“Bloody hell, Mum, Dad was rightyouve completely lost the plot! I can see it nowyoure off your rocker. Have you even tried getting help?”
Antonia Peters gave her son a stunned look. Hed always been a difficult lad, but to say something like that to his own mother, straight to her face
She never imagined shed end up divorcing her husband after twenty-five years of marriage. But in the end, she was the one who filed.
Because one day, it suddenly hit hershe didnt even know him. Youd think after all that time, youd know someone inside out. But no. Turns out, Derek was colder than she ever realised.
The final straw came when Antonia brought home a scrappy little pup shed found on the streetskinny as a rake, ribs sticking outand he threw a proper fit.
“Toni, have you got nothing better to do?” he bellowed through the house. “Whyd you drag that mangy thing in here?”
“Derek, how can you even say that?” she said, baffled. “Look at him. Hes skin and bones. How could anyone just walk past?”
“Oh, so everyone else manages, but you couldnt? Mother Teresa, are you? Think youre better than the rest of us?”
That night, Antonia cried for hours. Partly for the pup, barely able to stand, and partly because Derek had shown a side of himself she couldnt ignore.
Hed never been perfect, sureshed always let his flaws slide. She thought nobody was perfect, after all.
But that day, he crossed a line. “How?” she sobbed. “How hard is it to just be decent? How can you see a helpless creature and not even try to help?”
And it didnt stop there. He made it clear the “runt,” as he called the pup, was a nuisance.
“When are you getting rid of that thing? How long are we supposed to put up with this half-dead dog?”
“Half-dead” was his pet name for the trembling little thing, even though the flat was warm.
Instead of helping her nurse him back to health or find him a good home, Derek just stormed off to the garage to drink with his mateslosers like him, hiding from their own wives.
Hed come home late, bladdered, and start in on Antonia again about the “useless mutt” shed dragged in.
“I get not liking animals,” she thought, sitting alone in the living room. “But do you even care about me? Cant you see how hard this is for me?”
Because it *was* hard. She had to take time off work for vet visits, walks, and worst of allshe was afraid to leave the pup alone with Derek. After all these years, she didnt recognise him anymore. Who knew what hed do, especially now hed taken to the bottle?
Then one day, at work, a horrible feeling gripped herlike a hand squeezing her chest, a pit in her stomach. She left early, claiming she felt ill.
And thats when she caught him.
Derek was halfway out the door, carrying Benny toward the garage. Probably planning to dump him for good.
That was it. She filed for divorce.
“Over a *dog*?” he roared, waving his arms. “Youve gone round the bend in your old age!”
She ignored him. Old? Hardly. And she hadnt lost her mindshed just realised she couldnt live with him anymore.
Their grown son, living with his girlfriend in another city, took his dads side.
“Mum, are you *mental*? Youre wrecking our family over some stray?”
“There *is* no family, love,” Antonia sighed. “And its not about the dog. Its about your father losing his humanity.”
“You dont have to like animals, but hurting them? No decent man would do that!”
Her son wasnt convinced. Out of protestor maybe blunted male pridehe cut ties with her, saying *she* was the heartless one for leaving Derek homeless.
(The flat was hers before the marriage, so he got nothing. He still had his parents old cottage, but who knew if it was even standing? She didnt care.)
Derek made his choice. No one forced him to turn cruel. She shuddered to think what hed have done to Benny if she hadnt come home in time.
In the end, she kept Benny, nursing him back to health, helping him trust again. Shed planned to rehome him, but
“If I picked you up, Im responsible for you,” she told the scruffy little thing.
“Woof!” Benny wagged his tail. He wasnt going anywhere.
Later, when he was stronger, Antonia started volunteering at a local shelterhelping the animals everyone else had turned their backs on. Just like Derek had.
“Moneys tight,” the shelter manager admitted. “We can barely pay staffif we scrape anything together, its pennies. I dont know if its worth your time.”
“Dont worry,” Antonia said. “Im not here for the money.”
Soon, she and Benny were regulars. Thats where she met Rufusor rather, Benny introduced them.
She noticed the old dogscruffy, grumbling in his kenneland something about his sad eyes reminded her of Benny when shed first found him.
One of the workers told her his story. A story of betrayal.
“We picked him up three years ago. He was wandering the streets, looking at everyonesearching for someone. Turned out, he was looking for his owner.”
“Neighbours said his owner tied him to a lamppost and drove off. No one called it inthought hed come back. He never did.”
“After that, Rufus just waited. Then ran loose, still searching. No one wanted him. Too old. Too broken.”
Antonia refused to let that be the end. She posted his photos everywhere, determined to find him a home.
One woman called. “Is that a beagle? Ive always wanted one.”
“Part-beagle, yes. But listenhes been through a lot. Hes sad, but love could change that.”
The woman took him. When he left, Rufus didnt wag his tail. Just gave Antonia a long, quiet look.
Hed started to trust her. And now he was leaving.
Weeks later, the woman called again. “Can you take him back? Just temporarily. Were going on holidayno one to watch him.”
Antonia hesitated. The shelter was full.
“Fine. Ill look after him.”
When Rufus returned, he was *skinny*. Starved.
“Did you even feed him?” Antonia demanded.
“I did! He just wouldnt eat. I wasnt going to force him.”
The vet confirmed neglect. Antonia called the woman, asking for help with bills.
“Sorry, no cash!” the woman snapped. “And you never said hed get sick!”
“He wasnt sick when you took him!”
“Well, hes *your* problem now. Dont call again.”
Antonia was stuck. Two dogs? On her pension? But one look at Rufuss eyes, and she knewshe couldnt abandon him.
“How many times can one creature be thrown away?”
When Rufus realised he was staying, something in him changed. That little spark of joy returnedeven as his legs shook with arthritis, even as his sight faded.
It was worth it. Even when her son visited, sneering:
“Mum, Dad was rightyoure not right in the head. One dog wasnt enough? Now youve got *two* strays?”
“Vlad,” she said quietly, “they need me. And your fathers never coming back.”
“Fine. Enjoy your lonely life!” He slammed the door.
Antonia whispered after him, “Im not alone, love. Ive got loyal friendsones wholl never betray me.”
The shelter manager offered to take Rufus back.
Antonia shook her head. “No. Hes staying with me. Hes been abandoned enough.”
Some might judge her. Some might say she chose dogs over family. But those whove loved an animal*really* loved onewill understand.
So, what do you think? Was she right? Was Derek? Let me know.
