The bitter cold weather had forced the large red dog to curl into a tighter ball, tucking his nose under his big, muddy feet. Old Red lived outside Larry"s Barber Shop, sleeping on a small scrap of carpeting. The mongrel dog had panted through a hot summer, watching hopefully as the children came out of the small grocery store that adjoined the barber shop. Many shared their treats with him. On Valentine"s Day, someone left a handful of candy hearts on Old Red"s carpet.

　　Old Red once had a buddy - a scrawny black dog. Constant companions, they slept curled together. During a cold spell the smaller dog disappeared. Old Red mourned his friend by keeping his usually wagging tail motionless. As friends stooped to pat him, Old Red wouldn"t even look up.

　　Someone dumped a puppy out one day, and Old Red immediately adopted him. He followed the puppy around like a mother hen. During the cold nights, Old Red shared his carpet with the frisky puppy, letting him sleep against the wall. Old Red slept on the cold outside.

　　Soon that puppy disappeared too, and the old dog was alone again.

　　I would have taken him home in a minute. Any homeless dog or cat could win my instant friendship - all it took was one hopeful look. But my husband had explained time and again that we simply could not take in stray animals. I knew he was right, but sometimes my heart forgot. With great determination I tried to steel myself against looking into the eyes of any stray, hungry dog or cat. Old Red never looked hungry, though, so I decided it was all right to form a relationship with him.

　　One day I found out by accident from the barber"s wife that her husband was feeding the dog daily. "He won"t even buy cheap food," she laughed. "He buys the most expensive there is."

　　I stopped by the barber shop to tell Larry how grateful I was that he was feeding the dog. He brushed aside my thanks and insisted the dog meant nothing to him. "I"m thinking of having him taken off," Larry mumbled gruffly.