Go Away and Don’t Come Back — Go, Do You Hear Me? – With tears streaming down his face, Michael whispered, “Go away, and never come back! Never.” With trembling hands, the boy unclipped the heavy metal chain, dragged Berta to the gate, flung it open, and tried to push her out onto the road. She didn’t understand what was happening. Was she really being kicked out—and why, when she’d done nothing wrong? “Please go, I beg you,” Michael repeated, hugging the dog. “You can’t stay here. He’ll be back soon and…” Just then, the door flew open and a drunken Victor stumbled out onto the porch, axe in hand. ***** If people could even imagine for a moment how hard life can be for dogs abandoned on the streets through no fault of their own, many would surely change their attitudes. At the very least, they might look at them with sympathy and pity, rather than contempt and anger as happens all too often. But how can people know what trials befall our four-legged friends, what they’ve endured—and how could they possibly understand? After all, dogs can’t share their stories, nor can they complain about their fate. All their pain, they hold inside. But perhaps I can tell you one such story—a story of love, betrayal and loyalty… And I’ll start at the very beginning, when Berta became unwanted just weeks after she was born. No one really knows why her first owner didn’t want her. Maybe simply because she existed. So he did the only thing he could think of: he drove the then-tiny pup to the nearest village and… left her on the roadside. Yes, just left her. He didn’t even bother to drop her off in the village, where someone might have adopted her. Instead, he left the poor thing right beside the busy main road and drove on back to London without a second thought. Cars, lorries, buses—so many whizzing by at terrifying speed. Just one wrong step, and the puppy could have ended up under the tyres. Maybe that’s exactly what her owner was hoping for. And even if she didn’t get run over, with no food or water she’d never have lasted long—she was far too small. But by sheer luck that day, the nameless pup crossed paths with Michael. And thanks to him, she survived. It happened that on that very day, Michael’s father gave him a brand new bike for his fourteenth birthday, and Michael was eager to try it out. “Don’t you dare leave the neighbourhood!” his mum, Antonia, called out as he pedalled off, full of excitement. “I won’t, Mum!” he shouted back over his shoulder. Of course, before long Michael had left the village, since the roads there hadn’t been fixed in years—potholed and full of bumps, even walking was difficult, let alone cycling. But just past the village, a new bit of tarmac had been laid, and Michael couldn’t resist the thrill of the open road. As he neared the motorway and thought about turning back, he spotted the tiny puppy running frantically at the roadside, darting first one way, then the other, sometimes rushing at cars and narrowly jumping away at the last moment. It was heartbreaking to watch. “What’s wrong with it? Why is it here all alone?” Michael wondered as he hopped off his bike and approached the frightened little creature. ***** “Mum, Dad, look who I found!” Michael called proudly when he returned home. “Someone abandoned her on the road. Please, can we keep her? She’s so cute!” “Michael, you told me you wouldn’t leave the neighbourhood!” Antonia chided. “I asked you not to!” “I only rode up to the main road and back,” Michael said, ashamed. “But it was worth it, wasn’t it? If I hadn’t picked up this puppy, she’d have died.” “And what about you?” Antonia sighed. “Did you think of yourself? You could have ended up under a car too. Kids shouldn’t go near roads alone, especially not on bikes.” “I promise I won’t do it again, Mum. Can we keep her? I’ll take care of her, I swear. Besides, I’ve always wanted a dog—and today’s my birthday!” Antonia shook her head. “You’re lucky all you get today is a telling-off—and not something worse for disobeying.” Michael hugged the puppy tightly, worried his parents would take her away. “Oh, let the boy be,” interjected his dad, Peter, who was in a good mood. “It’s his birthday—he’s fourteen, not a little kid! He found a lovely dog too, not some scrawny stray. She’ll guard the garden for us. Keep her, son. I’ve got no objections.” “Well, if your dad’s okay with it, so am I,” Antonia relented, smiling at her son. “Brilliant! Thank you! You’re the best parents ever!” Michael was over the moon. That same day, he named the puppy—in fact, she turned out to be a “her”—Berta. From that moment, Michael barely touched his new bike, spending every hour with his new furry best friend. For a while, it seemed nothing could go wrong. Berta was saved from certain death, Michael had at last the dog he’d always secretly dreamed of (he’d worried his strict dad would never allow it), and even his parents were happy to see him so delighted. Surely, this was a story with a happy ending? Sadly, fate had other plans—trouble struck six months later. It all began when Michael’s dad, Peter, lost his job and turned to drink. He drank heavily, spending all the family’s savings. No amount of pleading from Antonia—no matter how many tears or cries—could dissuade him. In time, nothing could. He became a different man: harsh, cold, and angry at the world… and sometimes, violent. Michael’s only peace came in the garden with Berta, gently stroking her warm fur as he listened to the shouts inside. Berta would lick the tears from his cheeks, comforting him as best she could. But then one day, Peter lashed out at Michael himself. Michael endured as much as he could, but when he tried to escape, it was Berta, previously so gentle, who barked furiously at Peter, buying Michael the seconds he needed to break free. Michael knew his father would return with something far worse than words or fists. He panicked, desperate to protect both his mother and Berta. “Go away, do you hear me?” Michael sobbed, unclipping her chain. “Go—and never come back! Please!” He hugged Berta tightly, then shoved her through the gate and onto the street. She didn’t understand—how could she? She’d done nothing wrong. “Please go,” Michael whispered, “you can’t stay here, Dad will be back soon and…” Just then the door slammed open and Peter—drunk as ever, an axe in hand—staggered out onto the step. “Mum, Dad’s coming—please, Berta, run!” Michael pleaded. “Don’t ever come back!” And so, Berta finally ran—disappearing down the road, leaving the boy she loved to keep his family safe. ***** Years passed—first months, then whole years. Seven long winters and summers. Berta wandered from one village to the next, sometimes cared for by a lonely old man, sometimes fending for herself. She saw the burned-out shell of her old home, empty and silent. She learned, by scent, that Peter was gone for good and Michael and Antonia had long since left for the city. But hope is hard for a dog to kill. Then, one snowy day at the cemetery where she’d found some shelter, she saw Michael again—grown now, a young man come back to make peace with his father’s memory. When their eyes met across the gravestones, memories flooded back. Michael recognised her at last—they ran to each other, hugging, laughing, and crying, Berta leaping around him with joy. She went home with Michael and his wife. They built a new life—one with children, a rescued kitten, family trips, and even a new house in the countryside. And despite all the pain and hardship that both Michael and Berta had faced, at last they were truly happy.

