Anka (Анка)

Mixed Breed · Male · Senior · 14 years

Anka's shelter story began over 12 years ago. Then, she arrived at the animal shelter with eight other dogs along with their owner. They all lived in a one-room apartment without an outdoor run. This was a real dog family: a mom, a dad, and their grown-up puppies, which had long since grown into adult dogs. Only two of the older dogs ventured outside, while the rest knew the world only within the confines of the apartment. Anka's story was also quite unusual. At first, she was called Indian. But with so many dogs, the run where the entire family lived at the animal shelter was called Ani's run, in honor of their owner, Anna. One day, Indian scaled the fence to a neighboring run. But he never strayed far from his family, constantly circling around Ani's. When they searched for him, everyone would ask, "How is Ani's? Haven't they caught Ani's yet?" Gradually, the name Indian was lost, and Anka took its place. When it became clear that the dog responded to this name, I decided that the name Anka, with an emphasis on the 'a', was more fitting for a boy. Over these years, we've shared a lot. Once, Anka was a very wild dog. In fact, so were almost all the dogs from that apartment. They were afraid of people, didn't trust them, and lived in their own little world. One day, Anka fell seriously ill. What exactly was wrong with him, the doctors couldn't determine. He literally faded away before our eyes. Exhausted and disheartened, he barely reacted to what was happening around him. The doctors then honestly said that the chances were practically nil. I still remember that day. Back then, I barely knew anything. I couldn't properly administer injections, and I had no experience in treating seriously ill animals. I simply did everything I could. I boiled rice broth, steeped chamomile and flax, tried to somehow nourish him, and administered subcutaneous saline. At some point, I simply fell asleep next to him in the kitchen of the animal shelter. In the morning, I woke up and saw that Anka was standing by the sink. He had hidden there and was looking at me. He was afraid of me, and I was afraid of him. And we sat there together, looking at each other. That's when something changed between us. Anka began to recover. And since then, we've practically never been apart. Twelve years have passed, but he's still here. He's not just a dog from the animal shelter. He's a friend who has shared a huge part of my life. That's why I don't want his story to end like the stories of too many old shelter dogs. For him to be the last thing he sees in his life should not be the walls of the animal shelter. I very much want Anka to have a home. A home of his own. A place with people who will love him not for his age, his beauty, or his breed, but simply because he is.

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