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My aunt took in a vagabond Border terrier many years ago. He'd been living rough for a long time and needed a few teeth taking out, as well as a good bath and a lot of loving care.

He was a lovely little thing, very calm, quiet and affectionate. But when he got very old and doddery, he sneaked off again, while out on a walk. They never saw him again and reckoned he had just gone off to die in the wild, like the hobo he still was at heart.

Demantoid

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