In my neighborhood, two houses down from where I stayed in my friend's house, a woman also took care of street dogs feeding them every late afternoon. She kept some in her house and one of them, a seemingly very old fellow, was always lying in front of her door steps. Every time I was passing by he was growling at me and never showed interest in other dogs. He obviously was suffering from an accident since his front legs seemed to be broken once. Therefore walking, even short distances, was difficult and tiresome for him.
About two months after I met Doggy the neighbor moved out, taking her dogs with her but left the old fellow behind. When he realized that she would not come back he started howling in grief for hours on end. Finally I talked to him and for the first time he didn't growl at me but looked up at me and wagged his tail. He obviously was in need of a new master. Since Doggy was a very friendly dog, she also took pity at him and Old Man, that's how I called him, was grateful for her sympathy.
That time I took Doggy and Paula every night out for a walk around the block. After a few days Old Man joined us, hobbling behind me while Doggy and Paula were chasing down the alley.
A couple of weeks later a big black male ridge-back entered the area and was right from our first encounter very friendly and easy going. Very soon he joined us on our regular evening stroll around the neighborhood, never engaging into any confrontation with other dogs until Blacky showed up, obviously with the same intention as Rowdy, the ridge-back, to find out whether the area was a place to stay.
Rowdy and Blacky were both of the same size and powerful built. And as nice Rowdy's personality was, as bad seemed to be Blacky's character. After a few days of nasty fighting between them Rowdy quit the field and never came back. I was not happy about the new situation since Blacky was showing his dominance to all other dogs at the area and none of the residents liked him, me included. But that didn't hinder Blacky to take Rowdy's place joining us on our strolls around the block. It goes without saying that I also fed him and as we went along I started to like him. After a while I even managed to teach him not to snatch at food I was giving to the other dogs.
After Paula's death and when Old Man gave up catching up with the pace of Blacky and Doggy, I really enjoyed walking both of them since they got along very well and Blacky tried hard to behave.
After a couple of months a new dog entered the area and found a place on one of the residents doorsteps. It was a brown white spotted bitch with a gentle expression, I called her Babe. When I touched her I realized that her skin was scabbed over and full of ticks. I tried to remove as many as possible which she patiently endured. This treatment I had to repeat every night as she seemed to be prone to tick infestations.