Mum, Dad, my brother Michael: everyone in the family got more affection from our ridgeback-staffie cross. And guess whose bed she used to poo on…
I think the tone was set when Ella threw up over me on the way back from the Dogs Trust. She was three months old, rolling around on the back seat between me and my twin brother, Michael (we’d just turned seven), and wasn’t enjoying her first trip in a car. She could have been sick anywhere – over the seat, over the floor – but for some reason she decided to climb on to me first.
It was the start of a beautiful but strangely one-sided friendship. Ella, a ridgeback-staffie cross, was the perfect dog: playful, energetic, naughty and tolerant. She would let us poke and prod her without complaint, turn her ears inside-out or dress her up in T-shirts or the thick woollen poncho my Greek Cypriot grandma knitted her for the British winter. And she was endlessly loving, at least to the other members of the family. Me? Too often it was as if I didn’t exist. If Michael and I were sitting on the sofa, she’d bound up to him. If I came home after a day out with my dad, he was the one she’d jump at. If I tried to take her for a walk by myself, she’d drag her feet and insist that I fetch my brother.
To add insult to injury, about once a year she would do a poo in the house. Not just anywhere, though: she’d climb the stairs to my room and leave it in a neat pile on top of my bed.
I can’t pretend I wasn’t offended by Ella’s attitude – I loved her just as much as anyone. But it took me a while to realise that in her eyes we were both bitches fighting for our place in the pack. I read that dogs are 98.8% wolf, even yappy little chihuahuas. Ella was a definite she-wolf and my mother (she who opened the tin of dog food every night) was the undisputed alpha female. Ella could handle that fact, but she didn’t want to be the omega female. That was me.
Working out the reasons for Ella’s lack of sisterhood, understanding that her indifference was atavistic and not just casual, didn’t make me any less jealous of my brother, who always took great pleasure in the fact that Ella seemed to prefer him. But I resigned myself to the situation. And then one day (happy ending, anyone?) everything changed. I must have been 16 or 17, we’d been away for a fortnight in France, and when we got back it was me she ran up to first, whining and twisting with pleasure at seeing me again. After that it was like all those years of competition had never happened. We were best friends for ever, or at least for the couple of years she had left. Ella finally loved me.
Left alone and suffering, a mother dog brings new life into this world, cradling her newborns in the chilly embrace, longing for love and comfort
What was most shocking? The heartless culprit was none other than the owner, banishing this innocent mother and her pups to such extreme conditions.
As we watched the video, our hearts sank. The mother dog lay outside, shivering, doing her best to protect her newborns.
Despite her own suffering, she ate snow to keep her puppies warm. Her resilience touched us deeply, but we knew they couldn’t survive long.
With urgency, we embarked on a three-hour rescue mission. The scene broke our hearts. We named the mother Maria, and her three pups were finally safe. In a warm, comfortable environment, we vowed to prevent their suffering.
Maria, understandably wary, had endured much pain and neglect. Trust was hard-earned. As we cared for her, she slowly relaxed.
Maria ate well, nourishing her weary body. Seeing her puppies thrive brought joy. We vowed to protect and love them.
Fifteen days later, Maria’s puppies thrived. Maria improved, a testament to their strength.
Fifty days later, the heartwarming news arrived—Maria and her pups had forever homes. We were grateful for the support.
One year later, Maria thrived in her forever home, alongside her companion Mike. Her pups grew into beautiful dogs. They formed a happy family, a testament to compassion.
This story reminds us of resilience and love. Maria’s journey inspires us to fight for the voiceless, ensuring no innocent animal suffers.
May her story kindle compassion and remind us of love’s transformative power.
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