She didn’t think much of it… until the next day.
It happened again on Tuesday. This time, she had just left the bakery with a paper bag of warm rolls when Benny spotted her across the street. He bounded over, tail swinging like a pendulum, clearly remembering her.
Laughing, she reached into her tote and pulled out a few sausages she’d brought just in case. “Look who’s back! I brought something for you.”
He took them—but, just like before, he didn’t eat them. He turned and began walking, almost urgently.
Something about his behavior made her pause.
On Wednesday, Annie came prepared. She filled a plastic container with fresh chicken and tucked it into her purse before heading out.
Sure enough, there was Benny—sitting near the hardware store, waiting patiently. This time, when she handed him the chicken, she didn’t let him out of her sight.
She followed.
Benny didn’t seem to mind. He looked back occasionally, as if to make sure she was still there, then kept trotting ahead. His fur swayed gently as he led her through an alley, past the bakery, and finally… to the storm drain.
He dropped the chicken.
Right into the grate.
Annie gasped. “What are you doing?”
