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Snowy found out that he was now in someplace called Verona. Having a bone was helpful, because it meant he could stop and rest and chew on it whenever he needed. As he sat in the shade to avoid the heat of the midday sun, he fell asleep. When he awoke again a few minutes later, his bone was gone, and the scent of another dog was there. Letting out an annoyed growl, he gave a fierce bark, and looked around for any sign of the thief. Nothing. He sighed a doggy sigh. Nothing he could do now, but carry on. Despite the recent sleep, he was exhausted and longed for his bed, a good meal, and Tintin. The mud caked on his white fur was hard to get off, even if he did paddle in a stream. It only made him wet, cold, and even more miserable. He hardly recognised himself, so how would Tintin know it was him when he saw him? He tried rubbing against a rough tree to scrape the mud and dirt off, which helped a little. He even asked a stray cat he met to groom his fur for him, but the cat gave him one look, and turned, holding her nose and tail up, as she sauntered away.
Snowy felt alone, abandoned, and scared. He had started on his journey with confidence, and courage, an optimistic attitude, and an open mind, trotting along happily, enjoying the sights, and not feeling the need of great hurry. But now, only two or three days later, he was taking slow steps, his head hanging down, his tail drooping, and a whine escaping his mouth every so often. He wanted to hurry, but didn't have the strength, and every night, in the shelter of a tree, or a box, or a car, he would just flop on his side, exhausted and panting. In the morning, he would force himself to carry on, his tired muscles aching, and his empty stomach pestering him for food. This was why the bone had been such a blessing. If the dog thief had known of his situation, would he have had a change of heart? Snowy didn't know.
However, his spirits lifted when a young woman, maybe a teenager, saw him as she swept the front steps of her house. She took one look at this pathetic, dirty, miserable little dog, and scooped him up, and took him into her house. She washed him in soothingly warm water, relaxing his tired muscles. Soon, his pure white coat showed once more, and he already felt more like himself. She set down a bowl of water and a plate of meat. Snowy hungrily devoured the meat, and she wondered how long it had been since he had last eaten. Soon after, another woman, slightly older, came down the stairs.
"Edda," she said. "How many times have I told you not to bring animals off of the street?"
"Oh, but, Carlotta, if you had just seen him," Edda protested. "He was dirty and hungry and tired."
"Take him to the shelter," Carlotta said. Snowy gazed up at her, and barked thanks for the food. Carlotta wrinkled her nose, and trudged back upstairs.
"Forgive my sister," Edda whispered to him, stroking his now silky fur. "She will warm up to you in time." Snowy gave her a doggy smile, but inside he was upset, since it seemed this young girl wanted to keep him. He wished he could tell her he had an owner, and had to find him.
Well, Snowy thought, as he ate a good meal that evening. I suppose a few days' rest here wouldn't hurt. I could get my energy back, and then carry on. He decided this was the best plan, and that he would leave again in two days' time. If Edda knew, she would understand.
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