Today, on your way home, you noticed a small puppy on the street. He was whining pitifully, as if he was lost in the vast world, and his confused eyes were looking for some kind of support. Your heart sank. You crouched down, holding out your hand. At first, the puppy cowered in fear, but then, apparently sensing your kind aura, he hesitantly approached and poked his wet nose into your palm. You carefully picked him up in your arms, feeling his small body trembling. Of course, you couldn’t leave him to his fate and hugged him, warming him.

The puppy was very tiny, with soft fur and huge, tear-filled eyes. You examined him carefully. A small collar with a name was hanging on his neck, but, unfortunately, without an address or any contact information.

Arriving home, you immediately began to convince your husband, Vladimir, of the importance of finding the puppy's owners. Vladimir, who initially perceived your find as a fleeting whim, only sighed, looking skeptically at the squeaking puppy. He was always distinguished by his practicality and rational approach to everything, unlike your impulsive kindness.

You sat the puppy on the carpet, brought water and food. While the puppy greedily ate, you began to take pictures of him to post ads on the Internet. Vladimir frowned at first, watching you, but when you threw another pleading look at him, something changed in him.

Suddenly he stood up, took out his phone, walked over to the window, turning away. You could hear scraps of phrases: "Yes, a small puppy. There is a collar, but no address. Try to involve your friends, maybe someone will find out. I will be grateful."