The shelter’s car bounced over the bumps, and bus stops, monotonous panel buildings, and strawberry stands flashed past the window. Lida held the carrier in her lap, and I held a syringe of water. The puppy lay motionless, like a tired child: not from relief, but from complete exhaustion.
The air in the clinic was sharp with disinfectant and the scent of mint tea. The doctor—a short man with a perpetual fringe at the back of his head—carefully palpated the child’s cheek. When he pressed, thick, dark fluid gushed from his mouth; the child winced and instinctively covered his face.
▪︎ Diagnosis: abscess—something piercing, probably a thread.
▪︎ Condition: exhaustion and dehydration, but heartbeat steady.
The doctor spoke calmly, like a master of his profession: restoring life was a craft for him. The table was prepared, and a nurse laid out the instruments. A girl with a braided hair and her mother entered; the latter, shyly, handed over a bag of diapers: «We don’t have much, but maybe you can use it.» The doctor merely nodded: «These are always necessary.»
«S.u ŕgery is needed—we’ll remove the foreign body, clean the w.o ∪nd, and administer antibiotics,» he said calmly.
The puppy fell asleep under light anesthesia. The doctor carefully removed a black thread with a knot in it from his mouth—a pinched plastic bag that had become embedded in the mucous membrane. The w.o ∪nd was cleaned, a drain was placed, and antibiotics were administered.
«Now it’s going to h.u ŕt,» the doctor said quietly, «but we saved him.»
We named him Krosh: because he’s small, because he’s fragile; almost lost, but found again. For the first few days, Krosh only dozed and took fluids in drops. Lida showed him how to properly water him, how to change a dry diaper, and how to monitor his temperature. That evening, an elderly man came in, took off his hat, and laid down two folded bills.
▪︎ «Tomorrow’s my pension, but let’s make it worth the money for medicine,» he said. «I already go to the cemetery to see my wife…»
▪︎ Neighbors brought a pacifier, young people organized an online collection, and a nurse bought a heating pad.
This kind of «little help from everyone» became the foundation of his recovery.
On the third day, Krosh regained his strength: he sat up, his paws trembling, his tail shaking his diaper. He took his first wobbly step, fell, and stared in surprise at the hard ground. He crawled to the water bowl and licked Lida’s hand for the first time—that very conscious gesture of trust.
The swelling went down, and his face acquired a funny wrinkle, like that of a pensive professor. Krosh learned to eat with a spoon every two hours. I took him into my foster home: in my simple, yard-like appearance, for the first time, he felt like he had a place of his own.
Then Galina, a retiree and former math teacher, showed up. “I live alone. I was always afraid to get a puppy, thinking I wouldn’t be able to handle it. But I saw his eyes. I often look like that. Can I try?” she wrote briefly.
Her home was old-fashioned, but secure. Krosh sat down by her slippers, rested his chin, and touched his nose to her fingers. Everything was clear: a home had been found.
A week later, Galina brought a notebook to the shelter with the inscription: “Krosh. Homework.” Inside was neatly written:
1) ate on his own;
2) wasn’t afraid of the vacuum cleaner;
3) slept on his back for the first time;
4) brought a ball.
Rescuing isn’t an epic feat, but a series of tiny victories that make up everyday life.
Conclusion. Krosh’s story reminds us that every saved creature is the result of the coordinated work of doctors, volunteers, ordinary people, and those willing to give a little of their time and money. Small acts of kindness add up to a big change: a puppy who could barely breathe now lives in warmth and safety. And when Krosh steps onto the bench at the same bus stop, he sits calmly and looks into the distance—not hoping to wait, but to return a grateful glance to those who noticed him.
Galina often whispers simple words to him: «Baby, you’re not alone anymore. Even when I go to the store, you’re not alone.»
Every rescue isn’t just about an o.p ℮ration and medication. It’s about people bringing a pacifier, a bottle, fifty dollars, a kind word. It is a daily, painstaking «housework» that brings life back to those who could not cope on their own.
A short guide for those who want to help:
▪︎Watch and don’t pass by;
▪︎If possible, bring needed items (diapers, warm clothes, food);
▪︎Support shelters financially or through volunteering: even a small contribution is important.
This is how stories with happy endings are born – from simple but sincere actions.
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