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Katya and her husband lived in a one room cinder-block hut in the middle of their small-holding, without electricity or indoor plumbing, when folk began abandoning dogs along the road. They took them in. When her husband died, Katya had nothing, and 100 dogs to care for.

She never gave up. And G-d intervened: a wealthy woman heard of her and organised some help. Now she and her 130 dogs (give or take, depending on the day) live together in a crowded, muddy, noisy yard and hut with four primitive rooms, a toilet, electricity, several cobbled together kennels, separate areas for puppies and for the sick and old. Food and supplies are donated, volunteers assist and, although it smells like sh*t and is never clean, it is a thousand times better than it was. And all her dogs worship her, from the oldest street dog to the youngest pup.

It is impossible not to love Katya. Sick or well, she is there, smiling at her friends, yelling at the dogs, carrying bags bigger and heavier than she is, inviting you to see the latest improvement crafted by a local unemployed carpenter, dreaming of having a garden someday...