She gathered her three bags and began to head home. It wasn't long before she heard tiny footsteps crunching behind her. Joanne turned around to see Bixley standing there. His ears perked up as he sat back on his hind legs. The dog stared at her and licked his nose like, what? Why did you stop? 

“You are a stubborn one, aren't you?” Joanne sat her bags down onto the gritty, salty cement. She reached down to feel the fur around his neck. “Hmm. No tags. Who do you belong to?”

Joanne sat on the porch swing, watching the stars as Bixley scampered about in the snow. She contemplated how they would handle getting him to the veterinarian tomorrow, and Joanne was hopeful that his rightful owner would be found. 

Joanne grabbed a few old towels from the linen closet and tossed them down onto the floor in her bedroom. “This is your bed.” Joanne pointed to the pile of towels on the floor. “Stay out of mine.” 

As the truck pulled into the driveway, Carl Jr burst through the front door and ran outside to greet them. "I knew it! I knew you would keep him!” Tears were welling up in his eyes as Joanne handed Randy the leash. 

“George, why don't you stay for dinner?” Joanne asks. She tries not to blush as she climbs out of the truck. 

George grinned in agreement, “Maybe I can help you walk the dog.” They both laugh as they wander inside.