Time to read: 17 minutes(s)

A Belgorod shelter that takes in dogs from the Russian border region and Ukraine was forced to relocate to a private home after the building was occupied by the military, making it unfit for animals. Now, the new neighbors want to force the volunteers to relocate the dogs, while the shelter wants to survive. Journalist New Tab и "NotMoscow Speaking" I went to a border village where people and animals affected by the war are trying to get along.

"Lots and lots of dogs"

The village of Grafovka in the Shebekinsky District is located approximately ten kilometers from the Ukrainian border. Volunteer Irina Kharitonova and her co-founder, Svetlana Svirskaya, are forced to run a private dog shelter called "Angel" in a house there. The shelter previously had its own building in the neighboring Belgorodsky District, but after the outbreak of full-scale war in Ukraine, they were forced to abandon it and move to Irina's private home.

So far, the village hasn't come under fire, like the neighboring village of Bezlyudovka, three and a half kilometers from Grafovka. However, the shelter's benefactors are still wary of traveling to Grafovka, where they encounter soldiers and military equipment along the road.

Grafovka is a fairly large village on a hill, with twenty streets. The main points of attraction here are several grocery stores in the center, a small church, a school, and the village administration building.

Irina's private house is located at the very beginning of the village, in a small ravine. To reach the temporary dog ​​shelter, you have to turn off the main street and walk downhill for several minutes through tall grass. Two other houses are visible from the property, but they're not very close.

Irina, a short, fair-haired woman of 45, greets me at the gate of her home. She currently cares exclusively for stray animals and lives on her mother's pension, as she has no time for other work.

When asked why she decided to open a shelter, Irina answers simply and briefly: “At my grandmother’s in Chuguev (This is the Kharkiv region. – Ed.) "There was a large two-story building where there were always a lot of homeless animals. In the summer, I would come there during the holidays and spend all my free time there with the dogs. I've always liked dogs, and now I have a lot, a lot of them."

You can hear the barking of dogs long before you reach the shelter's gate. Currently, it's home to about 160 dogs, most of whom are from the Shebekinsky District. But there are also animals from other parts of the Belgorod Region and from neighboring Ukraine.

At the entrance to Irina's property, two Alabai dogs with different fates live in two enclosures facing each other. One, a white one, is a Russian "abandoned dog," according to a volunteer. His name is Yakut. The family he lived with left Shebekino because of the war, and they left the dog behind.

"Yakut wouldn't let anyone near him," Irina says, petting the dog through the bars of his enclosure. "We couldn't get near him for a week and a half. And now he's the most gentle and kind dog. Yakut was very sick because he was abandoned. He even started peeling. I'm still working on his nails," she says, gesturing at the Alabai's large paws.

Yakut's owners never returned for him, although they planned to pick up the dog in a week and a half.

"They always promise to come back for the animals—and they never do," says Irina.

In the enclosure across the street lives a brown and white Alabai named Mishka. He arrived in Russia from Ukraine in 2022. Irina doesn't know what happened to his owners. She adopted him from the Volokonovsky district, which borders the Kharkiv region.

"When they were bombing, he came running from there, and they found him behind Volokonovka. He came to the factory, hungry, started biting everyone, and wouldn't let anyone leave work. They called us and asked us to pick him up because the animal control service hadn't come for him. We gave him some treats, walked around him for a bit, and he came with us," Irina says.

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"I raise my hand and it shakes."

The woman herself has a sister in Chuguev, Ukraine, for whose sake she once moved to Belgorod from the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, to be closer to her and see her more often.

"We used to see each other every weekend: I'd go to her place, and she'd go to mine," says Irina. "I spent my entire childhood in Chuguev. I played there, dug potatoes, and fell in love for the first time..."

Irina now barely communicates with her sister, fearing that Ukrainian intelligence services could be monitoring their conversations. A volunteer offered to let her sister move in with her, but she can't leave Ukraine because her husband is serving in the military.

