December 14, 1999. On this cold, rainy, December night, I was walking Cody. I had been out that night, so it was a little later than usual. Right in front of my building, I saw him: a dog, alone, walking slowly down the sidewalk, his head down. I watched him for a while, to make sure he wasn't with anyone. Then I ran back to the building and called Allan on the intercom. "Get your shoes on! There's a dog down here!" Allan, surprised, hesitated. "Get your shoes on! Get down here!" Back on the sidewalk, I didn’t see the dog. For a moment I thought I lost him, but then he appeared, coming out of an alley onto the sidewalk, maybe 20 feet ahead of me. I knelt down and opened my arms wide, breathed deeply to calm myself. I waited with my arms open – and he came right to me. By the time Allan got downstairs, the dog was in my arms. When we got him upstairs, we saw he was ravaged. He had almost no fur, and his exposed skin was gray (a healthy dog's skin is pin...