A block away I could see the lights of a late night convenience store. It was still open. I bought three cans of Alpo and stuffed them into my leather coat. I was wet and ugly and the clerk looked relieved as I left. The race-type exhausts on my old Harley Davidson rattled the windows in the bar as I rode back to the bar.
The barmaid opened the cans for me and said the dog' s name was Shep. She told me he was about a year old and that his owner had gone to Germany and left him on the street. He ate all three cans of dog food with an awe-inspiring singleness. of purpose. I wanted to pet him, but he smelled like death and looked even worse. "Good luck." I said. Then got on my bike and rode away.
The next day I got a job driving a dump truck for a small paving company. As I hauled a load of gravel through the center of town, I saw Shep standing on the sidewalk near the bar. I yelled to him and thought I saw his tail wag. His reaction made me feel good.
After work I bought three more cans of Alpo and a cheeseburger. My new friend and I ate dinner together on the sidewalk. He finished his first.
The next night, when I brought his food, he welcomed me with wild enthusiasm. Now and then, his malnourished legs buckled and he fell to the pavement. Other humans had deserted him and mistreated him, but now he had a friend and his appreciation was more than obvious.
I didn' t see him the next day as I hauled load after load up the main street past the bar. I wondered if someone had taken him home.
After work I parked my black Harley on the street and walked down the sidewalk looking for him. I was afraid of what I would find. He was lying on his side in an alley nearby. His tongue hung out in the dirt and only the tip of his tail moved when he saw me.
The local veterinarian was still at his office, so I borrowed a pickup truck from my employer and loaded the limp mongrel into the cab. "Is this your dog?" the vet asked after checking the pitiful specimen that lay helplessly on his examining table.
"No," I said, "he' s just a stray."
"He' s got the beginnings of distemper,"the vet said sadly, "If he doesn' t have a home, the kindest thing we can do is put him out of his misery."
I put my hand on the dog' s shoulder. His mangy tail thumped weakly against the stainless steel table. I sighed loudly. "He' s got a home." I said.
For the next three nights and two days, the dog—I named him Shep—lay on his side in my apartment. My roommate and I spent hours putting water in his mouth and trying to get him to swallow a few scrambled eggs. He couldn' t do it, but whenever I touched him, his tail wagged slightly at the very tip.
At about 10:00 a. m. on the third day, I went home to open the apartment for the telephone installer. As I stepped through the door, I was nearly flattened by a jumping, wiggling mass of euphoric mutt. Shep had recovered.
With time, the mangy starving dog that nearly died in my living room grew into an eighty-pound block of solid muscle, with a massive chest and a super thick coat of shiny black fur. Many times, when loneliness and depression have nearly gotten the best of me, Shep has returned my favor by showering me with his unbridled friendship until I had no choice but to smile and trade my melancholy for a fast game of fetch-the-stick.
When I look back, I can see that Shep and I met at the low point of both of our lives. But we aren' t lonely drifters anymore. I' d say we' ve both come home.
冰冷的倾盆大雨冲刷着小城酒吧前面的柏油马路。与往常一样，我孤零零地坐在那里，凝望着雨中的昏暗。穿过积满雨水的马路就是小城的公园，那里有5英亩的草坪，还有巨大的榆树，今晚，又增添了一片到脚踝那么高的冰冷雨水。
我在那间破旧的酒吧里停留了半个小时，一口一口地品着酒。我沉思的目光终于停留在100英尺以外的一个绿色的水坑里的一团东西上。有10分钟的时间，我一直穿过落满雨水的窗户向外看，我想看看那究竟是一只动物还是一堆被雨打湿的没有生命的东西。
前一天晚上，一只看上去很像德国牧羊犬的狗来到酒吧里讨土豆片吃。他的身上长满了疥癣，肚子饿得咕咕叫，从大小来看，和那团湿乎乎的东西很相像。我心想，这只狗为什么会冒着寒冷的雨水躺在冰冷的水坑里呢？很显然，或者他不是一只狗，要是狗的话，他一定是虚弱得没有力气站起来了。
榴弹在我的右肩留下的伤口隐隐作痛，一直延伸到手指。我不想冒着暴风雨走出去。再加上他不属于我，也不属于任何人。他只是一只流浪狗，在一个寒冷的夜晚独自漂泊的狗。然而我感觉自己和他的处境相同，我把剩下的酒一口喝光，起身向门外走去。
他在3英寸深的水里躺着。我碰了碰他，他却一动不动。我感觉他已经死了。我用双手抓着他的胸部，将他扶了起来。他摇摇晃晃地站在水里，耷拉着的脑袋仿佛是吊在他的脖子上的重物。他的半边身体全是疥癣，耷拉着的耳朵简直就像长满烂疮的、没有毛的两片肉。
“跟我来。” 我对他说道，但愿我不用抱着他长满疮的身体去寻找避雨的地方。他摇了摇尾巴，拖着虚弱的身体，迈着沉重的脚步跟在我的身后。我带着他走到酒吧的吧台旁边，他在冰凉的水泥地上躺了下来，闭上了眼睛。
我看到隔着一个街区的一家便利店还亮着灯，尚未关门。我买了三罐狗粮，把它们全部塞进皮衣口袋。我浑身湿透了，样子丑陋，在我离开的时候，售货员仿佛松了口气。我骑上我的哈雷·戴维森摩托车回到酒吧，酒吧的玻璃窗被赛车用的排气管震得咔哒直响。
酒吧女招待替我把罐头打开，并告诉我这只狗叫谢普，大概一岁左右，他的主人去德国了，他就被扔到了街上。那只狗专心致志地吃光了所有狗粮。我想摸摸他，然而他的身上散发出死狗的恶臭味，模样更是令人恐惧。“祝你好运。”我对他说道，接着跨上摩托车走了。
第二天，我找到一份工作——为一家小筑路公司开卸料卡车。正当我拉着一车砾石穿过小城中心时，我看到谢普站在离酒吧很近的人行道上。我对着他大叫，仿佛看到他摇了摇尾巴。我为他的反应感到高兴。
下班后，我又买了三罐狗粮和一块奶酪汉堡包。我和我的“新朋友”在人行道上共进晚餐，他先吃完了自己的那份。
第二天晚上，当我给他带来食物时，他用极大的热情欢迎我。因为缺乏营养，他的腿支撑不住身体而不时地跌倒在地上。别人抛弃了他，虐待他，然而如今他有了朋友，他对我的感激难以言表。
第三天，我拉着一辆车子沿着主干道途经酒吧时，却没有看见那只狗。我猜测或许有人将他带回家了。
下班之后，我把我的那辆黑色摩托车停在街上，沿着人行道寻找他。我害怕我找到的谢普不知会变成什么模样。在附近的小巷里，他身体的一侧倒在地上，舌头被尘土淹没了，他看到我时只动了一下尾巴尖。
当地的兽医尚未下班，因此我从雇主那里借来了客货两用车，将这只瘸拐的狗装进驾驶室。在为躺在桌子上有气无力、令人心生怜爱的狗检查完之后，兽医问道：“这是你的狗吗？”
“不是，”我回答说，“他是只野狗。”
“他已经开始出现犬热病的症状了，”兽医忧伤地说，“假如他没有家，最好的办法就是结束他的生命，让他摆脱痛苦。”