— He’s such a withered old runt! A useless old wreck—just unbearable! Since when have elderly people been of any use?” Nika said with a sneer.
“— And that old man in particular disgusts me! When I walk Dior, he’s always standing at the window, staring at me. A pipe in his mouth, a newspaper in his hands—like some prehistoric mammoth! He probably has no idea what an iPhone is. He just tenderly grows his little flowers—geraniums and violets, can you imagine? That’s last century! And his windows are ancient too. He gets a decent pension—he could’ve replaced them. Most likely he just blows all his money. A dried-up old runt!” Nika curled her lips mockingly.
She was saying all this to her friend Sveta, who at that moment was admiring the fresh renovation in Nika’s apartment.
Nika and her husband had recently moved into this building, buying two neighboring apartments and combining them into one large space.
Nika’s husband, Alexey, ran a furniture business and a chain of small grocery kiosks together with his father.
Nika didn’t work—she devoted herself entirely to self-care and to her Chinese Crested dog named Dior. She affectionately called him “my little baby.”
After having a good laugh at their elderly neighbor, Nika went off to show Sveta her new dresses.
Note: In situations like this, you often feel like giving a strict lecture about how unacceptable it is to disrespect older people. But as life shows, that approach can be useless.
Here is how it happened in real life.
An Unexpected Lesson from Life
One day, Nika and Alexey were getting ready to go to their dacha. Alexey pulled up in the car, talking on the phone with suppliers at the same time.
Just then, Nika’s friend called and said she had brought her a gift from Paris. Wanting to pick it up right away, Nika decided she’d get to the dacha with her friend—since the friend lived in a neighboring building and had a dacha there too.
“Lesha, go without me! I’ll get there with Nadya. Dior’s still sleeping—let him stay with you for now,” Nika said quickly and hurried off.
Alexey only nodded, still immersed in his phone calls.
Meanwhile, Dior woke up, and at the exact moment Alexey was closing the car door, the dog darted outside.
He was a tame, skittish little dog. He tried to follow his owner, but she had already disappeared from sight. Frightened, Dior hid near the entrance steps.
Not far away, a few local drunks began gathering—men who didn’t have enough money for booze.
“Hey, looks like that dog’s expensive,” said one of them, nicknamed Crutch.
“Definitely,” another replied.
“Then we should… well, nobody’s watching, the yard’s empty,” Crutch said decisively, walking toward Dior.
Three men surrounded the dog. Dior didn’t even try to run—he was genuinely terrified. Crutch reached out his hand…
At the same time, back at home, Nika was screaming. Alexey searched the car and the dacha grounds in a panic, but the dog was nowhere to be found.
“Did you see that he was asleep when we left?” Nika sobbed, smearing mascara across her face.
“Well… I think so,” Alexey answered quietly.
“What do you mean, ‘I think so’? You didn’t even check?”
“Listen, I got a call. He was definitely asleep before that, and when I got into the car I was on the phone… Maybe he jumped out by accident while I was talking?” Alexey said anxiously.
They rushed back to the city. But Dior wasn’t near the entrance.
There was an active, no-nonsense building manager, Alevtina, who remarked:
“I saw your hairless one. Not just me. Crutch and his buddies decided to sell him. I yelled at them from my balcony, but it was like shouting into the void—they were drunk and aggressive.”
“Why didn’t you help?” Alexey asked.
“And why should I be responsible for you?” Alevtina replied. “Our brave Demidych—sick as he is—went out alone and said, ‘I won’t give him up! Try and take him!’”
“Who’s this Demidych?” Alexey asked, surprised.
“That old man who lives below you,” Alevtina pointed out.
The Protector from the Next Entrance
Shaken, Nika rushed into the building to find the old man she had laughed at earlier with Sveta—calling him a “withered old runt.”
That man, Anatoly Demidovich, turned out to be the only person who stood up to protect their little Dior. Despite his weakness and frail build, he didn’t fear the confrontation.
Alexey pressed the doorbell, and the door opened. The air was filled with the smell of fresh cinnamon—inside, everything felt cozy and calm. In the doorway stood an old man in a simple flannel shirt and warm socks, his eyes half-closed, like a little gnome.
“Hello, young people! Come in, dear. Dior’s asleep in the room. I told him fairy tales until he drifted off. He was terribly frightened. Such a handsome fellow—I’ve never seen one like him before. His name… oh yes, Dior!” the old man said with a smile.
With tears in her eyes and deep gratitude, Nika held her pet in her arms. Alexey stood nearby, silent.
The place was modest: a plain metal bed with rounded finials, a knitted rug, a table with an oilcloth tablecloth, and faded curtains—yet everything was neat and cared for.
The old man fussed about, setting buns on the table and pouring tea.
“I live alone. I have a niece with a sick child—I give her almost my entire pension. But I have enough to get by. You have to help people,” Anatoly Demidovich confessed.
Nika sat there, flustered and red with shame.
A thought flashed through her mind: “I called him a ‘withered old runt,’ and he’s so kind. He even gives his money to others—and he stood up for Dior. How could he not be afraid? He’s so fragile…”
“Come visit, dear! I like seeing young people. And bring the ‘little one’ too! When I put Dior to bed, I even laid some antique lace from my grandmother’s handiwork over the blanket so he’d be more comfortable,” the grandfather shared, gently stroking the dog.
Back home, Nika sank into an armchair and cried again.
“Why are you crying? We found him!” Alexey said, puzzled.
She told him about the old man, his family, and what had happened with Dior. Alexey listened thoughtfully.
When Sveta visited Nika the next time, she glanced out into the courtyard and spotted Anatoly Demidovich.
“Oh, that’s the one… what’s he called? The withered old runt?” her friend laughed.
“Hey—you’re the withered old runt! If you say that again, I won’t invite you anymore, got it?” Nika snapped.
Sveta fell silent, offended.
Nika and Alexey helped the old man with repairs, brought him groceries, and took him with them to the dacha.
Dior grew very attached to the old man. They took him under their wing, calling him “our grandpa.” Anatoly Demidovich accepted the help shyly, convinced he hadn’t done anything special.
An important takeaway: Sometimes the people who seem unhappy and insignificant to us are capable of true generosity and strength of spirit, while shallow prejudice prevents us from seeing their real worth.
In that way, the story of Nika and her neighbors is a reminder of the need to respect the older generation—and how a single kind act can change opinions and lives.