Little Boy Brings Food To Beggar & His Dog Daily, One Day Boy Sees Dog Barking On His Doorstep – Story Of The Day

A policeman’s son befriends a homeless man and his dog and brings them food every day. Then the dog appears unexpectedly and alerts him to an injustice.At twelve, Brian Devlin was small for his age, and not very athletic. His father, Gary, didn’t really understand his shy, bookish son. His son was nothing like him…
He had been a tall, strapping, boisterous boy, always up to his ears in mischief. Gary tried to build his son’s self-confidence, but the harder he tried, the more Brian seemed to pull away.

Brian was smart, that Gary couldn’t deny, and he had a scholarship at a prestigious private college on the other side of town. The boy was scared of taking a bus, but since the school was close to his work, Gary picked him up every afternoon.
Gary was a desk Sargeant at the local precinct, and by the time his work ended at 5:00 p.m., the school day was long over. In the winter, Brian waited in the library and did his homework. But in the summer, he sat on the school steps and waited for his dad, soaking up the sunshine.

One afternoon, when Gary arrived, Brian wasn’t on the steps. He was outside the school gates petting a dog. Brian looked up at his dad with a happy grin.
Don’t make assumptions about people before you know who they are.
“Look, Dad,” he cried, then he said to the dog, “Dance!”

The dog hopped up onto its back legs and did a little jig, front paws up in the air and its tongue lolling out happily.

“Isn’t that so cool?” the boy asked.

“Yes,” Gary said, surprised by the enthusiasm Brian was showing. “Whose dog is that?”

“It’s Carl’s,” Brain said, and pointed at a man sitting on the pavement and leaning back against the school fence. The man was in his forties and he was clearly homeless.

A ragged bundle of blankets lay on the ground next to him, and he was unshaven. The dog, however, was well cared for. It was a Golden Retriever, and its fur was groomed and gleaming.

The man shrank back when Gary looked at him, so he said to his son, “Come on, now, it’s time to go.”

On the way home, Gary said, “Listen, Brian, I want you to stay away from that man and his dog, OK?”

“Carl’s OK and I love Goblin!” Brian protested.

“Goblin?” Gary asked. “Is that the dog’s name? Well, I’m sure Goblins’ a good dog, but I don’t want you befriending vagrants, Brian. Do you understand?”
“But dad…” Brian protested.

“Not another word,” Gary snapped.

The next day, when Gary came to fetch Brian, the boy was studiously sitting on the steps reading a book, but that night, his wife co

mplained that half a roast chicken was missing.

“I don’t understand!” she cried. “I set it aside to make sandwiches for Brian’s lunch and now it’s gone!”

Gary looked over at Brian and the boy looked so innocent that he was immediately suspicious. Was Brian taking food to school for that vagrant and his dog?

Gary started keeping an eye on the pantry and noticed that tins of sausages kept vanishing. He now knew that his son was stealing so he could feed the dog and the homeless man every day. Gary felt a pang.

His son, who had such difficulty making human friends, had bonded with the dog. It was a pity it belonged to a vagrant, a man who might be dangerous.

Two days later, Gary got off work early and when he arrived at the school, he caught Brian outside the gates. He had a bag in his hand and he was saying: “Hey guys, I have your favorite spaghetti, Carl. And for you boy, your favorite sausages!”
“BRIAN!” he thundered. “What are you doing?”

The boy looked up at him, and for the first time, Gary saw fear in his son’s eyes. Immediately he felt a surge of anger

It was this derelict’s fault that his son was afraid of him! He stepped forward and clenched his fists. “Get away from that man,” Gary shouted. “Get into the car!”

That night, Gary and his wife sat down and talked to Brian about the dangers of befriending strange men. Brian shrugged it off. “Dad, I know about stranger danger and bad touching. Carl is NOT like that, he’s nice. You can tell he’s a good person because Goblin loves him so much, and Goblin’s the BEST, smartest dog.”

“Brian,” Gary said quietly. “I’m sure Goblin’s a great dog, but you know what? Hitler had a great dog and he loved him, and I’m sure the dog loved him back. A good dog does NOT make this vagrant a good person. Please stay away from him, Brian!”
“NO!” shouted Brian, and he pushed back his chair. “Carl is my friend and I love Goblin! Why do you always have to spoil everything? I HATE YOU!”
That night, Gary made a decision. He was going to solve this problem his own way…

That Saturday, Brian woke up early to the sound of anxious barking. He thought sleepily, “That sounds just like Goblin!”

Brain jumped out of bed and looked out of his window. It WAS Goblin, and he was standing on the porch barking anxiously and looking very unhappy.

“Goblin!” Brian cried as he opened the door, and immediately the dog ran to him. Goblin put his head in Brian’s lap and started whining. “What’s wrong, boy? Where’s Carl?”

But the dog just whined and shivered so Brian decided to do something he’d always been afraid to do before — go to his dad’s work and ask for his help.

