Housewife.

What do you imagine when you hear this word? Probably a woman whose daily routine hardly adheres to the recommendations of blonde influencers, lives off coffee, has an eternal careless bun on her head, tired eyes and Lego pieces digging into her feet. Well, that option also existed.

However, you weren't that type of housewife. Because there were no children in your and Simon's house. At least, not the usual two-legged toddlers painting walls in an attempt to express themselves.

No, that's not why you left your job. You did it for something that the two of you loved madly.

It all started with Riley. The dog is a veteran who served for several years at the base, and which Simon got before he met you. The German Shepherd was friendly and not very energetic, she liked to lie on the couch and sleep, burrowing into Simon's side when he was watching football.

Then you brought the puppies, which you found in a box, discarded on the street. The little ones were too young to survive on the streets, and you and Simon took them out and then put them in good hands. And then everything went on.

"This Jack Russell needs a foster home."

"We gonna pick up that greyhound tomorrow, aren't we?"

"The vet said that the Dolmatians weren't fully fed in their previous home."

You started sheltering dogs that needed help. Those whose owners abandoned them and took them to shelters, where they could not always receive the care and attention they deserved. That's why you and Simon did everything in your power – treated them, vaccinated them, fed them, and prepared them for life in a new home where dogs would be welcome.

That's why you were a housewife. You were responsible for many dogs (an average of seven to ten) who got used to the comfort they needed.

"I'm home!" Simon said, coming home and closing the door behind him.

His bag immediately fell to the floor, and he breathed a sigh of relief, happy to finally be home after a long shift. And, of course, happy to come to you.

"Hi." You popped out from around the corner and came closer to him, immediately giving him a welcoming kiss.

Then you both heard the familiar clatter of a happy dog's tail on the floor and turned around. Bertha, your most shy dog, the dachshund that you took away before euthanizing, was finally beginning to show the first signs of trust and joy in your direction. The dog was holding her muzzle lower, but her sparkling eyes were looking at Simon, and her tail was wagging with joy.

"C'mere." Simon took the balaclava off his face and, kneeling down, gently patted his thigh. "Good girl."

You loved dogs. It was a love that strengthened your own.