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A post below about a stray dog reminded me of this.
I was out at a river, and a dog that looked rough from a distance started approaching me. As it got closer, I could see ribs. It was approaching with a nervous manner. I spoke to it in a friendly fashion, not seeing any kind of aggression. The closer it got, the skinnier it looked. It came right up to me, sat down, leaned on my leg, and let out the most brokenhearted sigh I've ever heard. The kind of sigh that you expect to be followed by tears. I petted it and told it, "it'll be OK." It closed its eyes and just listened. After a couple of minutes, it stood back up and started walking off. I called to it and it followed me up to my car.
I opened my car door to give it my lunch and bottled water, and decided that afterwards, I'd get it into the car and then take it to the local animal shelter where even if it didn't get adopted, it would die with a full stomach and affection (the local shelter was a very good one with people who really cared). I would have taken it home if I could have afforded to take care of it. When I turned around, the dog was slipping into the woods. I tried to find it, but it was a lot better at hiding than I was finding. I never did see it again.
I gave that dog what it was looking for - a couple of minutes of kindness. It's always saddened me that I couldn't do more.
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