Gomer stepped out of the Bluebird Café and adjusted his cap. For a moment, he stood awkwardly in the middle of the sidewalk, trying to decide if he wanted to catch that movie after all or just head back to the base to keep reading the copy of the Mayberry Gazette he'd gotten earlier that day. While he tossed his options around, a commotion across the street caught his eye. Two men were struggling to load a raggedy brown dog into the back of a van. The dog, with two ropes around its neck, thrashed and strained against the men. Without looking, Gomer hurried across the street, ignoring the screeching of brakes all around him.
"Wait, fellers!" he yelled, "what are you doin'?" The taller of the two men scowled at him.
"What does it look like we're doing, pal? Giving this mutt a citation?"
"You fellers aren't takin' that there dog to the pound, are you?" Gomer asked.
"No," scoffed the shorter man, "We're taking it to Pamela's Pet Spa for a doggie vacation. Of course, we're taking it to the pound!"
"But you can't take this poor critter to the pound."
"Why not? Who'd want a mangey mutt like this?"
Gomer started at the stern voice of the dogcatchers.
"Shame on you for talkin' that way about a poor, defenseless dog. Why, there must be hundreds of folks who'd want a dog as purty as that one."
"Folks like yourself?" asked the first dogcatcher.
"Well, I don't know…"
"Look, buddy, we've got work to do. Now, do you want the dog or not? If you do, that'll be five dollars."
"Five dollars?"
Gomer took a long look at the dog, which had flopped to the ground panting in exhaustion. The dog gazed up at him with its almond eyes and whimpered, thumping its tail once on the asphalt. Gomer nodded.
"I'll take it."
Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out four one-dollar bills and a handful of coins. The first dogcatcher snatched it from his hand.
"Great. Turn him loose, Larry."
The second dogcatcher yanked the ropes off the dog's neck. Without another word, the two of them climbed in their truck and sped off. Gomer crouched down to pat the dog on the head.
"Now, I hope you learned your lesson," he chided, "You ought to go right on home and stay away from those mean ol' dogcatchers, 'cause I won't be there next time to help you."
The dog flopped over on its side so he could rub its stomach.
"You sure are a friendly one. What would be a good name for you?"
Gomer puzzled on this for a moment.
"I know! How 'bout Grady? After all, you look just like my second cousin, Grady, back home. Well, I'll see you. So long, Grady."
Giving the dog one last rub behind the ears, he stood up and headed for the nearest bus station, since the movie was no longer an option. As he walked away, the dog jumped up and started to follow him.
"No, Grady, don't foller me," Gomer said, "I can't help you. You ought to find some nice family to live with. One that'll give you a nice yard to run about in and plenty of kids to play with. I can't give you nothin' like that."
While he was talking, a bus rolled into the station just down the block. Gomer jumped to his feet.
"I've got to go, Grady. You behave yourself, now."
With that, he hurried down the block to catch the bus.
Half an hour later, Gomer ambled in the barracks to find his friend Duke Slater admiring himself in the mirror.
"Goin' out someplace, Duke?" Duke smirked at him from the mirror.
"You bet I am, buddy. In less than an hour, I'll be meeting with the most gorgeous chick that's ever walked the planet."
Gomer grinned back at him.
"Well, I'm sure glad to hear that. I bet in no time at all, you'll have love knockin' on your heart."
Duke raised his finger in reply but was interrupted by a scratching at the back door.
"I wonder what that could be," Duke mused.
Gomer hurried across the barracks and swung the door open to find the same little dog he'd left in town.
"Why it's Grady!" he said.
Duke peered over his shoulder.
"It's a dog! Gomer, what's that dog doing here?"
Grady wagged his tail so hard his whole body trembled. His tongue lolled out so far it nearly brushed the ground. Gomer crouched down to rub the dog's head while he explained.
"I found this dog in town and helped him get loose from some dogcatchers. I told 'im to go on home, but he must've follered me back here."
Duke groaned.
"Gomer, haven't you learned your lesson already? You've brought a cat on this base, a skunk, a horse, a rabbit, and now you've brought this mutt? You know we can't have pets here. Carter'll kill you if he sees it."
"Oh, it won't be a problem. I just have to find a good home for this little feller since he doesn't seem to have one."
"Find a home for him? Gomer, who'd want a dog as ugly as that?"
"Ugly? Why he ain't ugly. Grady's the most beautiful dog I've ever met. And he's friendly, too. Why I'll bet there's hundreds of folks who'd want a dog like this."
"Suit yourself, Gome. But he'd better be gone before Carter finds him."
Gomer sighed.
"I reckon so. Hey, Duke, could you help…"
"Sorry, Gomer. I've gotta leave in a couple minutes. Besides, I don't want any part of this. The Sarge's been antsy enough today as it is and I'd wanna be the last person to stir him up today."
Without another word, Duke hurried past them towards the gate. Gomer scratched the dog on the back and shook his head.
"Grady, we've gotta get you out of here. You can get me in all sorts of trouble with the sergeant."
He stood up and pointed a finger at the dog.
"Now, you stay right here while I find somethin' to tie you down with."
He stepped back in the barracks and ruffled through his locker. A minute later, Sergeant Carter marched through the front door.
"Where's Masters?" he gruffed.
Gomer gulped and glanced at the dog sitting just outside the open door.
"Uh…um…I thank he's over at the P-ex."
"Right," said Carter, marching out as quickly as he'd come.
Gomer breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out a thin rope.
"I know this ain't much," he said, securing the rope around the dog's neck, "but it'll be enough to hold you for now. Come on, Grady. I know one of the sergeants over in Company A who may want a good lookin' dog like you. Let's go pay him a visit."
Meanwhile, Carter paused on his march halfway between the duty hut and the barracks. The image of an ugly mutt crossed his mind. Without thinking twice, he whipped around and ran around behind the barracks. Gomer started to lead the dog off towards Company A, but a furious voice called him to a halt.
"PYLE!"
Gomer froze in his tracks as Sergeant Carter swung around the corner and ran up to them until the two Marines were nose-to-nose. Carter didn't have to say a word as Gomer already knew what this was about, but he did anyway.
"Pyle, how could you be so stupid? After all the times you've brought an animal in here and caused disaster you still had to bring a mutt on the base!"
"Well, I didn't mean to bring Grady here, Sergeant. I just found him in town and he follered me to the base."
"Grady? You even named it?"
"Why, yes, Sergeant. I called 'im Grady on account of he looks just like my second cousin, Grady back home. You see he…"
"Knock it off! Pyle, you listen to me. You walk this mutt right out that gate and tell him to get lost, you hear?"
"But Sergeant, I couldn't…"
"No buts, Pyle. This is not the time to have stray dogs loose on the base. Now when I get back here, I want that dog out!"
"But Sergeant, I…"
"You heard me! OUT!"
With that, Carter spun on his heel and stormed towards the duty hut. Gomer shook his head.
"You see that, Grady? I'm already in trouble with the sergeant on account of you."
He bent down to scratch the dog on the head, only to find an empty leash.
"Grady?" he gulped, briefly glancing in every direction.
The dog was high-tailing towards the duty hut with part of the shredded leash in his mouth.