A policeman’s son befriends a homeless man and his dog and brings them food every day. Then the dog appears unexpectedly and alerts him to an injustice.At twelve, Brian Devlin was small for his age, and not very athletic. His father, Gary, didn’t really understand his shy, bookish son. His son was nothing like him…
He had been a tall, strapping, boisterous boy, always up to his ears in mischief. Gary tried to build his son’s self-confidence, but the harder he tried, the more Brian seemed to pull away.
Brian was smart, that Gary couldn’t deny, and he had a scholarship at a prestigious private college on the other side of town. The boy was scared of taking a bus, but since the school was close to his work, Gary picked him up every afternoon.
Gary was a desk Sargeant at the local precinct, and by the time his work ended at 5:00 p.m., the school day was long over. In the winter, Brian waited in the library and did his homework. But in the summer, he sat on the school steps and waited for his dad, soaking up the sunshine.
One afternoon, when Gary arrived, Brian wasn’t on the steps. He was outside the school gates petting a dog. Brian looked up at his dad with a happy grin.
Don’t make assumptions about people before you know who they are.
“Look, Dad,” he cried, then he said to the dog, “Dance!”
The dog hopped up onto its back legs and did a little jig, front paws up in the air and its tongue lolling out happily.
“Isn’t that so cool?” the boy asked.
“Yes,” Gary said, surprised by the enthusiasm Brian was showing. “Whose dog is that?”
“It’s Carl’s,” Brain said, and pointed at a man sitting on the pavement and leaning back against the school fence. The man was in his forties and he was clearly homeless.
A ragged bundle of blankets lay on the ground next to him, and he was unshaven. The dog, however, was well cared for. It was a Golden Retriever, and its fur was groomed and gleaming.
The man shrank back when Gary looked at him, so he said to his son, “Come on, now, it’s time to go.”
On the way home, Gary said, “Listen, Brian, I want you to stay away from that man and his dog, OK?”
“Carl’s OK and I love Goblin!” Brian protested.
“Goblin?” Gary asked. “Is that the dog’s name? Well, I’m sure Goblins’ a good dog, but I don’t want you befriending vagrants, Brian. Do you understand?”
“But dad…” Brian protested.
“Not another word,” Gary snapped.
The next day, when Gary came to fetch Brian, the boy was studiously sitting on the steps reading a book, but that night, his wife co
mplained that half a roast chicken was missing.
“I don’t understand!” she cried. “I set it aside to make sandwiches for Brian’s lunch and now it’s gone!”
Gary looked over at Brian and the boy looked so innocent that he was immediately suspicious. Was Brian taking food to school for that vagrant and his dog?
Gary started keeping an eye on the pantry and noticed that tins of sausages kept vanishing. He now knew that his son was stealing so he could feed the dog and the homeless man every day. Gary felt a pang.
His son, who had such difficulty making human friends, had bonded with the dog. It was a pity it belonged to a vagrant, a man who might be dangerous.
Two days later, Gary got off work early and when he arrived at the school, he caught Brian outside the gates. He had a bag in his hand and he was saying: “Hey guys, I have your favorite spaghetti, Carl. And for you boy, your favorite sausages!”
“BRIAN!” he thundered. “What are you doing?”
The boy looked up at him, and for the first time, Gary saw fear in his son’s eyes. Immediately he felt a surge of anger
It was this derelict’s fault that his son was afraid of him! He stepped forward and clenched his fists. “Get away from that man,” Gary shouted. “Get into the car!”
That night, Gary and his wife sat down and talked to Brian about the dangers of befriending strange men. Brian shrugged it off. “Dad, I know about stranger danger and bad touching. Carl is NOT like that, he’s nice. You can tell he’s a good person because Goblin loves him so much, and Goblin’s the BEST, smartest dog.”
“Brian,” Gary said quietly. “I’m sure Goblin’s a great dog, but you know what? Hitler had a great dog and he loved him, and I’m sure the dog loved him back. A good dog does NOT make this vagrant a good person. Please stay away from him, Brian!”
“NO!” shouted Brian, and he pushed back his chair. “Carl is my friend and I love Goblin! Why do you always have to spoil everything? I HATE YOU!”
That night, Gary made a decision. He was going to solve this problem his own way…
That Saturday, Brian woke up early to the sound of anxious barking. He thought sleepily, “That sounds just like Goblin!”
Brain jumped out of bed and looked out of his window. It WAS Goblin, and he was standing on the porch barking anxiously and looking very unhappy.
“Goblin!” Brian cried as he opened the door, and immediately the dog ran to him. Goblin put his head in Brian’s lap and started whining. “What’s wrong, boy? Where’s Carl?”
But the dog just whined and shivered so Brian decided to do something he’d always been afraid to do before — go to his dad’s work and ask for his help.
Gary was stunned when he saw Brian at the precinct with the dog by his side. “Brian!” he gasped. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“Dad!” he cried. “I think something bad happened to Carl. Goblin came looking for me and he’s very scared…” But Goblin wasn’t looking scared, he was looking up at Brian’s dad and growling.
