I watched this hardened veteran, a man who wouldn’t take a dime from me, slowly take his hand out of his pocket. He stroked Barnaby’s ears. Then, I saw him reach into his jacket, pull out a dry cracker—probably his only food for the day—break it in half, and give the bigger half to the dog.
“You and me, buddy,” I read his lips. “We’ve both got some continue reading …
