The picture was old and faded. It was in black and white, a memory from decades ago. But it had been kept in perfect condition, fitted and displayed in a glass frame, where no dust could harm it.
The boy was young and agile. He was lively, with a bright smile and shining blue eyes. His hair was dark brown, and he was strong, but not muscular. He looked excited, as if he'd just received a marvelous present. Which he had.
In his arms was a springy black, white, and tan mutt. It was small enough to fit in his palms, probably just a few months old. The pup was in pathetic condition, its fur coarse and rumpled, whiskers crinkled. But the dog's eyes were brilliant, even in the black and white one could tell that those eyes were the reason the boy was so proud of the dog.
They stood in front of a small farmhouse. The same house where the photo was kept.
A man stood with his dog, both gazing at the picture. The dog was large, up to the man's waist, it's fur mostly gray and brown. Its whiskers drooped, but it had the same gleaming eyes as the dog in the picture.
That picture was taken when Jeremy was a boy. He remembered how he was young and happy. He remembered how much this dog had changed his life.