Every day, an elderly woman steps out into the courtyard of our building. Shes about eighty years old and is always dressed neatly and with care.
I moved into this block at the end of autumn. Each morning on my way to work I would see my neighbor. Sometimes she sat on a bench beneath a large linden tree, other times she ambled slowly, leaning on her cane.
After a while we began exchanging greetings. I would pause briefly to ask after Madeleine Duponts health and to wish her a good day. She always returned my smile warmly and thanked me.
At the end of December a new resident appeared in our courtyard: a dog. He seemed young, being quite small, yet nobody knew his origins.
It was a scruffy, dirty creature with tangled fur, of no recognizable breed. The moment Madeleine offered him a piece of sausage, his fate was sealed: from that day onward he stayed in the courtyard. He probably wouldnt have survived elsewhere, given how pitiful he looked.
Most of the buildings occupants were displeased by his presence. Many tried to drive him away, shouting, Go away from here! whenever he approached, looking at them with pleading eyes, silently begging for food.
Nevertheless, he sometimes managed to get somethinga resident would toss him a crust of bread, another an old bone. Madeleine also gave him dry biscuits or stale bread, speaking softly while patting his head and calling him Patte.
In spring, when the snow had nearly melted away, I met Madeleine one morning in the courtyard. She told me she would leave that evening with her granddaughter for the countryside and would stay there until autumn.
Perhaps even until the end of autumn, she added. There we have a stove, and by its heat it stays warm even on the coldest nights.
She asked me to promise a visit.
At the end of August I finally decided to see Madeleine. After buying her a small present, I took the bus to the village where she was staying.
When I arrived, I found her seated on the veranda, peeling large red apples. Beside her, stretched on the wooden step, a dog rested peacefully.
Patte, come greet our guest! the old lady called.
The dog leapt up, wagging his fluffy tail enthusiastically, and ran toward me.
He was a beautiful animal, his coat glossy and wavy, shimmering in the sunlight.
Madame Madeleine, is this really the same shaggy Patte from our courtyard? I asked, astonished.
Yes, its him! He turned out to be a real beauty! Madeleine replied with a smile. Come in, lets have some tea. You must tell me all the news from the town!
We sat at the table for a long time, sipping cherry tea and chatting. After eating his porridge, Patte curled up near the hot stove, sighing softly in his sleepperhaps dreaming of something
Outside, a gentle breeze made the appletree branches sway, and large, ripe red apples fell slowly onto the grass.