"I try not to write to her now. Their neighbor was just recently arrested for communicating with Russia. If you write anything about Russia and Putin, it's immediately..." Irina says. "I ask how my sister is doing, wish her a happy holiday—and that's it. The main thing is that everyone is safe and sound."

Next to the Alabai dogs, in another enclosure, lives another dog, a victim of the fighting in Ukraine. Russian soldiers found him in a dugout in the Shebekinsky district. How he got there is unknown. The elderly, shaggy dog ​​still shakes and instinctively cowers, reacting to any movement nearby.

"We've only had him for a short time, just a couple of days. He's slightly blind, has no sense of smell, and is slightly deaf. The military called us and said there was a blind dog wandering around the dugout. He must have fallen in and couldn't get out. We don't know how long he was there, but he was definitely starving and still afraid of everything. I raise my hand, and he's shaking," Irina says, reaching out to the shaking dog as proof.

"Every time I see an unfamiliar number, I think, 'Not again.'"

The woman doesn't know whether the dog came from Ukraine or lived somewhere in a Russian border village, but she says she encounters abandoned animals from border villages much more often at the shelter, especially in the Shebekinsky district, which regularly comes under fire.

"There are a lot of these dogs, and they just keep coming. It's unclear where they're coming from or where they're going," the woman shrugs.

There are no exact figures on how many residents have left the Shebekinsky District of the Belgorod Region, but Irina believes that many are leaving. Some of them are leaving their animals behind in the shelled villages.

"We currently have about ten abandoned dogs from the border area. We've already found homes for some, but we couldn't take in others—the shelter is full. They're mostly from the Shebekinsky district. Most people are leaving there right now because there's a *** (special operation) going on there, and they can't find homes for their animals. Many people had both Alabai and German Shepherds. A lot of purebred dogs have appeared on the streets. I won't even mention the puppies, because people leaving often release their unsterilized pet dogs onto the streets. Some leave the dogs tied up, others leave and untie them, and the dogs run after them through the village, even into the city!"

According to Irina, residents of the Shebekinsky district mostly bring their pets to the shelter themselves, but sometimes they ask volunteers to come and pick them up.

"We explain that we're currently not taking dogs, that we don't have the space. Besides the fact that we're currently without a place to stay, we can't feed them all. People call almost every day asking to take someone. Whenever I see an unfamiliar number, I always think, 'No, no, no, not this, not again.' We can't even afford food right now; it's too expensive. We order meat and grains, which we use to make porridge for the dogs. But that's not a good option for the summer, because everything will go sour," Irina shares.

Stray dogs are often poisoned these days. According to a volunteer, people simply scatter poison because they don't want packs of them on the streets.

"Several dogs were released in Shebekino after the SVO began. We rescued one, but didn't have time to rescue the others. By the time we got there, they were all dead," says Irina Kharitonova. "Everyone understands that a dog is spayed and vaccinated, but that doesn't mean it's not hungry and won't attack a person."

"We even took a wolf from the border area."

Beyond the enclosures at the beginning of Irina's property is a free-range area. Most of the dogs are there, and when they see a new person, they begin to bark even louder and attack the stranger.

“I carry a broom with me to drive them away,” Irina jokes, pointing to the long mop in her hand.

About 40 dogs live in the shelter's main area, along with about ten kennels—apparently homemade. Those who were the first to occupy them sleep in them; the rest lie on the ground or scatter around the property, skirting Irina's small vegetable garden, surrounded by a low chain-link fence.

Large and small dogs, most of which are mixed breeds, have to coexist in the same area. Purebred dogs are mostly kept in enclosures in another, fenced-in part of the property. These include huskies, dachshunds, Italian greyhounds, Alabai, German shepherds, and many others.

Despite the large number of animals, all the dogs at the shelter appear well-groomed: they have clean, shiny coats and are not thin, some even appear slightly overweight. The exercise area itself is clean, odorless, and there are no visible feces on the ground. Most of the animals get along well together, but Irina occasionally has to calm dogs that might get into fights with each other.

On the left side of the site there are several more enclosures with animals, to which Irina leads me.