Leave and Dont Return

Go. Please, go, Tom whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. Go and never come back. Never.

With trembling hands, he unclipped the heavy chain, dragged Molly towards the fence, wedged open the garden gate and tried to push her out onto the lane.

She couldnt understand what was happening.

Was she really being sent away? But why? She hadnt done anything wrong

Please, just go, Tom repeated, wrapping his arms tightly around his dog. You cant stay here. Hell be back soon and

Just then, the front door banged open and his drunken father, Dave, staggered out onto the doorstep, axe in hand.

*****

If only people could imagine, for just a moment, how hard a dogs life is when they end up on the streets through no fault of their own. Perhaps, theyd view them differently. Maybe with more sympathy, less disdain.

But how can anyone truly know what these loyal creatures go through? They cant speak or complain about their hardships. They simply carry their pain within.

Allow me to share a storyabout love, betrayal, and faithfulness

It all began with Molly, who was unwanted from the start.

Nobody remembers what it was about her that her first owner disliked so much. Perhaps just the fact that shed been born.

Whatever the reason, her owner couldnt think of anything better than to drive the two-month-old pup to the nearest village and just abandon her by the roadside.

Yes, just left her there.

He hadnt even bothered to take her into the village where, likely, someone might have taken her home. Instead, he simply dumped the tiny, confused animal next to the busy A-road, then drove off with a clear conscience.

Cars, lorries, buses thundered past at high speed. One wrong move and Molly could so easily have been hit.

Perhaps thats what hed hoped for.

And even if she hadnt been run down, she wouldnt have lasted long without food or water. She was just a baby.

But that day, luck was on her side.

Fate led her to Tom.

It happened on the very day Tom received a brand new bicycle for his fourteenth birthday. He was eager to try it out.

Dont leave the village! his mum, Margaret, called out as he hopped onto his new bike with excitement. Did you hear me, love?

I know, Mum! Tom shouted back, already speeding down the lane. Ill be fine!

But Tom did leave the village. The roads in the village were a messpotholes everywhere. It was impossible even to walk comfortably, let alone ride a bike.

Yet, only a month earlier, a fresh tarmac road had been laid leading from the village to the city. Tom longed to feel the breeze as he cycled along its smooth stretch.

It was quieter there, especially on weekends when everyone stayed home.

Just as he prepared to turn back, he spotted a tiny puppy by the roadside, darting from side to side in terror, lunging at cars and springing away at the last second. It was heart-wrenching to watch.

Whats up with him? Whys he running about like that? Tom wondered as he hopped off his bike.

He gently laid his bike on the grass and hurried towards the pup.

*****

Mum, Dad, look who I found! Tom beamed as he stepped inside, cradling the trembling puppy. Someone dumped her by the road. Can we keep her? Shes lovely.

Tom! Margaret scolded. You went outside the village, didnt you? I told you not to.