Brian had never heard Goblin growl before. “Dad!” he asked. “What have you done?”
Gary flushed. “Carl was loitering near a school and he was warned off twice, so we arrested him!”
“But dad!” Brain cried. “He did nothing wrong! He’s not well, he needs help…You don’t know anything about him! He’s a veteran and he was in the bomb squad and he worked with sniffer dogs to find explosives. That’s why Goblin’s so well trained. He’s a good man and you arrested him because he’s sick!”
“He’s not SICK!” Gary cried angrily. “He’s a bum!”
Brian had tears in his eyes. “No, dad,” he said softly. “He doesn’t drink or anything, and most of the time he talks to people who aren’t there. He needs help.”
Gary was ashamed of himself, mostly because he couldn’t admit that there was a part of him that was jealous of Carl and his easy friendship with his son.
He did some investigating and discovered that Carl had a sister in a neighboring state who had been looking for him for years. He contacted Carl’s sister and she was overjoyed.
She took Carl home and enrolled him in an outpatient mental health clinic immediately. Goblin went too, of course. Brian missed Carl, but mostly he missed Goblin.
Then one day his dad came home with a big grin on his face and a strange lump under his jacket. He lifted out a wriggling puppy and presented it to Brian. “There you go,” he said. “You have to name him!”
Brian started crying, he was so happy. “Goblin,” he gasped. “His name is Goblin Two!”
What can we learn from this story?
Don’t make assumptions about people before you know who they are. Gary assumed Carl was a drunk and a danger before he knew anything about him.
Kindness and compassion are the greatest of virtues. Brian’s empathy led him to befriend Carl, and he helped him find his way back home.
Little Girl Stopped Me on the Street and Said, ‘Your Picture Is in My Mom’s Wallet!’ – When I Saw Her Mom, I Was Speechless
While jogging through a quaint seaside town, I was stopped by an insistent little girl who claimed, “Your picture is in my mom’s wallet!” Curious and uneasy, I followed her to a charming house. When her mother appeared, I was shocked speechless!
The ocean breeze hit differently here, away from the urgency I was used to back in Silicon Valley.
A man staring out at the ocean | Source: Midjourney
I’d forgotten what it felt like to breathe without checking my phone every few seconds. My sister had practically pushed me onto the plane, insisting I needed this break from running my tech empire.
She’d insisted the beautiful beaches, great surfing, and lack of crowds made it the perfect place to relax. Looking back now, I wonder if she knew what she was setting in motion.
I’d been in this small coastal town for three days, and while its charm was undeniable — all weathered boardwalks and salt-sprayed storefronts — I felt like a fish out of water.
A man walking down the street in a coastal town | Source: Midjourney
The locals moved at their peaceful rhythm, while I still vibrated with the energy of quarterly reports and board meetings. Even my temporary rental cottage, with its shabby-chic furniture and views of the sunset, felt like someone else’s life I was trying on for size.
That morning, I decided to burn off some of this restless energy with a run through the quiet streets.
The fog was just lifting, and the early sun painted everything in soft gold. My expensive running shoes felt out of place on these worn sidewalks, just like I did.
A man jogging down a street | Source: Midjourney
A few early risers nodded hello as they walked their dogs or opened their shops. Their easy smiles made me realize how long it had been since I’d exchanged simple pleasantries with strangers.
“Mister, wait! Mister! I know you!”
I froze mid-stride, my heart suddenly racing faster than my run had caused. A little girl, maybe eight years old, was running toward me, her wild curls bouncing with each step.
An excited girl running down a misty street | Source: Midjourney
Before I could process what was happening, her small hand grabbed mine.
“Mister, come with me! To my mom! Come on!”
I gently but firmly pulled my hand away, alarm bells ringing in my head. “Wait, little one. What’s your name? And how do you know me?”
She looked up at me with eyes so earnest it almost hurt. “My name’s Miranda! Your picture is in my mom’s wallet! I see it all the time!”
A girl smiling up at someone | Source: Midjourney
Her words hit me like a physical blow. My picture? In her mom’s wallet? I took a step back, my mind racing through possibilities.
“Miranda, that’s… that’s impossible. I don’t know anyone here.”
“Yes, you do! You know my mom!”
She reached for my hand again, but I kept it safely at my side. The morning sun caught her features just right, and something about her profile tugged at my memory, but I couldn’t place it.
A man on a misty street | Source: Midjourney
“Listen, I can’t just follow a child I don’t know. Who’s your mom? And why would she have my picture?”
“Julia! My mom’s name is Julia!” She bounced on her toes, practically vibrating with excitement. “She looks at your picture sometimes when she thinks I’m not watching. She gets all quiet after.”
Julia? I searched my memory, but the name only brought up vague recollections of business meetings and casual introductions. Nothing significant enough to warrant having my photo in anyone’s wallet.
Yet something about this child’s certainty made me hesitate to just walk away.
An insistent young girl speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“Come on, come on!” Miranda tried to grab my hand again, but I shook my head.
