From February 27 to March 4, our village was occupied by Russian troops. Hundreds of heavy equipment came from us, Selyanska Sloboda to the village of Mykhailo Kotsubinsk. Located in our gardens, we became their cover. They settled in all summer houses and lived there. It probably saved us, the living, that they were robbing the cellars there. They also went around the houses looking for, took fat, fuel and warm things.

The first thing they destroyed, entering the village, were poles and transformers of power grids and mobile communication towers. This left us with warmth, peace, and water. I am lucky that there was an old well left in the yard and there was water there. Neighbors followed her to my house. We moved to the nearest neighbors strictly through the cities, sometimes by foot. Neighbors - most of the old woman are lonely people, she tried to help as much as possible.

Yes, I have been the owner of a kennel in the International Exhibition of Culture since 2010, Labrador, Griffon breeds. At the time of occupation, I had 3 retrievers, 1 cane corso, 11 adult griffons and 10 griffon puppies aged 3-5 months, and 2 cats. Everyone was at the stern of Monge.

The village is located 12 km from Chernigov, food was purchased for 2 weeks in advance, and in that week, February 22, I stocked up in advance only with starter for puppies.

I ran out of food for adults after a week of occupation. Then for another couple of weeks, they ate everything that was in the house and in the refrigerator, even peas and oatmeal with bugs, which they found in the bowels of the locker. And then hunger came, it's the most terrible thing when they ask for food and you have nothing to give them, and they don't understand.

I was very lucky with the psyche of my dogs, although 2 griffins are now afraid of flying planes, they run home to hide. The shelling was sometimes completely round the clock, the ground shook and everything in the house moved like a walker. It felt like the house was moving. We smashed the windows as soon as a column of tanks drove down our street. I collected mattresses and blankets, and I and the dogs lived by the stove in the boiler room. This is a small room with firewood and a boiler, if you burn the boiler, it is the only place in the house where it was warm.

I had to go to meet people. I understood well that the people themselves had nothing to eat. Potatoes were taken from many by their families in the city, but I offered money for any cereals or vegetables, some took the money, some did not. It was gaining a little. Then millet, then oats, then corn, carrots, beets. This is the soup she cooked for her dogs. Corn was pounded with a stone, oats were soaked and twisted with a meat grinder. In those moments, for some reason, all the films about the war were remembered, and the hungry brain was constantly searching for memories of what to eat when there is no food.
From such soup once a day, at first everyone vomited and cursed, after a week they ate, cursed, but ate what was available.

That's how I collected, cooked, chopped firewood, fetched ice water for myself and my old neighbor, heated it. Three weeks was a real survival, we were all left without normal food, without medicine, without normal living conditions, lost our spirit, said goodbye to our relatives and were no longer afraid of death. But I had a mission until my last breath to find food for my dogs, because they depend on me. All this pushed me to dig myself out of that corner, with dirty blankets and go... Then I got the courage and went 5 km to the neighboring village under fire, its raschits passed and did not stand there. I had hope that people there would have the opportunity to take food somewhere and they would share.

The most difficult thing for me was the night of 01.04, when in the evening I felt very sick, I was poisoned by a 3-year-old preservative. I would just lay there and pass out, waking up only to hug the bucket. I couldn't get up and turn on the stove, the dogs huddled up to me and seemed to understand, they were also lying in a heap, we are in the dark, in the cold, they are probably dying...

Even that night, those fascists were shooting so much that there was a buzz from everywhere, and at one o'clock in the morning my dog started giving birth to puppies.

These were the puppies I was waiting for so much, there were so many plans, but... the closer the birth dates were, the scarier I was, because I understood that the starter was running out, those puppies would die from that soup. And no matter how hard it was, the most terrible thoughts crept into my mind, how the little ones would be born, drown... Because the mother herself is starving, and then there will be nothing to feed... You know, I always, when sending for a caesarean section or something, told the vets that the main thing is to save first of all, the mother, and here I understood that the mother is the most important.

But that night I thought I died.

All I could do was cover her and us with a blanket and I heard the sand, felt the little ones, and tried to warm them, hugged mom and the little ones. Of the 7 born, 5 survived until the morning, then during the day one more child froze. By the evening of the second day, another neighbor came to me, she saved me, gave me an injection, and drank some kind of herb. I cried to her that I would not be able to drown the little ones, and I begged her. She then said such words that I will never forget. That she saw how I fought for them, that everyone in the village understood what a breeder and a kennel are, what responsibility is. That she would go with me to another village and help look for food for my dogs.

Fortunately for us, on 02.04 the Rashists withdrew from their positions and left our destroyed villages.

On 04.04, volunteers were able to come to me with food, who tried all that time to somehow transfer food and medicine to us, but it was impossible.

On 05.04, an acquaintance called me in hysterics that tanks are coming from Belarus again. I left those blankets and new fodder in the car, stuffed all the dogs, cats, that alarming suitcase with documents from the top, and left for Kyiv. In a panic, she didn't even close the gate, then called the neighbors, they closed it and took the things to them.

In Billia Tserkva, we were sheltered by an acquaintance who is also a breeder, we stayed there for almost 2 months, were treated... The dogs were like boards with ribs. We ate and came to our senses. At the end of May, we left for the Czech Republic, where we are to this day. Our journey is not over yet... further to my family in Israel, it is still not an easy journey.

But we survived, we overcame all that fear, pain, despair, we were not eaten or killed. That's the main thing, I consider it a miracle, we will catch up and rebuild everything. Every day is happiness to hug my living tails.