It’s not like somebody was likely to adopt him. The pound was full of bright, lively puppies. Who would choose an old, gray-whiskered dog with a bad ear?

The girl balled up a second scoop, while Crystal felt an impulse growing within her.

“If I give you my name,” she said, half her brain telling her to shut up, the other half urging her on. “Will you tell the pound people I’ve got the dog?”

The girl stopped mid scoop, staring blankly at Crystal.

“I’ll take care of him until they check for relatives,” Crystal explained. How sad would it be if somebody put the dog down, then a relative showed up later? She knew the pound didn’t keep stray animals for long.

“You’re taking the dog?” the girl asked, clearly confused.

Crystal nodded. “Do you have a pen?”

The clerk seemed to remember she was in the middle of making a cone. She added the second scoop and handed the cone to Crystal. Then she pulled a pen from under the counter.

Crystal quickly jotted down her name and number on one of the Treatsy-Sweetsy napkins and handed it to the girl. “Tell them to call me if they find a relative.”

The clerk nodded bemusedly, while Crystal turned for the exit, telling herself she hadn’t lost her mind. There was nothing wrong with occasionally being a Good Samaritan.

Out on the hot sidewalk, she gingerly petted the dog. He sighed and gazed up at her, giving his tail only a cursory wag. But his round eyes closed while she scratched between his ears.

Okay. That was one question answered. It didn’t look like he’d bite her.

Carefully balancing the melting cone, she untied the rope from the shrub and coiled a few loops around her free hand.

“There we go, doggy,” she crooned. “You want to go for a car ride?”

Predictably, he didn’t answer, but stared silently up at her with an expression of benevolent patience. He seemed confused when she started to walk. But after a moment, he came willingly enough.