A little girl bought a beautiful Boston bull puppy, and she was sure she could make him happy. She gave him the most delicious warm milk and a good biscuit. She showed him his soft, comfortable basket. She promised to love him.
But the puppy wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep contentedly. He simply sat there, unhappy in a way that no amount of kindness could fix.
Because the little girl had given him a nice home. What the puppy wanted was his mother.
Hours passed, and still he didn’t eat. So the little girl made up her mind: she ordered her pony cart, settled the puppy beside her, and drove him back.
As they came near his old home and the puppy began to see familiar things, it was almost impossible to hold him. When they reached the gate, he bounded free — and he and his mother frisked and jumped over each other in a joy so fierce they nearly knocked each other over.
“I think he’d better stay home,” said the man who had sold him.
“Yes,” said the little girl. “This is where he belongs.”
