Short Story: The cue was "next to nothing."

His sturdy, white, Terrier, Bud, was named after the beer. Not Buddy Holly, not Buddy Rich, not the pizza joint in Detroit where he met his wife. Bud howled with excitement. The two men sipped their coffee and talked about the prognosis and how much time the doctor said he had. He was not concerned about his last days, but worried about finding a home for his dog. The Fireman pursuaded the man to take something. His penknife cost next to nothing and he carried it for thirty years. A small token.