“I’ll walk with you, but no hand-holding, okay? I don’t want anyone thinking I’m up to no good.”
She nodded, accepting this compromise, and skipped ahead of me, looking back every few steps to ensure I was following.
We walked down a street lined with mature oak trees, their branches creating dappled shadows on the sidewalk. Finally, we reached a modest house with white shutters and a garden full of bright flowers.
A modest house surrounded by a garden filled with flowers | Source: Midjourney
Miranda bounded up the steps and threw open the door, disappearing inside.
“Mom! Mom! He’s here! He’s here! The man from your wallet! He’s here!”
I stood awkwardly in the hallway, wondering if I should leave before this got even more bizarre. But then Miranda reappeared, practically dragging a woman behind her.
The woman froze when she saw me. Her hand flew to her mouth, and tears immediately welled in her eyes.
A woman standing in a hallway with one hand over her mouth | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t recognize her at first, not until she lowered her hand, and eight years of buried memories came crashing back.
“What? How is this possible?” I whispered. “Meredith? Is that you?”
“Nobody’s called me that in years,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
The world tilted on its axis as I looked between her and Miranda.
A woman with a shocked expression standing in an entrance hallway | Source: Midjourney
The same wild curls, the same determined set to their jaws. My throat went dry as understanding began to dawn.
“You left, remember?” Julia’s words came out sharp and bitter. “That day at the café. You told me you didn’t want to be with someone who only cared about your money.”
The memory hit me like a punch to the gut. My sister had shown me documents — fabricated documents, I now realized — claiming Julia had a history of pursuing wealthy men, and that she had debts she was trying to pay off.
An astonished man standing in an entrance hallway | Source: Midjourney
I had believed it all without question, too caught up in my fears of being used to see what was right in front of me.
“You never even let me speak,” Julia continued, tears streaming down her face. “You accused me of chasing after rich men and told me your sister showed you documents detailing my debts. I never had any debts.”
She paused then and looked down at Miranda, her voice softening. “I knew that if I told you about the baby, it would only confirm your sister’s lies about me. And I couldn’t do that because I truly loved you. And… I have my pride.”
A woman leaning against a wall while her daughter stands on something behind her | Source: Midjourney
Miranda stood between us, her small hand clutching her mother’s, looking confused by the tension she’d created. My daughter!
The thought hit me with such force that I had to lean against the wall for support. All these years of building my company, of chasing success, and I’d had a child I didn’t even know about.
“Why ‘Julia’?” I managed to ask, trying to make sense of anything in this moment. “Why did you go by Meredith back then?”
A man leaning forward slightly while speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“Meredith was my middle name. I used it that year because I’d just lost my grandmother. She was also called Meredith. I thought you knew that. But I guess there were a lot of things you didn’t know about me. You were always so busy…”
Everything clicked into place with devastating clarity. My sister’s manipulation, her pushing me to date her best friend after Meredith and I broke up, the convenient “evidence” of Julia’s gold-digging ways.
I’d been such a fool, so wrapped up in my ambitions and fears that I’d missed what really mattered.
A man astounded by a realization | Source: Midjourney
“I was wrong,” I said, my voice cracking. “About everything. I believed lies, and I let them ruin us. But now… now I want to make it right.”
Julia’s laugh was hollow. “How do you make up for eight years? For a child growing up without a father? For all the school plays and violin recitals and birthday parties you missed?”
“I can’t,” I admitted, feeling the weight of every missed moment. “But I can be here from this moment forward, if you’ll let me. For Miranda. For both of you.”
A man speaking earnestly to a woman | Source: Midjourney
Miranda’s eyes lit up at this, but Julia’s expression remained guarded.
“Words are easy,” she said. “Especially for a man who makes his living selling dreams to investors.”
“Then let me prove it with actions,” I insisted. “I’ll move here. Take a step back from the company. Whatever it takes. I’ve spent so long building something I thought was important, but standing here now, I realize I was building the wrong thing all along.”
A man looking stricken | Source: Midjourney
“Daddy?” Miranda’s voice was small but hopeful, and it shattered what was left of my heart. That one word held so much: all the years I’d missed, all the possibilities ahead.
Julia’s shoulders slumped slightly. “We can try,” she said finally. “But slowly. And at the first sign that you’re going to disappear again…”
“I won’t,” I promised. “I’ve spent eight years chasing success, thinking it would fill this empty space inside me. But standing here, looking at both of you… I finally understand what matters.”
A man appealing to someone | Source: Midjourney
Miranda launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. After a moment’s hesitation, I hugged her back.
Julia’s expression was still cautious, but there was something else there too — a tiny spark of hope that matched the one growing in my own heart.
The morning sun had burned away the last of the fog, and the sea breeze carried the sound of distant waves and seabirds. Through the open door, I could hear wind chimes singing their gentle song.
Wind chimes hanging on a porch | Source: Midjourney
My sister had been right about one thing — I had needed this break from my normal life. But instead of just finding rest, I’d found something I hadn’t even known I was missing: a chance to reclaim the family I’d almost lost forever.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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