In a nameless village (but with a very comfortable yellow bench), there lived a dog who collected things.
Not bones. Not balls.
Things.
A fallen clothespin.
A single lost glove.
A feather forgotten on a windowsill.
His name was Otto. He had short legs, long ears, and an unfailing nose. Every morning, he went out with his little red cart tied to his tail (with an elastic from a pair of underwear, kindly offered by Grandma Pina).
The people of the village would look at him and shake their heads.
– What a strange dog, he picks up junk.
– It’s useless.
– He serves no purpose.
But Otto didn’t answer. He couldn’t speak. And even if he could, he probably wouldn’t have said anything. He was too busy looking for wonders.
One morning, after a week of rain, he found a blue marble stuck between two bricks. He placed it in his cart and brought it home.
That same evening, little Elia – who had lost his favorite marble and had been crying for two days – found it in front of his door. No note. But with a cookie beside it.
The next day, it was Mrs. Adriana’s turn, who found her old bee-shaped brooch on her doormat, next to a feather.
Then came the baker, the postman, a white cat, and even the mayor.
In just a few days, the whole village began to change. Everyone started leaving little things for Otto: a colorful bottle cap, a small box, a piece of string with a funny knot.
And Otto would hand them out. With no rules, no logic. Only with his nose and his heart. He didn’t speak. But he knew who needed what.
Or maybe not. Maybe it was just nice to receive something useless and kind, without a reason.
The mayor wanted to reward him with a medal. Otto took it, sniffed it, then placed it in his cart.
The next day, they found it on the desk of the elementary school, next to a note written with a paw (perhaps helped by a literate pigeon).
It simply said:
“Not everything is useful. But everything can be useful to bring a smile.”