A girl from pokrovskoye richardalovsky Ukraine submitted a Facebook message to a local animal shelter claiming that near her departed owner left for a month, the owner of this house left two miserable chained dogs recently.
The name of this poster girl is to detect Xenia rotten smell in this house of course many were ridiculed to Xenia’s dismay and delete the post.
The rescue team of that local shelter had no information, no address, no phone number, and after they saw the sad pictures, they decided to locate themselves to save these two poor pets.
After almost three hours of traveling and questioning the individuals arrived home. After breaking the lock they get into the house a terrible rotten smell was rising, tragically one child did not survive.
The other was a Labrador, he was just bones and a terrible patient, he was starving for several days, he cried a lot and his tears are still flowing. Perhaps he was very sad. He was scared and did not dare to look at the Savior.
They called him the president.
The exhausted child in the car was taken to the vet, the boss is examined, after the transfusion the baby will be taken care of at the vet a little.
Boss has a great appetite, he eats well which is great, he is an exceptionally smart guy.
The boss is developing every day, he is released and welcomed into a temporary house, he is waiting for a joyful home.
Finally something wonderful happened, boss was adopted by a family in Kiev, boss’s wonderful adventure began.
Now is the moment when we look forward to watching the days of this delightful Angel. A really cool boss who loves everything has a big family.
“We appreciate his new family very much. we will always miss you, boss.”
The Gift of Fido
The silence in my small house had grown louder with each passing year. Old and alone, the days stretched out, often indistinguishable from one another. I thought about getting a dog, a creature that would fill the emptiness, a warm presence against the encroaching quiet.
One chilly afternoon, shuffling through the familiar streets, I saw him. A small, scruffy shape huddled near a bin, dirty and clearly hungry. He looked up as I approached, his eyes wide but without fear. I knelt down slowly, offering a tentative hand. He didn’t flinch. I stroked his matted fur, spoke softly to him. When I stood up to leave, he simply followed, a silent, trusting shadow.
Now, he is my dog. My Fido. I am his human, his owner, though it feels more like we own each other. The silence is gone, replaced by the soft pad of his paws, the occasional sigh, the happy thump of his tail against the floor.
I talk to him constantly, sharing my thoughts, my worries, the mundane details of my day. He answers in his own way – a tilt of the head, a soft whine, or his favorite response, a vigorous wash of my hand with his rough tongue.
“Fido,” I’d told him just the other day, the worry etching lines deeper into my face, “tomorrow we won’t have anything to eat. The retirement money is gone, finished. We’ll have to wait until pension day!” He just licked my hand, as if to say, “We’ll figure it out, together.”
And then that blessed day arrives. I join the queue, a line of fellow retirees, each clutching their worn pension book, shattered by time and use. My own is tight in my hands, a thin lifeline. Fido, tied patiently nearby, shakes himself happily, a little dance of anticipation. He knows this day. He knows that today the bowls will be fuller, the meal a little richer, a little better than the thin gruel of the days before.
Winter arrives, wrapping the house in its cold embrace. Without a fire, the air bites. But Fido is there. Curled tightly against my legs on the worn armchair, or tucked beside me in bed, his small body is a furnace, a constant, reliable source of warmth that chases away the chill. He is more than just a dog; he is my living, breathing blanket against the cold world.
The first hesitant rays of spring find us sitting outside, bathed in the gentle warmth of the returning sun. We sit in comfortable silence, simply existing, together, grateful for the light, for the warmth, for each other. And from deep within my heart, a simple prayer is born, a quiet whisper of profound gratitude: “Thank you, Lord, for creating the dog.” For creating Fido, who found me when I was alone, and filled my life with warmth, conversation, and unwavering companionship.
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