I only went as far as the main road, Mum. And see, it was for a good reason. This puppy wouldve died if I hadnt found her.

And what if youd been hit by a car? Margaret sighed. Its dangerous out there. You know you shouldnt be on busy roads by yourself.

I promise I wont do it again. But what about hercan we keep her? Ill look after her, I promise. Ive wanted a dog for ages. And it is my birthday today.

Birthday or not, it doesnt excuse disobeying me, Margaret shook her head as she eyed the bundle in his arms.

Tom hugged the puppy closer, fearing his parents would take her away.

Let the lad be, said Toms dad, Frank, whod had a drink and was in a jolly mood. Hes fourteen now, a proper young man. Remember half the things we got up to at his age! And thats a fine little dognot some runt, a proper breed. Shell watch the place for us. I say keep her, son.

If your dads alright with it, I am too, Margaret relented, smiling at Tom.

Thank you! Youre the best parents ever!

He was overjoyed. That very day, he named her Molly.

At first Tom had thought Molly was a boy, but quickly realised otherwise. She was sweet and gentle, and instantly became his closest friend. Forgetting all about his bicycle, Tom now spent his days with his new companion.

What could go wrong? The puppy was saved from certain death, Tom was over the moon to finally have a dog, and even his parentsthough never dog-loverswere happy for him.

But happiness only lasted six months.

Trouble began when Frank, Toms dad, lost his job. Struggling to cope, he took to drink.

He spent all the familys savings on whisky and beer. Margaret pleaded with him, sometimes with tears, sometimes with shouts, but it only made things worse. Frank grew mean, bitter, angry at everyone and everything.

He started taking it out on Margaret. Even the tiniest thing set him offa leaky roof, a missing sausage, the price of cigarettes. Somehow it was always Margarets fault.

Nothing could get through to him.

Me? You think this is my fault? Frank would roar.

Of course, he was to blame. No one had forced him to drink. He could have found a new job in the citya driver, a porteranything. Tom would need money soon for university. But Frank didnt want city life; and since the local factory closed, there was no decent work left.

Marg! Wheres me whisky? Frank would yell first thing in the morning.

Margaret tried everything to stop him but things never ended well. One word too many, a hidden bottleFrank turned violent. He became a monster.

She forbade Tom from getting involved, fearing Franks heavy hand.

In those moments, Tom would escape to Molly outside, stroking her soft ears as he stared bleakly at the house where his parents argued. Molly licked his tear-streaked cheeks, as if she understood. She always tried to comfort him.

One day Frank turned on Tom as well. Margaret had gone shopping, and Tom was just playing fetch with Molly in the garden when Frank called him over, grabbed his arm and landed a hard cuff around his head. Again and again.

Tom tried not to cry, but the pain was too muchhe yelped and pulled away. Franks grip was like a vice.

Suddenly, good-natured, gentle Molly flew into a frenzy, barking furiously at Frank. Genuinely startled, Frank dropped his hold and stumbled back.

Tom seized his chance and slipped free. But he knew Frank wasnt done; he would be back, probably with something worse.

What was Tom to do?

Go, please go, he whispered through tears. Go and dont come back. Ever.

Hands shaking, he unfastened the heavy chain, dragged Molly to the fence, flung open the gate, and tried desperately to push her out.

She didnt understand.

Why was she being sent away? What had she done wrong?

Please, Molly. You cant stay here. Hell be back any minute

At that very moment, the door burst open and Frank staggered outside, axe in hand.

Tom! bellowed Frank, red with rage. Whyd you let the dog off? Who asked you?

Dad, please, dont Tom pleaded, shrinking back.

He was terrifiedready to run away forever with Molly if he had to.

But how could he leave his mum behind with that man?

Dont what?! Frank glared, glassy-eyed at Tom and the dog. Leave the dog alone and sober up, Dad. Youre not even you dont look human any more.

Oh, am I not? The dog shouldnt have snapped at me, Frank retorted. I fed her, didnt I? Ill deal with her, and then Ill teach you some respect, young man. Youre getting cheeky, arent you? Ill soon teach you.

He lurched forward, almost tripping over the steps, but caught himself on the post and approached fast.

Bring her here!

Frank! Frank, stopplease! Margaret cried, returning from the shop just in time. Shes just a pupyoull kill her!

Dont interfere, Marg. This mongrel needs to learn whos boss. Tom, bring her here. Now.

There was no time left.

Tom turned to Molly, met her eyes, kissed her cold, wet nose, shoved her towards the lane, and shouted, choked with tears:

Go! Go now, Molly. Im so sorry. Please forgive us. I never wanted it to be like this.

Frank, realising what Tom was doing, roared with fury.

And Molly, glancing one last time at Tom, bolted for the woodsthe only place she might be safe.

