**The Faithful Hound of a Traitor**
That autumn, drivers passing along the motorway noticed 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 sat, and laterweakened by hungerit lay down, watching each passing car with tired eyes.
Locals began stopping to feed the stray. From a distance, the mongrel resembled a German Shepherd, if not for its bushy tail, curled playfully over its back. It tolerated the kindness of strangers but kept its distance, though it ate ravenously, never leaving a scrap. It only left its post for brief moments when necessary.
The one who took the dogs plight most to heart was a teenager named Oliver, who lived in the village. Every day, he came to comfort the poor creaturea male dog he named Faithful. Oliver reasoned that something must have happened to the owner, gently urging the dog to come home with him.
Tilting its head, Faithful listened warily but refused companionship. Slowly, though, they became friends, sitting together by the roadside, watching the cars speed past.
Autumn faded, and winter crept in with biting frost. At Olivers request, his father built an insulated kennel by the country lane, complete with a sheltered platform to keep the food dry. The dog appreciated the shelter but still returned to the road once warmed.
Soon, blizzards buried the road, the fields, and the kennel under thick snow. After each storm, Oliver and his father would dig out the entrance. Now, the kennel was more like a cave, with a trench leading back to the road. And still, Faithful would eat, then return to the empty road, staring into the distance.
But all winters end, and so did this one. The snow melted, the earth dried, and birdsong filled the air. The motorway stirred to life again as holidaymakers returned to the countryside.
One day, Oliver came as usual. They played, even ran a little before resting on the wooden platform, basking in the suns warmth. Suddenly, Faithful tensed, springing up and bolting toward a black car turning onto the lane.
The Honda screeched to a halt. A stocky man in his thirties burst out, cursing, and swung at the dogbut Faithful yelped, jumping excitedly, trying to lick him. When that failed, he pranced around, then planted his paws on the mans chest.
The man shoved him away, then gasped. “Bloody hell, Mandyits Hunter! Thought hed kicked the bucket ages ago. Tough little bugger!”
“Mister, is this your dog?” Oliver asked, catching up.
“Was. Paid for a Shepherd, got this mutt with a curly tail instead. If Id brought him home, my mates wouldve laughed me out of town. So I 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, never thought dogs did that,” the man ruffled Faithfuls neck. The dog whined, pawing at him, pressing closer. “Anyway, I got a proper East European Shepherd now, papers and all. Wanna see?” He ducked into the car, hauling out a leggy pup. “Look at those pawsgonna be massive! Proper beast!”
Faithful wilted. He stepped back, sitting with a sorrowful gaze, sighing.
“Sorry, mate, cant take two,” the man muttered, avoiding his eyes. “Youve managed fine without me. Youll be alright.”
He hurriedly shoved the pup back inside, revved the engine, and sped off. Faithful tore after the car, then stopped, watching the taillights fade. Head low, he trudged back toward the kennel.
Oliver followed, wiping tears. “Faithful, dont cry. Hes not worth it. Not all people are like thatyou just got a bad owner.” He hugged the dog, stroking its face. “Dont grieve. Youve got me now, yeah? Were friends. Ill never leave you. Come home with me?”
He stood, beckoning. Faithful hesitated, then followed, pausing uncertainly. His eyes seemed to ask, *”You wont betray me too?”*
“Come on, itll be good, I promise,” Oliver said.
Finally trusting, Faithful bounded after him. They entered the yard together. After showing him around and feeding him, Oliver sat with the dog on the porch.
Gratefully, Faithful licked his hands as Oliver murmured, “Youre the best dogthe cleverest, the handsomest. Dont listen to that traitor. Youre not a mongrel. There *is* a breed like youthe rarest and finest. Know what its called? A *faithful friend*.”
