At 65, I realized the real terror wasnt being alone but pleading with my children to call, fully aware that I was a burden to them.
Mom, hi, I need you urgently.
My sons voice sounded as if he were addressing an annoying subordinate, not his mother.
Nina Petrovna froze with the remote still in her hand, the evening news never turning on.
Kirill, hello. Whats wrong?
Nothing, everythings fine, he exhaled impatiently. Katya and I grabbed a lastminute ticket; we fly out tomorrow morning.
And theres no one to look after the Duke. Will you take him?
The Dukea massive, drooling dog that filled more space in her tiny oneroom flat than the old sideboard.
For how long? she asked cautiously, already knowing the answer.
Maybe a week, maybe two, depending on how it goes. Mom, who else but you? Boarding him at a dog hotel would be cruel. You know how fragile he is.
Nina glanced at her newly upholstered sofa, the fabric shed saved for months by skipping small luxuries. The Duke would ruin it in a couple of days.
Kirill, I its uncomfortable. I just finished the renovation.
Mom, what renovation? irritation slipped into his tone. Did you repaper?
He reminded her to walk the dog, then rushed to pack. Well have him in an hour.
A brief buzz. He didnt ask how she was, didnt wish her a happy birthday that had been last week. Shed been waiting for his call all day, had prepared her signature salad, put on a new dress. The kids promised to visit but never showed.
Kirill sent a short text: Ma, happy bday! Swamped at work. Olya said nothing.
Now the message read: Need help urgently.
Nina slowly sank onto the sofa. It wasnt about the dog or the ruined upholstery. It was the degrading feeling of being a freerange caretaker, an emergency service, the last resorta human function.
She remembered years ago, when her children were small, dreaming theyd grow up independent. Now she understood that the worst fear wasnt an empty apartment, but the heartstopping wait for a call that comes only when youre needed.
Begging for their attention at the cost of her own comfort and selfrespect.
An hour later, Kirill knocked, leash in hand, the massive dog bounding in, leaving dirty paw prints on the clean floor.
Mom, heres the food, his toys. Remember three walks a day. Weve got to run or well miss the flight! he thrust the leash into her hand, gave her a quick kiss, and disappeared.
Nina stood in the hallway as the Duke nosily sniffed the arm of a chair. From deeper in the flat came the sound of tearing fabric.
She looked at her phone. Call her daughter? Maybe Olya would understand? Her finger hovered over the screen. Olya hadnt called in a monthprobably busy with her own life, her own family.
For the first time, Nina didnt feel the usual sting of offense. Instead, a cold, clear, sober realization washed over her: enough.
Morning began with the Duke, in a show of affection, leaping onto the bed and leaving two muddy paw prints the size of saucers on the white duvet. The new sofa was already shredded in three spots, and her beloved ficus, nurtured for five years, lay on the floor with bitten leaves.
She poured valerian straight from the bottle, dialed her son. He answered after a pause, waves and Katyas laughter in the background.
Mom, whats up? Everythings great here, the sea is perfect!
Kirill, about the dog. Hes tearing the place apart, shredded the sofa. I cant handle him.
What do you mean? he sounded genuinely surprised. Hes never ripped anything. Maybe youre keeping him locked up? He needs freedom. Mom, dont start this. We just arrived and want to relax. Just walk him longer; hell calm down.
I walked him two hours this morning! He pulled the leash so hard I nearly fell. Please take him back. Find another sitter.
Silence hung. Then his voice hardened.
Mom, are you serious? Were on the other side of the world. How am I supposed to retrieve him? You agreed to take him. Do you expect us to drop everything and fly back because of your whims? Thats selfish, Mom.
The word selfish struck hard. She, whod lived for them all her life, now labeled a selfish one.
Im not being capricious, I
Thats it, Mom. Katya brought cocktails. Keep the Duke entertained. Im sure youll become friends. Kiss.
Another buzz. Ninas hands trembled. She sat on a kitchen chair, away from the wreckage. The sense of helplessness felt almost physical. She decided to call Olya, the more levelheaded daughter.
Olya, hi.
Hi, Mom. Something urgent? Im in a meeting.
Yes. Kirill left his dog with me and flew away. The dog is out of control, destroying furniture. Im afraid hell bite me soon.
Olya sighed heavily.
Mom, Kirill asked. There must have been an emergency. Its not hard to help a brother. Were family. Replace the sofa, buy a new one. Hell reimburse later, maybe.
Olya, its not about the sofa! Its about respect! He put me in an impossible spot!
How else could he? On your knees begging? Mom, youre retired, you have plenty of time. Spend it with the dog. Thats not a problem. Im busy, the boss is watching.
The call ended.
Familywhat a strange word. For her it meant a group that remembered you only when they needed something, then accused you of selfishness when you couldnt instantly comply.
That evening, a downstairs neighbor knocked, fury in her voice.
Nina! Your dog has been howling for three hours straight! My child cant sleep! Calm it down or Ill call the police!
The Duke, standing behind Nina, barked happily, confirming the neighbors claim.
Nina shut the door, looked at the tailwagging dog awaiting praise, then at the shredded sofa, then at her phone, where a low, heavy irritation was building.
