One Friday it was 'raining buckets' when my sister left work. So's not to get stuck on I-75, she decided to take the country back roads home.
As she reached a corner to make a turn, there, sitting in front of a huge rock, sat an old collie soaked to the bone. Her heart got the best of her. She opens her door and says, "Are you lost?" He gladly jumps in onto her car's white interior.
Once home, she puts him in the laundry room and heads to the pet store; dry and canned food, shampoo, brush and a collar and leash so she can take him out without him taking off.
Next comes several baths, brushings, and the meticulous snipping of any mats her salon conditioner couldn't remove. Then clean the car, the laundry room and wash towels. Saturday she buys a staple gun, makes copies of a flyer and posts them around where she found the dog.
She gets a call from an elderly farmer and the reunion brought tears to her eyes as her heart swelled with pride for the good deed she had done.
The dog jumps in the old gent's truck and as they are about to leave he again thanks my sister saying the old farm dog has never looked better, then adds, "Strange thing is, in all the years I've had ol' Bo, he's never gone past that big rock on the corner of our property."
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