“Alone, You Say? Oh No, I Have a Huge Family! Olga, Her Furry Companions, and the Unexpected Guests …

Am I really alone? Id always reply when people asked, No, honestly, you must be joking Ive got a massive family!

For the last few years, Ive lived by myself in a little cottage right on the edge of our village. Still, whenever anyone would hint that I was on my own, Id almost want to laugh out loud:

Honestly, not at all! I have a big family!

The village ladies would smile, nodding politely, though I could see them exchanging glances behind my back, tapping their temples as if to say, Shes peculiar, that one claims to have a family but no husband, no children, just living with a crowd of animals

Yes, those very animals they are my family. And I couldn’t care less what the neighbours think. To them, livestock is only for work, maybe a sheepdog for the sheep, or a cat in the barn to keep the mice away.

I have five cats and four dogs. Not only that, they all share the house with me, not out in the sheds or yard where, according to popular wisdom, they ought to be. Thats what the neighbours like to say, anyway.

Between themselves, theyd murmur about me its pointless trying to tell mad Lizzie otherwise; shell just laugh and say:

Oh, they get enough of the outside. Were all much happier together inside, thanks very much.

Five years ago, I lost my husband and son on the same day. Theyd been on a fishing trip together, driving home on the A1, when a lorry ploughed out of nowhere and hit them head-on.

Somehow, when the shock began to dull, I realised I couldnt bear the flat, where every corner reminded me of those I lost. I just couldnt face the old routines, walking streets that felt haunted with too many memories, nor the pitying looks from kindly neighbours.

Half a year later, I sold the place and, with my cat Tilly, moved to a little cottage at the edge of a small village. I tended the garden come spring and summer; by winter, Id got a job in the local café in the nearby town.

All the animals I had now were rescued at different times and from all sorts of places: some I found begging by the station, others appeared at the café door, starving and thin, hoping for scraps.

Thats how my family gradually grew a collection of kindred spirits, many battered by life, and some as completely alone as Id once been. But my heart was big enough, and their affection and gratitude seemed to heal the empty places in us all.

Theres always enough warmth and love to go round.

As for food, well, it wasnt easy, but we managed. Mind you, I had to keep reminding myself I couldnt bring home every stray I stumbled across and was forever making promises to myself No more, thats it!

This March, after a taste of spring, winter swept back, flinging snow across the fields and sending everyone dashing home, while the night wind howled icily through the village. I was hurrying for the seven oclock bus, the last one back home, my arms weighed down with bags of shopping and bits of leftovers from the café treats for myself and my furry lot.

I kept my head down, trying not to notice every creature in my path, warming myself with thoughts of those waiting for me.

But as the saying goes, The heart has eyes of its own. As I neared the bus, I felt a tug inside and turned. There, hunched under a bench, was a dog. Her gaze locked with mine, hollow and dim, and she was half-covered with snow.

People bustled past, buried in scarves and hats, but no one seemed to notice. My heart just lurched. The bus, my bags, my own rules all forgotten in a rush. I ran over, dropped the bags, and reached out. The dog barely moved but didnt shy from my touch.

Thank heavens youre alive I breathed. Come on, love, lets get you up

She didnt resist as I carefully coaxed her out. I honestly couldnt tell you afterwards exactly how I managed to lug two heavy shopping bags and a half-frozen dog across the forecourt to the warmth of the station.

I settled in the furthest corner of the waiting room and started briskly rubbing her, one bony paw at a time, to bring her back to herself.

Come on, sweetheart, wake up we need to get home! Youll be number five, you know. Perfect balance, I told her.

I found a leftover sausage roll in my bag and held it out. At first, she ignored it, lost somewhere far away, but after a bit, maybe deciding not to give up on the world just yet, she sniffed it and wolfed it down.

After an hour, the bus had long gone, so we trudged out to the road and stuck out a hopeful thumb. I fashioned a makeshift lead from my scarf, but the dog now called Daisy just stuck to my side as we plodded along.

After barely ten minutes, to my amazement, a kind soul pulled over, and we climbed into the warm car.

Thank you so much! Dont worry, Ill keep her on my lap she wont get anything mucky, honest! I chattered away, flustered.

Im not worried, love, said the driver. Let her have the seat; shes not exactly a little thing, is she?

But Daisy would only hunch into me, trembling, and somehow did squeeze onto my lap.

Well, its warmer this way, I grinned.

He only nodded, glancing at the scarf-lead with a kind of understanding, turning the heater up as he drove. We sat quietly. I hugged Daisy, feeling her slowly relax, watching the headlights catch the frenzied, wind-whipped flakes tumbling towards us.

Now and then, the driver shot a curious glance at the woman next to him with the patchwork family. He knew, without a word, that Id picked up this dog on the way home and maybe he saw, too, that although I looked tired, I was content.

He dropped us at my gate, then even got out and helped me with the bags. So much snow had drifted against the gate, he had to give it a real shove, splintering the decrepit hinges so the gate fell right off.

Honestly, ignore that, I sighed. Been meaning to fix it for ages.

Inside, a chorus erupted barking and mewling as my lot tumbled out, all paws and fur.

You missed me, did you lot? Well, here I am! No getting rid of me. Look, everyone, new addition!

Daisy peered nervously from behind my legs. My regulars sniffed curiously at the bags still clutched by the man.

Goodness, what are we waiting for? I cried, realising myself, Come on in! If youre not scared off by our little mob, stay for a cuppa?

He popped the bags inside but shook his head:

Id better be off. Feed your family theyve been waiting for you.

The next day, just before lunch, a tapping sounded on the gate. Pulling on my coat, I went out to find yesterdays driver, toolbox in hand, fixing new hinges to the broken gate.

He looked up, grinning:

Thought I should fix what I broke last night Im Mike, by the way. And you are?

Lizzie

The animals crowded round, sniffing at yesterdays visitor as he gently stroked their heads.

Youd better get in out the cold, Lizzie. Ill be in once Im done wouldnt say no to a cup of tea. Theres a bit of cake in my car, and some treats for your crowd.

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