Jane was only eight years old, but she knew what dying meant. Her Buddy was dying, she knew it.

Buddy was Jane’s dog, a border collie, and he’d been around since before she was even born. He’d always been there, with his beautiful smile, and his funny eyes had watched her grow up. His eyes, one brown and one silver grey, had always looked on her with love. You can tell by the eyes.

Now, he was very, very old, and she saw knew he was dying, and prepared herself for it in her eight-year old way. The day came, it was May first, and she went out to the porch to say good morning to Buddy, and he looked at her sadly, and didn’t smile. She knew, and he knew. You can tell by the eyes.

Jane’s Daddy took Buddy away, and Jane was alone. She would take it in a grown-up way and get over it. After all, she was eight now.

As the weeks went by, Jane’s Daddy watched her, worried. She just wasn’t the same, the spark had gone, and, although she did everything that she had to, he could see that she was crying inside. You can tell by the eyes.

Then he saw the card in the grocery store window:

“Giveaway to good home, border collie male puppy”

Jane’s Daddy drove to the address, and a young guy showed him a litter of pups in a cage, all trying to climb the wire.

“It’s only that one there, on the left,” said the guy.

“How come only that one?”

“The others I can get good money, for. That one’s got something wrong with his eyes, I can’t sell him. You can take him now, he’s old enough, born on the first of May, they were.”

Jane’s Daddy reached in and picked up the puppy. The puppy licked his cheek.

He looked at the little round face, and then the eyes – one brown, one silver grey. He thanked the man and sat the puppy in his lap as he drove home to Jane. Everything was going to be all right. You can tell by the eyes.

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