Life with Kosmita (also adopted) and our elderly cat Myzia was peaceful and full of love.

I grew up with dogs and cats – never from breeders, always those in need.

So it was no surprise that my home eventually became a home for rescued animals.

 

But I wasn’t planning on adopting a second dog.

I was aware of the cost, the time, the emotional load.

I had an old cat who wouldn’t easily accept change.

Life with two spoiled pets was already full.

Until one day… it wasn’t.

 

 

In March 2016, I came across a Facebook post from “Schnauzers in Need” – about a 12-year-old blind mini schnauzer surrendered to the Kraków shelter.

The reason?

"No time."

How do you give up a friend after 12 years? I couldn’t understand it.

 

I shared her photo. I asked friends. I hoped someone would adopt her.

 

But days passed. And Emi was still there.

I couldn’t sleep. For three nights, I fought my own heart.

Logic told me no.

My heart screamed yes.

 

I saw her – curled into a wall, so small and lost – and I broke.

 

 

I spoke with Monika from the schnauzer group, with friends, with myself.

Four amazing women called me every day, saying,

“You can do this. She belongs with you.”

 

I didn’t have it all figured out. But I knew:

If I bring her home, she stays. Forever.

 

So I took Kosmita and we drove to the shelter.

We signed the papers.

And I brought home this tiny 5-kilogram girl.

 

For the first few days, Emi slept and ate. That’s it.

She’d wedge herself into corners, pressing her back against the wall.

It was the only way she felt safe.

Whatever her last home had been, it was still home to her – the only one she’d ever known.

 

She grieved.

And I grieved for her.

 

At first, she growled at the cat. She sniffed obsessively, snarled, bared her teeth.

 

Her food choices were… well, awful.

Hot dogs. Bread with butter. Raw meat.

She ate everything off the street – including cigarette butts.

She rejected vegetables, rice, pasta – anything remotely healthy.

 

But that was the past.

 

Today, Emi is a different dog.

 

She’s still got her signature look – wide-eyed and full of curiosity, like she’s asking:

“What are you humans up to now?”

 

She growls less, rarely bares teeth, and mostly leaves the cat alone.

She knows the word “no.” She knows when she’s being praised.

She’s stubborn – very schnauzer – but she’s learned the rules of this new life.

 

She eats vegetables now. Eggs. Cottage cheese. She’s left cigarette butts behind and prefers grass.

She’s affectionate beyond words. And somehow, she’s become a calming force for our younger dog – especially during storms or fireworks.

 

I used to be afraid to adopt a senior dog.

I worried about introducing her to a 4-year-old pup, about my old cat, about money, about time.

 

But now?

 

Every day with Emi is a gift.

 

She brought new emotions, new rhythms.

And yes, the beginning was hard. But watching her bloom – it’s pure joy.

She opens up more with every passing day.

 

She gives kisses.

Guards me fiercely during nighttime walks – all 5 kilograms of her turn into a lion if someone gets too close.

She knows the apartment by heart.

Climbs stairs like a pro.

Knows where the cat hides – and waits patiently nearby.

 

 

She has a serious surgery ahead of her.

And I know it won’t be easy.

 

I know the pain of losing her will be great.

Because I’ve come to love her so very deeply.

 

But it was worth it.

To pour love into her small grey heart, day after day.

To give her a new family, a second chance.

And to know that she no longer remembers the shelter.

She no longer misses what she lost.

She has us now. And we have her.

 

It’s been almost six months.

A short time, perhaps.

But I can’t imagine life without her.

 

Adopting a blind, elderly dog was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

 

We may not have years ahead.

But it’s not about how long we have – it’s about what we do with it.

Some moments are more precious than years.

 

We try to multiply those good moments.

We go on walks.

She lies in the grass, listens to birds, sniffs the wind.

She rides with us to parks, woods, even dog parks – where the young ones run and play while Emi relaxes on her blanket, listening to the world go by.

 

 

 

Please don’t be afraid to adopt senior or disabled dogs.

Emi is the second senior dog to find a home under my roof.

And she won’t be the last.

 

Because anything can happen – even to a young dog.

But old dogs love just as fiercely. Sometimes more.

 

So next time you visit a shelter –

don’t look past the grey faces.

They might just be the ones who’ll love you the most.