**A Faithful Friend Betrayed**
That autumn, drivers passing along the motorway began noticing a dog standing motionless by the exit to a village. Day after day, it stayed in the same spot. At first, it stood tall, then after a week, it satweak with hunger, watching every car go by. Eventually, it lay down, barely mustering the strength to lift its head.
Locals started stopping to feed the stray. From a distance, the mutt resembled a German Shepherd, save for its fluffy tail curled playfully over its back. It greeted its benefactors politely but kept its distance, wolfing down every scrap before returning to its vigil. Only leaving briefly out of necessity.
A boy named Oliver, who lived nearby, took the dogs plight to heart. Every day, hed come to comfort the poor creaturea male, which he named Faithful. Hed explain, gently, that its owner likely wasnt coming back, urging the dog to come home with him.
Faithful would tilt his head, listening but keeping his distance. Slowly, trust grew. Soon, they sat together by the roadside, watching the cars rush past.
Autumn faded, winter creeping in with biting frost. Olivers father built an insulated kennel by the country lane, complete with a covered platform to shield the food bowls from rain and snow. Faithful appreciated the shelter but always returned to his post.
Blizzards soon buried the road, the fields, even the kennel under deep drifts. Oliver and his father would dig out the entrance after each snowfall, the shelter now a snow cave with a trench leading back to the tarmac. And still, Faithful would eat, then trudge to the empty road, staring into the distance.
But winters end. This one did, too. The snow melted, the earth dried. Birds sang, butterflies flitted. The motorway buzzed again as holidaymakers returned.
One day, Oliver arrived as usual. They played, even ran a little before resting on the wooden platform, basking in the sun.
Suddenly, Faithful tensed. He bolted toward a dark car turning onto the lane.
The Honda screeched to a halt. A stocky man in his thirties stumbled out, cursing, and swung at the dog. But Faithful yelped, leaping to lick his face, then danced around him before planting his paws on the mans chest.
The man shoved him away, then froze. “Bloody hell, Maryits Hunter! Thought hed kicked the bucket ages ago. Tough little bugger!”
“Mister,” Oliver called, jogging over, “is he yours?”
“Was. Bought what I thought was a pedigree Shepherdturned out to be some mongrel with a curly tail. Couldnt take *that* home, matesd take the mick. Left him here last autumn. He chased the car till this spot, then gave up.”
“Hes been waiting for you six months. Never left.”
“Blimey. Didnt think dogs did that.” The man ruffled Faithfuls neck. The dog whined, pawing at him, pressing close. “Anyway, got a proper East European Shepherd now, papers and all. Wanna see?” He dashed to the car, hauling out a lanky pup. “Look at these pawsgonna be massive! Proper beast!”
Faithfuls ears drooped. He backed away, sitting with a whimper.
“Sorry, mate, cant take two. Didnt think youd still be here,” the man muttered, avoiding Faithfuls eyes. “Youll manage.” He shoved the pup back inside, revved the engine, and sped off.
Faithful gave chase, then stopped, watching the taillights vanish. Head low, he trudged back to the kennel.
Oliver followed, wiping his cheeks. “Dont cry, Faithful. Hes not worth it. Not all people are like thatjust got unlucky with him.” He hugged the dog, stroking his muzzle. “Why mourn that bloke? Youve got me! Were pals, yeah? *Ill* be your owner. Promise Ill never leave. Come home with me?”
He stood, beckoning. Faithful hesitated, then followed, pausing uncertainly. His eyes asked, *Will you lie too?*
“Come on. Youll be happy with us,” Oliver murmured.
Finally, Faithful bounded after him.
That evening, they explored the garden together. After supper, they sat on the porch. The dog licked Olivers hands as the boy whispered, “Youre the best doghandsome, clever. Dont believe that traitor. Youre not a mongrel. There *is* a breed for youthe best one. Its called *faithful friend*.”
**Lesson learned:** Some hearts are too loyal for the hands that discard them. But real love? It stays.
