Just Another Brick in the Wall

Every morning I walk up 34th St. past Macy's and Foot Locker and Sbarro's, Dunkin' Dounts, Payless. And most of these mornings I pass the same homeless guy, sitting on a random stone step in some random doorway. Most days he has a sign; on those days when he doesn't, his dog Abigal joins him, sitting on a ratty blanket, looking so sad. Again, he's homeless, and the dog is only with him somedays. I used to think this dog was a stray, but then one morning I suddenly felt so guilty from racing past all the other mornings, that I stopped and gave the guy my breakfast. We ended up chatting, and I found out he's married with five kids; that the dog comes with him on the days it doesn't stay with his wife. That he has cancer and a broken arm, but won't take the medication because Social Security is giving him too much of a hassle. I did feel sorry for him, especially when he would suddenly yelp in pain and grab his arm or side. But, what is he was faking? Just the other day, I saw him talking to a man, and none of this was happening. Was it just a sob story? I mean, there are free clinics in the city where he could go for medical attention. Now, I feel awkward stopping again. Perhaps I'll just drop in a few dollars, and continue on my way. I can't solve all the problems in the world.