Puppies for Sale

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell, so he made up a sign advertising his four puppies and went out to nail the sale board on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on the leg of his trousers. He looked down into the eyes of a little boy.

“Mister,” he said, “ I would like to buy one of your puppies.”

“Well,” replied the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat from his brow, “these puppies come from fine parents and they will cost a good deal of money.”

The little fellow dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket and pulled out a handful of loose change and held it up to the farmer.

“I’ve got thirty nine cents sir, is that enough to take a look?”

“Sure is young man.” With that he turned towards his yard and took the little boy over to a wire-netting fence and gave a whistle. “Here Dolly!” he called. Out of the elevated doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly, followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the wire netting fence, his eyes fastened with delight onto those four little treasures.

As they all ran over to the fence, the little boy caught some movement out the corner of his eye up in the doghouse. Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid, then in a somewhat awkward manner, it hobbled towards the others, doing its best to catch up.

Oh, sir, that wee puppy is the one I would choose if I could possibly get one and afford it. The farmer knelt down beside his new-found little friend and said, “Son, you don’t want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other ones will.”

“With that, the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In so doing, he revealed a steel brace running down each side of his leg, attaching itself to a specially made shoe.

Looking back up at the farmer, he said, “You see sir, I don’t run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands when he is slower than all the other dogs and all the other people that run faster. I will be there with him and we can both run together as we can.
The farmer was deeply touched, thought for a while and a tear came into his eyes. He reached down and picked up that little ball of awkward fur. Holding it carefully, he handed it to the little boy.

“How much sir?” he asked. “No charge,” answered the farmer. “There is no charge for genuine love.”