"This is Kulema," the woman says, pointing to a small mongrel with a rounded bald spot on her right side. "She's from Murom. She came to the military doctors in an ambulance; she lived nearby. Then, during a shelling, she was wounded by shrapnel. The soldiers nursed her back to health, but they couldn't keep her because they were leaving, so they brought her to us. There was another dog with her. She was young and had just given birth, but they couldn't save her, and she accidentally choked the puppies."

Many animals are currently being shelled in the border village of Murom in the Belgorod region. According to Irina Kharitonova, this village is currently experiencing a true humanitarian disaster, especially for animals. According to news reports, Murom has been shelled at least five times in the past two months. During one of the most recent attacks, in March, three private homes, a store, and a gas pipeline were damaged.
A state of emergency has now been declared in the village. Most residents have been evacuated or left on their own.

"A lot of people from Murom are calling right now and saying they abandoned their cats and dogs there. They're being fed now, and the animals need to be evacuated, but Murom is constantly under fire, and we have nowhere to put the animals," explains Irina.

The volunteer used to travel to Murom and pick up abandoned dogs. On one of these trips, she even took home an elderly wolf, mistaking it for a dog.

"We came to pick up the dog," the woman recalls. "He came out and stood in front of our car. I told him I wouldn't go out to see him; it was unclear why such a big dog would suddenly come out to meet people. But then we opened the car door, he jumped in, and we drove off. He slept a lot and ate a lot at the shelter. You could have grabbed him with both arms, he was so skinny."

When Irina realized she hadn't brought a dog to the shelter, she took the animal to the veterinary clinic for tests. At first, the vets thought it was a wolfdog—a cross between a wolf and a dog. But later, they determined it was, in fact, a wolf. Irina suspects the pack abandoned it when it grew old and ill. But judging by how tame it was, it likely lived with someone who could no longer keep it after the war began.

"They told me later, 'All you have left for the shelter is a bear and a fox,'" Irina smiles. "The wolf was elderly and very sick. He had kidney and liver problems, but we gave him six months to live, and then he died. The dogs didn't touch him the whole time—they must have sensed he was a wolf."

A thin dog with fawn fur, somewhat resembling a fox, approaches us.

"This is Belka," says Irina. "She joined the soldiers and lived in their trench. They were apparently later transferred, they threw her some bread and left, and she dug a hole and gave birth there."

Belka's puppies live in the adjacent enclosure. "We've already found homes for two of the little ones," the volunteer says proudly.

"Both the boys and the dogs are dying."

Even before the war, people were more likely to surrender animals to shelters than adopt them, but now things have gotten much worse. Seven dogs left the shelter in April, and according to Irina Kharitonova, this is already a good result.

"It was quiet for a long time, but now we couldn't be happier. Just in the last month, several dogs have left, including Rich, who was returned several times," says the volunteer.

Rich is a young pit bull who had been living at the shelter since the summer of 2022. He was found in Shebekino. His former owner tied the dog to a tree and left. The pit bull ended up at "Angel." He was adopted several times by new families, but was later given back due to behavioral issues and his inability to get along with other animals. Irina was even offered to euthanize the dog, but she flatly refused.

In January 2023, Rich left to "guard the Belgorod border." He was picked up by Russian soldier Alexander and four of his comrades.

"The guys saw us online, came over, and said they wanted to adopt a 'son of the regiment.' They walked around, looking for someone, then Alexander approached Rich, who jumped on him, and the man wanted to take him. The soldiers bought the dog camouflage and then sent him photos. Rich and the guys even came under fire. One of them said they all came under fire and started crawling, but Rich just kept walking. They kept shouting, 'Crawl, Rich, crawl!' but he wouldn't move," the woman recalls.

At the end of February, Rich returned to the shelter again. Irina hoped it would be temporary. Rich's owner's platoon had gone "beyond the border," to Donetsk. Irina asked followers of the shelter's social media group to pray for Alexander, but the soldier and his comrades who were looking after Rich were killed. Irina was informed of the deaths of Alexander and the other soldiers by an acquaintance of the man who had intended to take the dog but was unable to do so. Later, the volunteer received a call from Alexander's fiancée.

