiet cry was heard from the darkness.
I came there after a neighbor called. «There’s a dog, she’s crying. I swear, she’s crying like a person. Come and take her. I’m scared myself — the owner is evil.» I didn’t immediately believe the words about tears, but when I saw her, the world inside me seemed to turn upside down. Those were really tears. She looked at me as if I was the last chance, and at the same time — as a threat. Her gaze said: «If you came to take him, you’ll have to go through me.»
I squatted down, slowly, showing that I didn’t have a stick, no threat. The puppy fidgeted, raised his muzzle, squeaked. She licked him and looked at me again. There was everything in her eyes — fear, and supplication, and rage, and faith.
«Calm down, girl,» I said quietly. «I won’t take him. I’ll help you.»
Of course, she didn’t understand the words, but perhaps she understood the intonation. I put down a bowl of water, put some food. She hesitated, then took a step, then another, and finally allowed herself a couple of sips. The puppy reached for her, and I saw his little paws, still trembling with uncertainty.
We quickly took her out of the yard while the owner was away. A neighbor helped — she said that she saw how he wanted to drown the babies. She cried and kept repeating: «If only we had time.» We had time.
In the car, she did not tear herself away from the puppy. She was shaking, but she did not let go. I drove and thought that even a person in despair does not always show such strength — the strength to love at the last moment. She could have given up, let fate decide for her. But she chose to fight — at least for one.
She was treated for a long time at the shelter. She had inflammation, anemia, exhaustion. The vets shook their heads and said, «The chances are slim.» But she lived. Because he was there — her baby, her reason to hold on. She didn’t let him go for a minute. When the doctors tried to take him away for an examination, she would get up, staggering, and follow him until they stopped her.
I saw her change. Every day, a little more light appeared in her eyes, a little more confidence. The puppy grew, and her faith grew with him. When he first stood on his paws and took a few steps, she howled — not from pain, but from happiness. It was the first time her howl didn’t cut my heart, but warmed it.
A couple of months later, a family arrived. They were looking for a puppy, but when they saw her, they stopped. The children immediately rushed to the baby, but the woman looked at the mother. She said quietly: «They should be together. Look how she looks at him.» The husband nodded. And then I understood: they will not be separated.
Now she has a home. Warm, with a green garden and children who hug her every day. The puppy has grown up and runs around the yard, and she lies next to him, no longer crying, and looks at him.
But I will never forget the day I first saw her. A black dog on the damp grass, hugging her baby and crying the way only a mother cries when they want to take away everything she has. She was truly doomed, forgotten, unwanted. But it was her love that worked a miracle – and saved them both.
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