27/09/2026
A few days ago, there was a post in one of the pet groups looking for a home for a 14-year-old Samoyed. His owner had passed away.
The comments were enough to make you sick. Tough, disgusting, angry, bitter creatures hiding behind a screen. Typing away on their keyboards, curses, insults, wisdom from their tiny minds, advice. “Didn’t he have neighbours who could take care of the dog?” “Didn’t he have family?” “Did he live in civilization, or was he isolated somewhere with nobody to take the dog?”
Everything. Anything. Except practical help.
And then came the sob stories: “He’s old.” “He’ll die of grief.” “He’ll die from stress.” “He’ll die from this or that…”
Let me tell you something, from someone who has a little more experience than those of you who have never stepped outside the comfort of your own homes or sacrificed anything to save a life.
An old dog wants peace. It wants tranquillity. It wants food, water, and a safe place to sleep.
Having an old dog is a privilege.
Quiet energy. Gratitude. Slowness.
The fact that many people don’t want to take in an old dog because of potential health problems and the shorter life expectancy after adoption is another matter. Just remember that there are chronically ill young dogs too. And young dogs who die from different incurable diseases.
In my opinion, there is nothing more noble than taking in an old dog, saving it, giving it a home, and allowing it to have peace and comfort in its old age. Regardless of how long it will live.
Over the years, we have taken in many very old dogs. And they have lived and continue to live, much longer than anyone expected.
They live.
And they enjoy life.
Luna and Kala, mother and daughter, French Bulldogs. Kala was 15, Luna was 12 when they came to us. Kala lived for another year and something before dying from metastatic tumours. She had also been on epilepsy medication her entire life.
Luna, of course, is still alive. She is now 15. Half-blind, half-deaf, sleeping most of the day, sunbathing when the weather is nice, and getting angry if you don’t let her eat first.
Grandpa Yoda had spent his entire life in a yard. A 3-kilogram Pekingese, living outside through both freezing cold and scorching heat. At 14, half-blind and hard of hearing, he got lost.
We took him in. His owners didn’t want him back because, apparently, he had gone away to die, not because he had simply gotten lost.
He had testicular tumours. He was operated on and then lived two beautiful years with us.
We celebrated his birthdays with a whole sweet buffet, music, little cakes, birthday hats, party blowers and balloons.
He died at 16, after his kidneys and liver almost simultaneously failed.
Sugar Granny, the one-eyed little Pekingese. Her owners left her at the door of Laika after being told that a 17-year-old dog could not be accepted into a public shelter, where she would have almost no chance of being adopted, and where she couldn’t live confined in a kennel.
So they solved the problem.
They threw her out when nobody was looking.
We took her in almost three years ago. She is now nearly 20 years old.
Completely blind. Completely deaf. Demented.
She walks in circles constantly. She barks with her head tilted upwards. She argues with herself.
But she eats. She drinks. She sleeps. She pees. She poops.
All her vital functions are still there.
She loves having her little ears scratched constantly.
She’s going to live forever.
She doesn’t know she’s old. She doesn’t want to die.
And she doesn’t have to.
Let her carry on. Here, she has everything she needs.
Adon was 12 when we took him in because his owners could no longer keep him.
We didn’t judge them. We took him.
Adon is a Maltese, and he has a genetic predisposition to being an absolute idiot if he doesn’t like you.
He doesn’t like me.
He likes biting me.
For the first year after we took him in, he attacked me every single week , on Sundays, when I was home. Adon would attack me.
I had some serious injuries from his strong teeth and powerful jaw.
Every time he vomited, we ran bloodwork and biochemistry.
He is probably the dog who has been taken to the vet the most, with the best results.
Everything is always fine.
But Adon has a habit of wandering around the yard and stuffing into his mouth whatever random thing he decides he absolutely must eat at that particular moment.
Adon is 16 now.
Last year, I took him in for a dental cleaning. I jokingly told the veterinarian, “Take out whatever needs to come out of his mouth. This dog has eaten me alive.”
After the procedure, the vet laughed and told me:
“This dog is going to bite you for a very, very long time. All of his teeth are healthy. There is absolutely no reason to remove any of them.”
Tea is a female Miniature Pinscher. A complete lunatic.
She bites me too. She absolutely destroys me.
And it’s not just me. She has a very short fuse, and every dog that gets too close to her is immediately introduced to her jaw.
God forbid you touch one of her nails.
You’re done.
Thea was 10 when we took her in. She is 12 now.
She has diabetes, as well as other health problems that we have successfully managed in order to give her the longest and best life possible.
Despite her difficult personality, Thea absolutely enjoys herself sitting on top of a table, on a bench, always at the highest possible point, so she can observe the ordinary mortal dogs from above.
Sparky is also a Pinscher. He is 16.
His owner died, and her daughter threw him out.
He slept outside, wrapped in his grandmother’s blanket.
It was heartbreaking.
The post had an enormous number of negative comments, but the only people who actually offered practical help were us.
And then we had to deal with comments like:
“Leave him in the yard he knows. At least let him die there.”
“He’ll die of sadness.”
“He’ll die from stress.”
“He’ll die from fu***ng who-knows-what.”
He didn’t die.
And we even had him neutered at 16 because he was peeing on beds and walls.
His personality is exceptionally selfish.
He wants to be the only one getting cuddles.
He wants to be the one covered with the blanket.
He wants to sleep on the pillow.
He wants to eat first.
When he’s sitting somewhere, he gets annoyed if another dog even tries to come near him.
He is absolutely hilarious.
Deaf as a post. Almost completely blind. He can still see some shadows, so he makes these little circular movements with his head, like an owl, trying to focus.
So, dear people:
Less judgement. More practical help.
Curses and cruel words will not help an animal in that moment.
Disrupt your comfort a little.
Give up a small part of your home for an old dog.
You will be surprised by how much beautiful energy and how much love they carry inside them.
And almost always, they will try to behave like young dogs, as if they are trying to make up for all the years they lost living in bad conditions.
