How did Gopal know the dog belonged to someone?

The dog turned up at the tea stall on a Tuesday, a brown dog with one white ear and a red collar that said Bruno. It was plainly somebody's dog. It sat politely, refused biscuits from strangers, and looked up the road every time a scooter went past.

Gopal, who ran the stall, tied a string to the collar and asked everyone who stopped for tea whether they knew a Bruno. Nobody did. On Wednesday he wrote BRUNO FOUND on a piece of cardboard in large letters and hung it on the stall. On Thursday he asked his nephew to put a photo of the dog on his phone and send it round.

On Friday evening a scooter stopped so suddenly that the rider nearly fell off. A girl of about twelve jumped from the back seat, and the dog made a noise Gopal had never heard a dog make, half bark and half cry.

The girl's father tried to give Gopal five hundred rupees. Gopal would not take it. "He drank my milk for four days," he said. "That was only fair. He was good company."

"Then at least let us buy tea," said the father.

That, Gopal agreed, was a different thing altogether. They had eight cups between them, and the father paid for every one, and Bruno had his milk from a saucer at their feet.