Shed always tried to resolve things nicelypersuade, explain, empathize. Yet her logic, feelings, arguments fell on the wall of patronizing indifference.
She grabbed the leash.
Lets go, Duke, walk.
She led the dog along the park path, feeling the tension in her shoulders turn into a dull, throbbing ache.
The Duke strained forward, nearly pulling the leash from her weakening grip. Each tug echoed the sons and daughters words: selfish, plenty of time, hard to help?
Approaching them was Zinaida, a former colleague, in a bright scarf, stylish haircut, laughing eyes, moving with a light, almost dancing gait.
Nina, hey! I barely recognized you! Still buried in care? Grandchild again? she nodded toward the Duke.
Its my sons dog, Nina replied flatly.
Ah, got it! Zina laughed. Youre our eternal problemsolver. Im flying to Spain next week for flamenco! Can you believe it?
At our age! Were going with the girls from the club. My husband grumbled at first, then said, Go, you deserve it. When was the last time you rested?
Zinas question lingered. Nina couldnt recall. Rest had always meant the dacha, grandchildren, helping the kids.
You look tired, Zina said sincerely. You cant carry everything yourself. Let the kids manage their own lives, or youll end up babysitting their dogs while life passes you by. Ive got rehearsal, bye!
She flew off, leaving a fragrant trail of perfume and silence.
While life passes you by. The phrase detonated. Nina stopped abruptly; the Duke stared at her in surprise.
She examined the massive dog, her hands gripping the leash, the gray houses around. She understood she could no longer continuenot a day, not an hour.
Enough.
She opened a browser with shaking fingers, typed best dog hotel Moscow. The first result showed glossy photos: spacious runs, a pool, grooming salon, private trainer sessions, prices that took her breath away.
She dialed the listed number.
Hello, Id like to book a room for a dog, two weeks, full board and spa.
She called a taxi to the park. In the car, the Duke behaved oddly calmly, as if sensing the change.
The hotel smelled of lavender and premium shampoos, not dog odor. A friendly clerk handed her a contract.
Without blinking, Nina wrote Kirills name and phone in the Owner field, and his name again under Payer. She paid the deposit with the money shed been saving for a new coata best investment ever.
Well send daily photos to the owners number, the clerk smiled, taking the leash. Dont worry, your boy will love it.
Back in her modest, though battered, apartment, Nina felt, for the first time in years, not loneliness but peace. She poured tea, settled on the remaining edge of the sofa, and sent two identical messagesone to Kirill, one to Olya:
The Duke is safe at the hotel. All questions to his owner.
Then she muted her phone.
Three minutes later it vibrated on the table. She glanced at the screen: Kirill. She took another sip of tea and let it ring.
She didnt answer. A minute later it buzzed again, followed by a text from Olya: Mom, what does this mean? Call back now!
She turned the TV louder, aware that something was happening on the other end.
Panic, outrage, attempts to understand how their everreliable mother could act this way.
Two days later, a forceful knock at the door. Nina walked slowly to the peephole. Kirill and Olya stood there, tanned but angry. Their vacation was clearly ruined.
She opened.
Mom, have you gone mad?! Kirill shouted. What hotel? Did you see the bill? Youre trying to bankrupt us over a dog?
Hello, children, Nina replied calmly. Come in. Make yourselves at home; Ive just mopped the floors.
Her composure bewildered them more than any argument could. They entered. Kirill eyed the shredded sofa, the overturned plant.
Whats this? he jabbed a finger at the couch.
Those are the results of keeping your wellbehaved dog in my home. I called a specialist, he assessed the damage. Heres the invoice for reupholstering and a new ficus.
She slid a neatly printed sheet across the table.
Youre billing me too? Kirill sputtered. You should have supervised him!
Should I have? Ninas gaze was cold, curious, for the first time in decades.
I owe you nothing, children, just as you owe me nothing. I assume you didnt come to return my hotel deposit and cover the damages?
Olya tried to mediate.
Mom, why this? Were family. We could sort this out. Kirill overreacted; it happens.
Extremes are when a son accuses his mother of selfishness because she wont let the house become a wreck, and when a daughter says you have plenty of time to serve her brother. The bill is simply the consequence of your choices.
Kirills face flushed.
I wont pay a cent! Not for the hotel either!
Fine, Nina answered plainly. Then Im selling the dacha.
The dacha, the one theyd planned for barbecues, sauna evenings, friends getaways, now became a bargaining chip.
You have no right! Olya shouted, forgetting diplomacy. Its ours too! We grew up there!
The title is in my name, Nina shrugged. And childhood ended, Olya.
The money from the sale would cover the expenses, compensate her moral loss, and perhaps fund a trip to Spain. Zinaida had said it was wonderful there.
They stared at her, no longer at a docile, obedient mother, but at a woman with steel in her spine theyd never known existed.
For the first time in years, a heavy silence settled in the rooma uneasy acknowledgment of defeat.
A week later Kirill transferred the full amount, down to the last kopek. No apologies, no more calls.
Nina didnt wait. She retrieved an almostunused suitcase from the loft, called Zinaida.
Zina, hi. Do you still have a spot for flamenco?