Dont come back, Molly! Hell kill you if you do! Tom shouted after her.

Molly couldnt see what happened next, but she could only hope Tom and Margaret would be safe.

*****

Time passed.

Not just a month or a year.

Seven whole years slipped by as Molly carried on, not daring to hope but unable to let go.

Her hope that shed one day see Tom again grew fainter each year.

When she finally crept back to the village six months later, steeling herself, she found the old gate ajar. She nudged it open with her nose and slipped through to find only the charred remains of the house. No one was there. No Tom, no Margaret, andthough this didnt upset herno Frank either.

She returned three or four more times, but never found them. Yet Molly never had the sense that something terrible had happened. Perhaps theyd just moved. She didnt know where, but she knew they would probably never return. Their home was gone.

So Molly wanderedrestless from one village to the next, never staying anywhere for long. Then, fate brought her to an elderly man by the roadside near her old village.

It was like déjà vu.

Lost, are you? the old man chuckled, stroking his white beard. Fancy coming along with me?

With no other choice, Molly followed.

The old man, Arthur, was fond of the drink as it turned out, but he was kind and always shared what he hadsoups, bits of bread, meaty bones. He even took her to work.

Arthur was a night watchman at the local cemetery.

At first, exploring the graveyard felt strange. But Molly soon grew used to itand to Arthur. He was, she realised, a lonely soul, just like she was.

When he drank, hed sometimes pour his heart out about his lost wife and estranged daughter who wouldnt speak to him any more.

Molly would curl up at his feet, pressing her nose to his knee, listening in quiet sympathy.

When Arthur grew quiet, Molly would remember how things wereMargaret, Tom. She tried not to remember Frank.

Then, one drizzly evening as Molly wandered between the gravestones with Arthur, she caught a familiar, unpleasant scent. Hesitating, she realised it was Franks grave.

She paused, uncertain.

Whyre you just standing there? Arthur asked, seeing Molly hesitate by the gravestone. Oh, its Frankone of the old village lot. Burned in his own house. His wife and lad, thankfully, got out. People said he drank himself to deathreally tormented his family. They say you should only say good of the dead, though. Come on now, lets move on.

Molly stayed with Arthur for almost five years, until he too passed away, leaving her alone again.

Where could she go? She was old now, and nobody wanted her. So Molly stayed on at the cemetery, surviving on scraps, waiting for her own time. She didnt need another ownerArthur had been more like a companion in misfortune.

One winters day, the first snow fell.

Molly, doing her customary rounds for something to eat, stopped suddenly, hearing voices. A mans and a womans, standing by Franks grave.

It was unusual to see anyone visit on a weekend, especially here.

She crept closer, curiosity winning out. Who could be coming to see Frank?

I told you, Alice, coming to my dads grave is a bad idea. Whats the point? After what he did, I want nothing to do with him. You keep telling me I should forgive him For what? For putting my mum in her grave before her time?

You must, Tom. You must forgive and let him rest. How many more nightmares are you going to have? Trust me, as soon as you let go, things will get better. No matter what your father was, he was your father. You keep dreaming about him because his soul cant settle.

What do you know?

My gran told me, Alice said softly. Forgive him and itll be easier for both of you.

Maybe, maybe youre right.

Tom looked at the gravestone, furrowing his brow, then relaxed.

I forgive you, Dad. For me, for Mum, and for Molly If only I hadnt lost my best friend because of you. I just hope shes alright, wherever she is.

All this time, Molly had stood silently a few paces behind Tom, hardly believing her eyes.

It was himher Tom. Grown up now, more serious, but still the same.

Would he know her?

Sensing her presence, Tom turned sharply.

Tom, whats wrong? Alice asked anxiously. You look like youve seen a ghost.

Not a ghost a dog, Tom replied quietly.

And? Theres plenty of dogs in graveyards. Why so spooked?

Ive seen her Im sure I know her Wait, its

He edged a little closer, hesitating, watching the old dog. Then, step after step, fears faded. Molly wagged her tail, edging towards him. In the next instant, they rushed together.

Alice barely had time to react before Tom dropped to his knees, hugging Molly with all his heart as she leaped up, licking his cheeks, nose, chin.

Her long-held hope had come true. She had finally found her Tom, after all those endless years.

*****

Of course, Tom took Molly home. She got along wonderfully with Alice.

And so, they all lived together. First, the three of them. Then, after Molly found a stray kitten in the street, they all agreed to take it inso four. And eventually, a baby boy named Harry joined the family.

Not long after, Tom rebuilt the old house in the village, and every summer they returned, all together, to enjoy the peace of their countryside home.

Despite everything theyd endured, all that Tom and Molly had suffered, they finally found happiness.