The first time I ever saw Alex, he was lying next to a food bowl outside of the Winn-Dixie grocery store near my house.
He looked up at me with big sad eyes as I walked into the store one night. I didn’t know who he belonged to or what he was doing at the store, so I asked while I was checking out.
“He’s been here all day,” the cashier said. “Some woman put him out of the car this morning with that bowl and a ball. She took off and he’s been here ever since.”
On the way out the door, I stopped to visit him. He didn’t have a real tail, but he wagged a little stump of a tail at getting some attention. Another store employee told me that people had been petting the dog all day, but nobody was interested in taking him home.
As I was petting the dog and trying to figure out whether I could help him, a couple of other customers stopped to talk. They were both big animal lovers, they said, and they both expressed a willingness to help. Each said she knew someone who wanted a dog, but neither had a place to keep him that night.
These aren’t revolutionaries; they’re nothing but thugs and looters
I want the culture to value smart women more than ‘hot’ women
Becoming conscious of life choices means start of whole new struggle
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I’d forgotten what I said about her necklace, but she hadn’t forgotten
Rand Paul filibuster brings GOP rats out into the light for us all to see

Getting better at all I do is only way to fight ‘imposter syndrome’
When does healthy love become nothing but unhealthy obsession?