Irina still has photos of Rich in his pen with toys and a sleeping bag that his owner left for the pit bull so he wouldn't forget him.

"There's a photo of Rich with Alexander and four of his comrades. Everyone in the photo died. They agreed that if one of them died, they would pass Rich on to each other, but it didn't work out," says Irina Kharitonova.

After this, Rich finally managed to find a new and, Irina hopes, permanent owner. She decided not to give any more dogs to the military because "both the guys and the dogs are dying."

"People have stopped coming: they're afraid."

The shelter used to have its own building in the village of Komsomolsky, 48 kilometers from Grafovka: an old cowshed that "Angel" inherited from the "Fauna +" capture service.

In 2019, animal rights activists discovered a pit near the Fauna + shelter containing, in addition to household and construction waste, bags containing dead dogs. The animals had died of various causes: some had been mauled to death—their bodies bore telltale wounds in the groin and neck—while others showed clear signs of asphyxiation, indicating they had been strangled or poisoned. The dogs found alive at the shelter were emaciated, having received little food or water.

After animal cruelty at Fauna+ became known, criminal cases were opened against the management of the temporary shelter (they were later dropped because the police failed (find the culprit), and the barn building was handed over to volunteers. It was taken over by the "Angel" shelter.

In 2020, Irina and her co-founder, Svetlana, received contracts to trap animals in the Shebekinsky District. However, this was the only government assistance the shelter has received since its inception. In 2020, they received 7 rubles per dog, and in 2021, 9. This amount included not only the animal's capture but also vaccinations, sterilization, and a month's care. The shelter's main source of funding is donations from benefactors. Founders Irina and Svetlana also contribute to the shelter.

With the start of the special operation (***), the building in Komsomolskoye had to be abandoned. According to Irina, it became increasingly difficult for volunteers and sponsors to travel there each day, because Russian troops and their equipment had settled in the village.

"At some point, the military put up a barrier, and people simply stopped coming to us: they were afraid," the volunteer explains. "I still went there as the leader because I needed to feed the dogs and clean up after them. They let me in—they checked my documents and inspected my car. But with each passing day, the number of vehicles increased, and we realized that soon we simply wouldn't be able to go to the shelter."

"I love dogs, but that doesn't mean I'd give a penny to this shelter."

Irina moved all the dogs from the shelter to her home in Grafovka. The neighbors were hostile to the animals. They collected signatures from local residents to close the shelter and filed a police report. The shelter is currently being investigated by the prosecutor's office.

Following complaints from village residents, the local administration issued an order to release the animals. But before that, they had to be treated, spayed, and tagged. This meant the dogs had to be released into the wild using the OSVV method: "catch-sterilize-vaccinate-return to their habitat." Under this method, only aggressive dogs that pose a danger to humans are allowed to remain in the shelter for life. The remaining animals are returned to where they were captured.

"The order states that dogs must be released back to the places where they were removed after vaccination and sterilization. This is a requirement of current legislation, and we cannot deviate from it," the shelter's situation was described live on air. commented On February 13, the head of the Shebekinsky urban district, Vladimir Zhdanov.

Irina's neighbors in Grafovka told Novaya Tkabka that they don't want stray dogs allowed outside, but they're also unwilling to live next to nearly two hundred animals due to the unpleasant odor and loud barking. They're also afraid the dogs might run out into the street and bite someone in the village.

Natalya lives across the street from Irina Kharitonova. She was the one who started collecting signatures among neighbors to relocate the animals from Grafovka.

"They call us dog haters, fascists, say we're such bastards that we don't like dogs. I actually love dogs and I help shelters. When the SVO started, animals were brought from Kharkiv. Shelters all over Russia took them, and I donated money to them. But that doesn't mean I'd give a penny to this shelter," the woman says.

Natalya explains this attitude toward "Angel" by the fact that the animals are a nuisance, not only to her immediate neighbors but also to those living on the other side of the village. A school, community center, and playground are located across from the shelter, and she fears the dogs might run into them and bite the children.

