Sonny has never had a real home. For all of his relatively short life, he’s lived on the street where I live. For most of his life, another neighbor fed him so he wouldn’t starve. She also had him neutered and got him shots. But she and her husband moved a month or so ago, so I’ve taken over feeding him. He doesn’t need just another meal. He needs a real home.
My former neighbor and her husband have seven cats of their own, so they couldn’t take yet another. Sonny and another one they called Tommy were among the strays they regularly fed. When they moved, they couldn’t take them because the neighborhood where they bought their new house has a strict covenant against outdoor animals who roam free. The best she could do was continue to buy food for them — and leave it with me.

Cop’s murder has me pondering why humans kill those they love
Tribal instincts cause us to see others as evil, when they’re just different
The pounding rain from the storm brought me warmth, light and love
Cult’s targeting of family funeral points to folly of speaking for God
Do political labels make things clear or just confuse everyone?
Correcting an old error: there’s no such thing as ‘We the People’
Loving a depressed person means holding tightly on trips through hell
Those Libyan ‘freedom fighters’ we paid for? They’re murdering thugs
Governments can recognize rights, but no government creates rights