Gary was stunned when he saw Brian at the precinct with the dog by his side. “Brian!” he gasped. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“Dad!” he cried. “I think something bad happened to Carl. Goblin came looking for me and he’s very scared…” But Goblin wasn’t looking scared, he was looking up at Brian’s dad and growling.

Brian had never heard Goblin growl before. “Dad!” he asked. “What have you done?”

Gary flushed. “Carl was loitering near a school and he was warned off twice, so we arrested him!”

“But dad!” Brain cried. “He did nothing wrong! He’s not well, he needs help…You don’t know anything about him! He’s a veteran and he was in the bomb squad and he worked with sniffer dogs to find explosives. That’s why Goblin’s so well trained. He’s a good man and you arrested him because he’s sick!”

“He’s not SICK!” Gary cried angrily. “He’s a bum!”

Brian had tears in his eyes. “No, dad,” he said softly. “He doesn’t drink or anything, and most of the time he talks to people who aren’t there. He needs help.”
Gary was ashamed of himself, mostly because he couldn’t admit that there was a part of him that was jealous of Carl and his easy friendship with his son.

He did some investigating and discovered that Carl had a sister in a neighboring state who had been looking for him for years. He contacted Carl’s sister and she was overjoyed.

She took Carl home and enrolled him in an outpatient mental health clinic immediately. Goblin went too, of course. Brian missed Carl, but mostly he missed Goblin.

Then one day his dad came home with a big grin on his face and a strange lump under his jacket. He lifted out a wriggling puppy and presented it to Brian. “There you go,” he said. “You have to name him!”

Brian started crying, he was so happy. “Goblin,” he gasped. “His name is Goblin Two!”

What can we learn from this story?

Don’t make assumptions about people before you know who they are. Gary assumed Carl was a drunk and a danger before he knew anything about him.
Kindness and compassion are the greatest of virtues. Brian’s empathy led him to befriend Carl, and he helped him find his way back home.

My Brother Covertly Took the $20K My Grandmother Left for Me Before Her Death — Karma Intervened Before I Could Confront Him

The moment I saw my brother cruising around in a shiny red convertible, I knew something was off. Little did I know, that car held the key to a betrayal I never saw coming — and a plan Gran had set in motion long before she was gone.

My name is Juniper. I’m 26 now, and I’ve been living out of state for four years. Honestly, it was the best decision I ever made: to get away from my family and from all the hurt that came with it.

It wasn’t like I ever felt a part of them. My parents had always favored my older brother, Maverick. You could say he was the golden child, but that doesn’t even cover it. Growing up, I was just… there. The “spare,” as Gran used to joke, though there was always a tenderness in her voice when she said it.

That’s part of why I left. Well, that, and Noel — my boyfriend. He convinced me it was time to live for myself, to create something outside the shadows of my family.

We packed up our little car, and I moved with him to the city, away from my parents, Maverick, and all the memories.

“Noel, I swear, I just couldn’t stay there anymore,” I had told him over dinner once. I still remember the way he’d smiled at me from across the table, his hand reaching out to grab mine.

“You don’t need to explain it to me again, June. You did the right thing,” he had reassured me, squeezing my hand. “You deserve more than being the second choice.”

Even after four years away, I barely spoke to my family. Calls came less frequently, texts became a rare formality. My parents? They didn’t seem to mind, honestly. It was like I had just faded out of their lives. The only one who stayed in touch was Gran.

She was the one person in my family who made me feel like I mattered. When I was younger, she’d sneak me chocolate bars when my mom wasn’t looking, or call me on the phone late at night just to hear how my day went.

Gran didn’t care if it was boring or if I felt like my life was a mess. She just listened.

And then, one day, I found out she died. Accidentally. No call, no message, nothing. Can you believe that? I was scrolling through Facebook, of all places, and saw a post from an old family friend. Gran’s picture. A date and a “Rest in Peace” note.

I couldn’t breathe. I stared at my phone, waiting for things to make sense, but they didn’t. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest.

I dropped my phone on the table, stood up, and muttered, “Gran’s gone.”

Noel looked up from the couch. “What? What do you mean she’s gone?”

“She died. No one even told me.” I could feel the burn of tears, but it was more than sadness; it was anger and perhaps betrayal. “How could they not tell me?”

Noel was up in a second, pulling me into a hug, but it didn’t make any sense. Why hadn’t my parents called me? Even Maverick. Nothing.

I booked a flight back home that same night.

I didn’t care what it took — I had to visit Gran’s grave. I had to say goodbye, at least on my own terms. The next morning, I found myself walking through my hometown, the place I hadn’t seen in years, the place I had fought so hard to escape. Everything was as I remembered, except one thing.

I blinked, stunned. “The… what?”
As I stood at the corner of the street near the cemetery, I spotted something that made my blood run cold. My brother, Maverick, cruising by in a shiny red convertible.

