He was a big shaggy old thing, walking along the street with these sad, inquisitive eyes. I looked around for his owner but nobody would claim him. "C'mere buddy," I said, and he loped over. He was wearing a collar with a name tag: Marco, and an address. I recognized the street, just a few blocks away. "Well, Marco," I said, "I guess you're lost." He offered up a shaggy paw. If at that moment he'd asked me for a smoke, I wouldn't have been surprised. I took him by the Asian tailor shop. "You have a string I can use for a leash?" I asked the owner. "You want string? said the woman, looking at Marco, "string no good." She reached over and handed me a long red ribbon. I tied the ribbon thru Marco's collar and we started walking. "My van is in the shop," I said, "or we'd have a ride." Marco didn't answer. When we got to an alleyway he tugged at the ribbon. I followed him straight to a yard where a home-made wooden gate stood open. The number painted on the gate matched the address on the collar. I A car pulled up the breezeway and a guy got out. He had the same sad inquisitive expression as Marco. "Ah," he said, "you found him!" "Yep," I said, "he's fine." "Well thanks," said the man, "you need a ride somewhere?" "No," I said, "I'm good." The owner loosened the red ribbon, and Marco flopped down on the grass. Just a big old dog. Like me.