I noticed a starving mongrel dog following me. The poor creature was terribly thin; I could see his ribs poking through his skin. Most of his fur had fallen off. What remained clung in dry, twisted patches. The dog was beaten, cowed, deserted, frightened, a victim of Homo sapiens. I stopped and knelt, put out my hand. He backed off. Come here, fellow, I'm your friend . . . Come on, come on . . ." He came closer. He had such sad eyes. What have they done to you, boy?" He came still closer, creeping along the sidewalk, trembling, wagging his tail quite rapidly. Then he leaped at me. He was large, what was left of him. His forelegs pushed me backwards and I was flat on the sidewalk and he was licking my face, mouth, ears, forehead, everywhere. I pushed him off, got up and wiped my face. Easy now! You need something to eat! FOOD!" I reached into my bag and took out a sandwich.