Maverick? The one who still worked as a cashier, who could barely make ends meet? He was driving a red convertible that looked like it cost more than his entire life savings.

My stomach churned. Something wasn’t right.

Later that day, I found myself standing by Gran’s grave, the soft rustle of the trees the only sound around. The earth was still fresh, and I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach. Gran was really gone. I hadn’t been able to say goodbye properly: no chance to tell her how much she meant to me.

The pain of finding out about her death through a Facebook post still stung like an open wound.

As I knelt beside the grave, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up to see Mr. Anderson, Gran’s best friend. He was a kind, older man, always hovering around Gran, helping her with anything she needed. His face was somber as he approached.

“Juniper, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, standing beside me. “Your Gran… she was a one-of-a-kind lady.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She really was. I just wish I had more time with her.”

He nodded, his eyes distant. Then, after a moment of silence, he turned to me and asked, “Did you get the $20,000 she left you?”

I blinked, stunned. “The… what?”

Mr. Anderson’s brow furrowed. “Your Gran. She mentioned in her will that she set aside $20,000 for you. I just assumed you knew.”

My heart dropped. Suddenly, the red convertible Maverick was driving made all the sense in the world. The anger that had been simmering inside me boiled over. “No,” I muttered, standing up, fists clenched at my sides. “I didn’t know.”

Mr. Anderson’s face paled. “Oh, Juniper, I’m so sorry.”

But I wasn’t listening anymore. I had to get to Maverick’s trailer. Now.

I stormed back to my car, my mind racing. Maverick, who could never hold down a steady job, was suddenly driving around in a flashy car, and I hadn’t thought twice about it? Of course, it was my money. The money Gran left me — the one person in my family who actually cared about me — and he stole it without a second thought.

When I pulled up to Maverick’s trailer, I was ready for a full-blown confrontation. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks. There, crumpled in the driveway, was the red convertible, completely wrecked. The front bumper was smashed, the windshield shattered, and the tires looked flat, like the car had been in a serious accident.

And there, standing in the doorway of his beat-up trailer, was Maverick. He was leaning on crutches, a cast covering his leg, and his face was bruised, a mess of cuts and scrapes.

Karma had already caught up with him.

I walked up to him, my anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Maverick, what the hell happened?”

He shifted uncomfortably on his crutches, his eyes darting away from mine. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” I gestured at the totaled car. “That doesn’t look like nothing. What did you do? And why did you take Gran’s money, Maverick?”

He winced, knowing he couldn’t avoid it any longer. “I didn’t mean for it to go like this, Juniper. I… I just thought I’d borrow it. I was gonna pay you back. But then I saw that car, and…”

“Borrow it?” I was incredulous. “You don’t just ‘borrow’ twenty thousand dollars that wasn’t left to you. Gran left that money for me, and you took it like it was nothing. And now look at you. This is karma, Maverick. This is what you deserve.”

Maverick opened his mouth to protest, but I wasn’t finished. “You’ve always taken everything. My parents’ attention, their affection: everything was always about you. But this? This was different. This was from Gran, the one person who actually gave a damn about me, and you stole it.”

Maverick hung his head. “I messed up, okay? I thought—”

“You thought what?” I snapped. “That I wouldn’t find out? That I didn’t deserve what Gran left me?”

He didn’t have an answer. We stood there in silence, the weight of everything hanging in the air. Then, just as I was about to turn and leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mr. Clearwater, Gran’s lawyer.

“Mr. Clearwater?” I answered, keeping my eyes on Maverick.

“Juniper, I’ve been going over your grandmother’s will,” Mr. Clearwater said. His voice was calm and steady, as though he knew I needed some reassurance. “There’s something you should know. Your grandmother predicted this might happen.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“She knew Maverick might try to take the money, so she had a plan in place. The $20,000 was only a part of her estate. The rest of it — her house, her savings, her investments — it’s all yours, Juniper. She left everything to you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Everything?”

“Yes, everything,” Mr. Clearwater confirmed. “Your grandmother was very clear. She wanted to ensure you were taken care of, so you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, but they weren’t just from sadness. Gran had known. She saw this coming, every bit of it, and she had protected me in the way only she could. Even in death, she was still looking out for me: still showing me that I mattered.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I looked at Maverick. “I hope that convertible was worth it, Maverick. I hope you enjoyed the ride.”

“Juniper, I—” he started, his voice shaky.

I held up my hand, cutting him off. “Don’t. I’m done with excuses, Maverick. Just save it.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, broken in more ways than one. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like the forgotten sibling. Gran had made sure of that.

If this story touched your heart, take a look at another exciting read: When my grandmother asked us to come to her place to celebrate her birthday, I didn’t expect my family to do what they did! Grandma was hurt by their actions, and I wasn’t willing to let my family go unpunished. So I came up with a plan that put them in their place!

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