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.

If foreigner had killed 16 Americans, we wouldn’t be looking for excuses
Search for ‘more’ can leave us craving what we haven’t found
Healthy partner will always ask, ‘Who do you really want to be?’
How long will I keep finding toxic programming from my childhood?
Freedom of the press is for everyone, not just those recognized by feds
Capitol rioters weren’t SS troops, just woeful losers living a fantasy
I’m writing a book — and I’ll be talking about it as it progresses
As nightmares plague my friends, I’m grateful mine have subsided