Valentina slammed the washing machine door shut with a bang. The sound of metal echoed through the small two-room apartment. She muttered through clenched teeth: “He didn’t even take the dog with him. Just left the bills and this burden.”

Zenith, a large German Shepherd with a tightly fastened collar on his powerful neck, lifted his head from the sofa. His yellow eyes stared right at Valentina. Her husband called it devotion. To her, the gaze seemed full of reproach. “Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbled. “You’re his dog, not mine.”

“Mom, don’t be mad at Zenith,” a quiet little voice said. Sitting on the rug was Katya, curly-haired, wearing a hand-me-down red sweater. She was holding the dog’s tail like a rope, but Zenith didn’t move. “I told you, don’t pull him, he’s not a toy.” “He loves me,” Katya answered seriously. “He always lets me and helps me.” Valentina gave a bitter chuckle: “Helps? Your ‘helper’ didn’t help when your father left. Didn’t help with the rent, with the groceries. He just eats enough for two.” Katya frowned, offended: “He’s my best friend.” And Zenith seemed to sense the tension. He moved closer, his powerful body shielding the girl from the edge of the table where a glass cup stood precariously. His chest pressed against her back, like a shield. Valentina scoffed: “Exactly. Always in the way.” “No, Mom,” Katya giggled, stroking his flank. “He helps. Look.”

Dog Supplies She nudged a block, and it rolled under the sofa. The girl reached for it, but her arms were too short. “Mom, it rolled away!” Valentina was about to help, but Zenith gently nudged the block out with his paw toward his daughter. “See, Mom? He helped!” Valentina’s heart tightened. It seemed that every movement of his was not an accident, but genuine care. She remembered the nights he brought Katya a blanket when she cried, or returned a mug if she knocked it over. “He’s just seeking attention,” she internally dismissed. Katya hugged Zenith around the neck: Supplies for… “Good boy.” The dog pressed against the girl, his gaze meeting Valentina’s eyes—serious, attentive, as if he understood her every word. “Don’t act smart. You’re just a dog,” she burst out, “you won’t fix anything.” “Mom, don’t yell at him!” For the first time, Katya stood up in defense of someone other than her mother. Valentina’s heart ached at those words. A bang echoed on the radiators—the neighbor from upstairs shouted: “Keep it down!” “Mind your own business!” she snapped back, turning her attention to the dog again. “Everyone hates you, you’ll only bring trouble.”

Books for… Zenith didn’t move. He nudged a toy teacup toward his daughter. Katya clapped her hands. Valentina wanted to say it was nothing, but the realization came too late: her husband left, but the dog stayed. And now she understood—there was something more to it. A few minutes later, Katya was sitting on the sofa with a plush bear that Zenith had never let anyone else touch. And now he had brought it to the girl himself. “Thank you, Zenith,” Katya whispered, lightly touching his nose with her lips. “Katya, don’t!” Valentina cried out. But it was too late. And then Zenith did something that made Valentina freeze: he lowered his massive head and gently pressed his forehead to the child’s face. Calmly. Confidently. “Mom, did you see?” Katya whispered. “He kissed me back!” Valentina’s heart pounded. This was more than just canine loyalty. It was a real bond. The neighbor banged the radiator again, but she no longer heard it. Only her daughter and the dog remained in the room—the faithful guardian of their little world. Katya whispered: “I love you, Zenith.” Dog Supplies Valentina sat down on the sofa, tears flowing on their own: “He should have taken you with him… But maybe he left you for her sake.” “Mom, he’s ours now,” Katya smiled. And that night, for the first time in many months, Valentina felt a genuine sense of safety.