Bessie has lived her entire life in fear.
Well, maybe that’s not entirely correct, but she’s at least lived her life just on the edge of fear. She can go from relaxed and happy to tense and terrified in a split second. She’s not just scared of people who might try to hurt her. She’s even scared of the one person in the world who’s fed her and taken care of her for two and a half years — me.
I wrote about Bessie’s sister, Molly, last week. You can read that story if you’d like, because most of it applied to Bessie, too.

It’s OK to volunteer for tornado cleanup, but only if you’re not a pro
Few things satisfy like giving thoughtful gifts to those we love
Money is a tool, and it’s useless without motivation and vision
Collective freak-out over tasteless shirt points to double standard
Today’s kids learning they should fear police, not respect them
For good or bad, we default back to what feels most familiar to us
Shame almost got me fired — and shame still haunts me years later
A sincere apology can bring color back when the world looks gray