This was something I had to do. In light of recent events, there really wasn't anything else I could do. This came out in a ten-shot, also as my first, full Save the Homeland story. It was my first Harvest Moon game, and it's very close to my heart. Just like my own, fuzzy friend.

Thanks for reading!

We Met

Tony wasn't a rich man. No spare change jangling around in his jean pockets, no sweets in the cupboard. Just the bare essentials. His mother would bemoan how he didn't have the money for a decent haircut, letting his shaggy tresses grow long and straight, banded at the nape of his neck. He lacked the proper physique for this life he chose, too, impoverished even in muscles. He was young, gangly, fresh out of school, and all on his own.

That's why he didn't hesitate when the stray showed up on his farm.

It appeared through the trees midway through a cloudy day, the air smelling of desperately needed rain. A lone silhouette emerging through the tangled brush on the outskirts of his property. Tony's feet led him to the pasture, almost in a trance as his eyes locked on the creature. He reached the fence and tipped the brim of his cap up and folded his arms atop a sidelong post, watching from a distance as the stray dog meandered by his barn. He wondered if it was sick or worse as he watched it sniff at the old, wood siding. But it wasn't every day he got visitors in these parts. It was a rare sight, indeed.

His granddaddy's land was remote, located dead center of nowhere, past the last long road where all backwater creeks met the ocean. It was lonely being so far away from anything and anybody despite the pastoral effect. Though there were a few settlers like himself up the mountain, Tony found himself more often than not, very alone. Every little thing that the day brought was a big surprise, a special moment. And this furry vagabond was no exception.

The first time Tony called out to it, the dog high-tailed it without even looking his direction. It skittered back around the side of the barn, tail tucked under its legs and head hung low. With the way it was hobbling along, it surprised him how fast he scampered off - like he heard the shot of a gun. He felt bad for scaring it away and would often wonder about it being out in the woods all alone at night, but there really wasn't anything he could do. It was especially prominent on rainy days, the despondency weighing down on him like his wet clothes. But there it was. Just about every day, circling around his barn and field, snuffling at the dirt. Back again to inspect, trudge around, and vacantly stare at him. Tony would watch it from a careful distance, and he was free to do so until the dog noticed him staring. Then he would finish his rounds and head back into the security of the surrounding forest like the whistle blew and the patrol was over.

Tony didn't know where it came from or where it was headed, but he felt a strange kinship with the dog. It became routine, seeing him haunting his peripheral under the shadows of the trees. He wondered how old he was, as he looked quite young despite his appearance. His coat was matted and scraggly, three ribs showing along his sides tight as a drum. Eyes downcast, not really seeing as he hobbled along with a deep hunch in its shoulders. Aimless, yet still with a set path to nowhere in his padded feet.

Well, if nowhere was what he was looking for, he sure found it alright. Tony had found it, too, about a year ago. Now here they both were.

Tony began leaving his table scraps on a dish behind his barn. He couldn't stand seeing it starve itself to death, even if it seemed perfectly content to do so. Like that was the plan all along, just wasting away quietly as he orbited the farm. Almost like the dog had chosen this place to end. Sniffed the ground and thought 'yup. Here's good. This is where I'll stay.' And there he did.

The food began to disappear, and Tony thought it was the coons at night. But one evening after supper, he caught the dog waiting at the plate. It took off when it heard Tony's footfall, but the farmer's hope was renewed. He began feeding it more regularly. And slowly, steadily, the circles of the lonely dog got closer and closer, drawing in, shrinking. Bringing it closer to the farmer.

One day in particular was very hot and muggy with thick cloud cover and high humidity. Tony was waiting for it to storm, but he hadn't heard a rumble all day. He slumped against the old silo and rubbed the crick out of his neck. He pulled the zipper on his rucksack, found his ham sandwich, and took a bite for lunch. But he felt eyes on him. Not the usual baleful gazes of the cows or the beady stares of the chickens. He turned, ever so carefully, and found the soulful eyes of the stray looking back at him just a few, short paces away. Or more accurately, it was staring at his sandwich.

Tony swallowed his mouthful, measuring his movements to keep them slow and unsuspicious. He tore off a corner from the piece of ham between the bread. Biting his lip, he lightly tossed it towards the dog. It cowed away, recoiling like it had been struck. It remained quiet as Tony stayed put on the ground, keeping his attention away from the stray yet desperate to see if he'd taken it up. Then he heard the telltale smack. When he looked back, the ham was gone, and the dog was calmer, sniffing the air for more meat to fall his way.

The farmer smiled, stretching out his legs and swinging his boots together in amusement as he tore off more of his sandwich. He threw it to the dog, and it didn't hesitate to pick it up the second time. It stepped as close to Tony as he dared, just within arm's length. Tony laughed as he gave an almost indignant whine. "Hey, I gotta eat, too… Let's split it even."

Tony did as he promised and ripped the sandwich in two. He stuck his half in between his own teeth and rolled the rest over to the dog. The stray gobbled it up, not chewing it for more than three sloppy bites before it was gone. The sad, straight tail gently wagged, and it closed the distance as it sniffed for crumbs.

"Oh, you ain't shy anymore? Finally introduce yourself?" Tony teased and held his arms up out of the way as it sniffed his shirt and the suspenders holding up his dusty work pants. He was no longer suspicious of the stray just as he seemed to no longer suspect the farmer of any funny business. Tony dropped his hands to his lap, and the dog nosed his open palms, finding them empty. "See? No more. You ate it all."

The stray plopped down and took a seat beside him. Tony could hear its belly gurgle in hunger despite the taste of his sandwich he got. The dog's warm tongue licked the palm of Tony's fingerless gloves, smelling the ham that was once there. His tail swished faster behind him along the dry dirt.

Tony laid a careful hand atop the dog's head, finding the fur there surprisingly soft. His lips broke into a sad smile. "Good dog…"

He knew it then. Tony wasn't rich. But what he had found, out there in the middle of nothing, couldn't be bought anyhow. Right then… was where they would begin.