The thing that made us notice the dog was that he was sitting up, begging, in front of the stall selling cakes and biscuits.
It was the young policeman I had been talking to on market day.“I’ve got that dog, Mr. Herriot,” he said. “You know — the one that was begging in the market square.”“Oh good,” I replied, “so you managed to catch him at last.”
“There’s an hour or two’s work here, Helen,” I said to my wife. “I’m very sorry, but we won’t be able to go to the races.”“Never mind,” she replied. “We must do what we can for this fellow.”
Since he had been found by the police, he was classified as a stray and had to go into the kennels at the police station.
Various strangers came too, looking for a pet, but nobody seemed to be interested in him.