Am I really alone? Id always chuckle and answer, Whatever are you talking about? I have a huge family!
For quite a few years, Susan had been living on her own in a small cottage at the edge of the village. When anyone commented on her living arrangements, it always amused her.
Alone, am I? Not a bit of it. My familys rather large! shed say.
The village ladies would just smile politely and nod, but as Susan walked past, theyd exchange glances, twirling a finger near their temples, as if to say, That ones touched, calling her pets family. No husband, no children, living like an animal
But it was these very animals that Susan actually thought of as her family. She cared little for what others thought. To them, animals were to be kept for a purpose: a few chickens, maybe a sheep or two, a dog to guard the house, and just one cat for the mice.
Susan, on the other hand, had five cats and four dogsunthinkably, all of them lived inside, never confined to a shed or the garden as her neighbours insisted was proper.
They chatted among themselves, knowing full well there was no point trying to convince that odd oneSusan would only laugh it off.
Oh, nonsense! The outdoors is quite enough for them already; were all happiest inside together, shed reply.
Five years ago, Susan lost her husband and son in a single afternoon. They were coming back from a fishing trip when a lorry swerved onto the wrong side of the road.
After the shock wore off, Susan realised she no longer could stand living in the same terraced house, where every room, every corner, held memories of her beloved men. Nor could she bear to walk the same high street or pass prying neighbours offering pitying looks.
So, six months later, Susan sold the house and, taking her cat Molly, moved out to a quiet village and bought that little cottage on the outskirts. She spent the summers tending her vegetable patch, and once winter arrived, she started working in the kitchen of the local care home.
All her animals came from different places, at different times. Some she found at bus stops, hungry and ragged; others turned up, drawn by the scent of food from the kitchen.
Thats how Susan, so often called a lonely woman, built herself a great family made up of kindred soulsonce alone and wounded, much like herbut her enormous heart mended their scars as they mended hers. There were games to play, love to share, warmth to go around for everyone.
There was enough food, too, even if it wasnt always easy. Susan knew she couldnt keep taking in animals forever, and she swore to herself it would never happen again.
One March, after a spell of gentle sunshine, winter returned in full force: snow blew in with a biting wind and drove everyone indoors.
Susan was hurrying to catch the 7 oclock bus, the last one back to her village. It was Friday, two days off lay ahead, and after her shift at work, shed popped into the shops for groceries for herself and her furry family. She carried two heavy bags in each hand, loaded with tins and leftovers from work.
Repeating her promise to herself, Susan tried to keep her eyes front, counting down the minutes until she could be home, safe and warm.
And yet, as they say, sometimes the heart sees what the eyes miss. Something inside made her stop, spin round, just ten yards shy of the bus stop.
Beneath a bench lay a dog. She was staring blankly at Susan, her eyes glazed and empty. Clearly shed been there for a while, buried under fresh snowdrifts.
People bustled past, wrapped in scarves and hoods, eager to get home. So many people, and yet no one saw. How could that be?
A pang shot through Susan. Instantly forgetting about the bus and her solemn oath, she sprinted to the bench, dropped her shopping, and reached out to the dog. The dog blinked slowly.
Thank heavens, youre alive! Susan whispered. Come on, my dear, try to get up…
The dog didnt move, but didnt fight as Susan coaxed her out with gentle hands. She hardly cared anymore, ready to leave a harsh world that had given her up.
Later, Susan could hardly recall how she got to the bus station with her armfuls of groceries and a half-frozen dog.
She settled into the quietest corner of the waiting room, vigorously rubbing the shrunken animal, taking each paw in turn to warm it up.
Come on now, love, youre safe with me. Well get you home. Youll be number five, now our doggy squad is even, she murmured, half-laughing.
From the bag she took out some leftover hamburger and offered it. At first, the dog turned away, but as she thawed, life came back to her eyes, her nose twitched, and soon she accepted the treat.
An hour later, there Susan was, standing on the roadside beside her new friendbus long gone, hailing for a lift. Using her belt as a makeshift collar, she led the dog, whom she now called Daisy, who kept so close she seemed attached.
Not ten minutes went by before a cars headlights flashed and stopped for them.
Bless you! Dont worry, Ill keep her on my lap, she wont make a mess Susan assured the driver as she clambered in.
Oh, thats fine, let her have the seat the driver smiled. Shes not exactly a tiny thing, is she…?
But Daisy pressed herself into Susans lap, shivering, somehow managing to curl tightly enough to fit.
Its just warmer this way, Susan mumbled, smiling.
The man nodded, glancing at the makeshift lead around Daisys neck, then quietly switched the heater on. The car was quiet. Susan hugged Daisy close, watching the snowflakes race madly past the window in the headlamps beams.
The driver sneaked a look at the woman hugging her rescued dog. He guessed easily enough what had happened. She looked tired, but content.
He let them out at her gate, and got out himself to help with the bags. The snow had drifted so high he had to shoulder the gate open, which promptly gave way with a clatter as its rusty hinges snapped.
Dont mind the mess Susan said, sighing. Its needed fixing for ages.
From the house came a cacophony of barking and meowing. Susan hurried to the door. When she unlocked it, her whole menagerie burst out into the snow.
Oh, did you think Id run away from you all? Nonsense! Look here, familys got a new member.
Daisy peered timidly from behind her rescuers legs. Susans dog pack wagged their tails furiously, noses questing for the treats in the mans arms.
Good heavens, what are we doing shivering out here Susan said suddenly, do come in if our large, noisy family doesnt scare you off. Would you care for a cup of tea?
He set the bags inside but declined her offer.
Its late, I should head off, but you look after them. They clearly adore you
The next day, near lunchtime, there was an unexpected knock at the door. Tugging on her anorak, Susan opened it and saw yesterdays driver.
He was fitting new hinges to the garden gate, tools spread all around. He looked up and smiled.
Afternoon! Broke your gate, so Ive come to fix it. Im David, by the way. And you are…?
Susan…
Her animal clan circled the visitor with much curiosity. He bent to fuss them, grinning.
Susan, dont stand about freezing. Go inside, Ill be in soon and wont say no to a cuppa myself. Theres some cake in the car as well, and a few treats for your rather big family.
Looking over this crowdragtag, loving, and loyalI finally realised something. Family isnt always who you expect. Sometimes, the ones you rescue end up rescuing you.
– Am I really the only one? – she replied, – Oh no, not at all, I have a big family!