She says there have been cases of animals escaping from the property and behaving aggressively. "They run out, and my family and I constantly chase them back with sticks because they run straight to the playground. Then they [Irina and her assistant] show up," Natalya says. "I'm just not sure the animals are in such good condition that they won't bite someone. They definitely attack dogs: once they ran into our yard and attacked our husky. My husband tried to fight him off with his bare hands. Thank God, the dog wasn't hurt."

Another time, she said, dogs mauled a kid goat that was tied to a fence. They also attacked chickens kept by a Grafovka resident.

It was after this incident that the locals held a general meeting, attended by the local police officer and the mayor. The neighbor whose chickens were injured filed a police report, but the outcome is unknown.

The Shebekino administration promised residents of Grafovka that their problem would be resolved when an animal shelter, construction of which began in 2021, opens in the village of Voznesenovka. The problem is that Voznesenovka is currently under regular shelling, which is why construction has been suspended. They promise to resume work when the shelling ceases, which likely means after the war ends.

Natalya believes the best solution in this situation would be to move the shelter to another location, as releasing so many dogs onto the streets is no longer feasible. She says she offered to let her neighbors take a dog from the shelter into each private home so that "Angel" would be empty, and was willing to be the first to do so, but the other villagers didn't support her. Natalya also suggested that Kharitonova sell her property in Grafovka and move to another location, farther away from people. She even allegedly offered to help Irina with this.

"No one will move anywhere while the SVO is ongoing. No one can force Kharitonova, and she won't move on her own," says another shelter neighbor, Anna.

She says the dogs' barking keeps her and her child awake, so she even "had to send my daughter to camp." Anna says she had to walk her daughter to school "with sticks," and a neighbor helped her fend off the pack outside.

When asked how everyone can get out of this situation, Anna answers briefly: “The ideal solution to this problem is that there should be no dogs here.”

800 thousand rubles to return home

Irina refuses to comply with the administration's demand to release the dogs, despite the potential for administrative or criminal liability. She claims that officials and the veterinary service have no authority to control the number of animals she keeps in her private home, and therefore cannot force her to release the dogs.

"The neighbors complained about the barking and the smell, and the administration asked me to reduce the number of animals," says Irina Kharitonova. "Of course, I won't let the dogs out anywhere. If animals live in a shelter for more than three months, they're vaccinated, sterilized, and eat regularly, they get used to it. The prosecutor's office's decision will be known within a month. I've already had one inspection: the veterinary service came here and ordered that the enclosures be enlarged."

Volunteers tried to find a new location for the shelter, and they found one – in a neighboring village on the outskirts.

"There's a lot of land there—two hectares—and a two-story building. We could even open a veterinary clinic there. Everything would have been great, if not for the 5 million rubles. We wrote letters to organizations, tried to raise the money from everyone, but we realized we couldn't raise that amount ourselves, and no one would help us," says Irina.

The "Angel" shelter is now ready to return to the village of Komsomolsky, but the building, which the military vacated, requires repairs. The former cowshed now has no wooden or metal doors or enclosures, the wires have been cut, the administrative office is destroyed, and the roof is leaking. Irina reveals this reluctantly, in a low whisper, to restore the building to its original condition.

The shelter is currently supported by a local chain of pet stores: people can donate to the homeless dogs through their outlets. People who want to help are afraid to come to Grafovka. So, three people care for the dogs: Irina, Svetlana, and their assistant, Alexander. They buy meat and grains, cook porridge, and clean the area every Saturday.

"We cook porridge until the evening, because we need about 120 liters of porridge a day to make enough for everyone. In our community, I don't even dare ask for help. My neighbors just shake their heads and say I'm sick. A neighbor recently told me I used to be a normal woman until I got involved with dogs," says Irina.

Volunteers have now raised the required 250 rubles for the down payment. Now they just need to find the remaining 550 rubles for the renovations. If everything works out, the shelter will move back to the former barn in Komsomolskoye in just a month. Irina is eagerly awaiting this moment: "Every night when I go to bed, I dream of the dogs and I finally returning home."